“Sir,” he answered, “I regret to be obleeged to inform your honour that I opened hostilities this morning without your honour’s orders, feeling myself obligated thereto by reason of a young fe-male——” “I suggest ‘maid,’ Robert.” “Maid, your honour, which young female crying out——” “Damsel, Robert.” “Damsel, your honour ... crying out, sir, I observed said young fe——” “Nymph, Robert.” “Yes, sir. I ob-served same a-struggling with Mr. Sturton. Whereupon, your honour, judging the ser-cumstances called for indi-vidual action, I opened hos-tilities forthwith.” “Did Mr. Sturton receive any—injuries, Robert?” “Only super-facially, sir. His right ogle, your honour; otherwise he retreated in fairly good order, sir.” “Whiles you comforted the distressed damsel, Bob?” “I did my endeavour, sir,” answered the ex-corporal, imperturbable as ever. “Extreme commendable in you, Robert, for hitherto you have not been precisely a ‘squire o’ dames.’” “Heretofore, sir, I have preferred horses.” “And egad,” sighed Sir John wistfully, “’twould almost seem you were the wiser, Bob! For though horses may balk they cannot talk, they may break your neck but they cannot break your heart.... ’S life, Bob, ’tis subject suggestive for a lampoon on the Sex!... ‘The Jade Equine and Feminine,’ or ‘The Horse the Nobler Animal.’ ... It promiseth, Robert, it promiseth!... Hum! Though horses may balk, women will talk; break your necks, falsest sex. Though horses unseat ye they cannot ill-treat ye. What though they be glandered no fame ha’ they slandered. Though horses go lame they never defame. Yes, it promiseth exceeding well!” and out came Sir John’s memorandum. And after he had been thus busied for some minutes, Robert the Imperturbable spoke: “Pray what are your honour’s orders?” “Orders?” repeated Sir John, glancing up a little vacantly. “Though they be spavined ... spavined? ’Twon’t do—’tis a devilish awkward word—eh, Bob?” “Yes, sir ... and your orders?” “Aye, to be sure,” sighed Sir John, “you will pursue every inquiry and research in regard to Mr. James Sturton ... and inquire for me at the ‘Dering Arms’ about six o’clock this evening.” “As Mr. Derwent, your honour?” “As Mr. Derwent. And, by the way, Bob ... concerning the granddaughter of our ancient Mr. Dumbrell—her name is Ann, I think?” “So I am give to understand, sir.” “She is a fine, handsome creature, Robert?” “Yes, your honour.” “With a neat foot and a low, sweet voice.” “Yes, your honour.” “Some sage philosopher hath it, Bob, that ‘a pretty foot is the one element of beauty that defieth Time,’ but I, who pretend to some little discernment in such matters, incline to the belief that a low, soft-sweet voice may endure even longer.” “Indeed, your honour?” “Remembering which ... and Mr. Sturton’s apparently unwelcome attentions, I think ’twere as well you should keep an eye on old Mr. Dumbrell’s granddaughter, Robert.”