“Any more nails, Mr Fanshawe?” “Yes, give me the whole box—that’s right—and one to the Archbishop.” “_Prenez garde_,” said Miss Lestrange. “One to the Archbishop asking how his aunt was; she’s had influenza. Then I went out to shoot rabbits with Patsy.” “Did you get any?” asked Lord Gawdor. “No. I saw two ducks—that is to say, a duck and a drake; they were running away together—flying away, I mean—they were being pursued by their uncle.” “Ducks haven’t uncles,” said Lord Gawdor. “He was a hawk,” said Mr Fanshawe. “With Patsy’s help I shot the hawk, and the ducks flew away, and were happy ever after.” “How interesting!” said Miss Lestrange. “Funny thing, the same thing happened one morning before Christmas. It was a Friday morning—what’s to-day—Tuesday—well, it was a Friday morning. It might have been next Friday morning, as the old women say, I saw two ducks flying away pursued by a hawk.” “Did they escape?” asked Doris. “They did.” “How did you see them, Mr Fanshawe?” asked Lord Gawdor. “With my eyes,” replied Mr Fanshawe. “But it’s black dark at four.” “There was a moon.” “There’s the dressing gong,” said Violet, rising, and putting Selina down on the hearthrug, as the roar of the gong came from below. “And I’ve finished the decorations,” said Mr Fanshawe, coming down the ladder. “Mr Fanshawe,” said Doris, “you’ve used nearly the whole box of nails, nailing up that piece of mistletoe.” “We can’t play the nursery game any longer,” said Mr Fanshawe, as they came down the passage together, “or people will suspect; not that I expected to meet you there just now. I just went to help the kids with the holly; Bob came and asked me. But I don’t know how we’re to see each other again to-night, unless in the drawing-room, and that’s worse than nothing. I’ve got to bottle this beastly burglar at ten—at least fix up the contraption to catch him in. He’s coming at twelve.” “Oh, Dicky, I’d forgot——” “What?” “That burglar—how wicked of me! I’ve been so happy and so frightened that I’ve been able to think of nothing. Will it be dangerous?” “Not a bit. I’ve got the stable-man and Patsy to help.” “I shan’t sleep till it’s all over.” “I’ll give two knocks at your door when it’s all fixed. You understand what I meant about the ducks—everything is arranged for Friday morning. Isn’t it frightful that we can only speak to one another by strategy like this? No matter, it won’t be long now——” “There’s a meet of the hounds to-morrow morning,” said Violet. “We may be able to talk then without being observed.” “Yes; O’Farrell’s hounds are going to meet on the lawn here at ten.” “Hi you, sir—why don’t you bring me my hot water?” came General Grampound’s voice from below. “That’s the hawk,” whispered Dicky. Violet shivered. “Suppose——” she said. “Yes?” “Suppose you hadn’t shot that—other hawk!” she murmured. “It would have been all up with the ducks,” he said, “or one of them.” --------------