"'At this juncture there ap-peared upon the Lady Gab-ri-ell-e's beautiful face a look of hor-ror that her lover never for-got. "Treachery!" she cried, and pointed to the thicket. Her lover's eyes followed her out-stretched finger,--but too late. A burst of flame leaped from the thicket, two terri-bul shrieks rang out on the night air----'" So intent upon the fate of the Lady Gabrielle was she, that she did not hear, above the noise of the dish washing and the quarrelling children, a genuine shriek that did ring out upon the night air. It was not until little Mike pulled her gown with an excited exclamation, that she came back to the world of reality. "What's that you say?" she said. Mike repeated his remark: "Launkelot hitted a man wiv his catter pole." Mrs. Canary beamed with pride. "Launkelot always was a accurate shot," she said fondly. At that moment the young marksman appeared at the gate. He was shrieking at the top of his healthy young lungs, and was being hurried along the ground by means of a strong arm which had united itself with his ear. At the other end of the arm was a tall, fierce old man, carrying a muddy top-hat in one hand, and hurrying his victim along with the other. The rest of the hastily summoned Canary flock brought up the rear of the procession. Mrs. Canary laid the two babies behind the door where they could not be stepped upon in the melee, and faced the enemy boldly. "What's the matter here?" she inquired fiercely. "Let go that boy. What's he done, I want to know?" "I will haf' the law on him already!" said the old man. His face was fairly purple with rage and his voice shook so that the words were hardly intelligible. "Leave go of him!" commanded Mrs. Canary, with spirit. Then her voice changed as she recognised the man before her. "Oh," she said, in a milder tone, "it's you, is it? Launkelot didn't go to hurt ye, I'm sure. Leave go the boy, an' let him tell about it." The old man seemed not to hear her mollifying words. "He hung on to my buggy," he said, in angry tones, "unt when I tell him to 'get off,' he answer me back. I lick him behind mit my whip, unt he shoot me in the headt mit his snap gun----" "That wasn't the way it happened," said a clear voice above them. The excited little group glanced up quickly. A young girl stood looking over the fence,--a girl in a white gown, with soft hair that shone like copper in the lamplight.