"Oh, certainly, Imp, if it will make you any happier; though of a truth, bold Robin," I continued after the manner of the story books, "Little-John hath a mind to bide awhile and commune with himself here; yet give but one blast upon thy bugle horn and thou shalt find my arm and quarter-staff ready and willing enough, I'll warrant you!" "That sounds awfull' fine, Uncle Dick, only--you haven't got a quarter-staff, you know." "Yea, 'tis here!" I answered, and detached the lower joint of my fishing rod. The Imp rose, and folding his arms, surveyed me as Robin Hood himself might have done--that is to say, with an 'eye of fire.' "So be it, my faithful Little-John," quoth he; "meet me at the Blasted Oak at midnight. An' if I shout for help--I mean blow my bugle--you'll come an' rescue me, won't you, Uncle Dick?" "Ay; trust me for that," I answered, all unsuspecting. "'Tis well!" nodded the Imp; and with a wave of his hand he turned and scrambling up the bank disappeared. Of the existence of Mr. Selwyn I was already aware, having been notified in this particular by the Duchess, as I have told in the foregoing narrative. Now, a rival in air--in the abstract, so to speak--is one thing, but a rival who was on a sufficiently intimate footing to deal in personal compliments, and above all, one who was already approved of and encouraged by the powers that be, in the person of Lady Warburton--Lisbeth's formidable aunt--was another consideration altogether. "Miss Elizabeth, you're prettier than ever!" Somehow the expression rankled. What right had he to tell her such things?--and in a summer-house, too;--the insufferable audacity of the fellow! A pipe being indispensable to the occasion, I took out my matchbox, only to find that it contained but a solitary vesta. The afternoon had been hot and still hitherto, with never so much as a breath of wind stirring; but no sooner did I prepare to strike that match than from somewhere--Heaven knows where--there came a sudden flaw of wind that ruffled the glassy waters of the river and set every leaf whispering. Waiting until what I took to be a favourable opportunity, with infinite precaution I struck a light. It flickered in a sickly fashion for a moment between my sheltering palms, and immediately expired. This is but one example of that "Spirit of the Perverse" pervading all things mundane, which we poor mortals are called upon to bear as best we may. Therefore I tossed aside the charred match, and having searched fruitlessly through my pockets for another, waited philosophically for some "good Samaritan" to come along. The bank I have mentioned sloped away gently on my left, thus affording an uninterrupted view of the path.