'It was a devil of a mistake--and I beg your pardon,' replied Hew, giving his cold damp hand to Cecil, who saw--or thought he saw--a quiet twinkle of mingled malice and amusement in the speaker's bilious eye. 'Blundering fool! Could he have meant it? Looks deuced like it--but why?' thought the young officer more angrily, as he thought over the matter. 'He weel-nigh shot Sir Piers in the same unco fashion, sir,' grumbled the old keeper; while Cecil now changed his ground again, and for actual safety kept closer to Hew than ever. Four long beats through the covers brought luncheon-time, and while flasks and sandwiches were produced, the slain were counted as they were laid in long rows on the side of a grassy bank, each keeper, as he came up in succession, adding his quota to the general stock, all furred and feathered victims from the covers of Eaglescraig, and so numerous, that the sportsmen thought enough had been done for one day. 'I may deem myself lucky that I was not added to _your_ bag to-day, Mr. Montgomerie,' said Cecil, laughing, but not with genuine hilarity. 'What! has Hew been at his old tricks again?' asked Sir Piers, with an air of annoyance. 'E'en sae, sir,' said Sandy, taking a flask from his mouth, 'firing doon the line as before.' 'My gun exploded unexpectedly, sir,' said Hugh, with a sullen look; 'I explained to Mr. Falconer, and he has accepted my apology.' Something in his manner caused this episode to rankle in the memory of Cecil. 'By Jove, I think the cad _had_ intended to pot me, after all!' was his occasional thought, and he never precisely forgot or forgave the suspicion--one too grave in its diabolical spirit of mischief and cruelty to be dismissed lightly; and though he laughed at some jokes made by old Mr. Balderstone on the matter, he really saw nothing to laugh at in it, and was very well pleased when the whole party bent their steps homeward--all the more pleased when he thought of the pleasant society that awaited him. Falconer began to wonder whether he was actually falling in love already with the beautiful grand-niece of his host. He had never believed much in 'that sort of thing,' at first sight especially; but he was young and impressionable; he possessed a keen imagination, and he already caught himself weaving mental conversations with her--conversations in which tender little speeches came involuntarily, though unuttered, to his lips, and soft smiles hovered on hers, when she seemed to hear them; but when--after changing his muddy shooting-costume for another--he joined the ladies in the drawing-room, remembering the almost rude remarks of Hew Montgomerie, Cecil, in approaching Mary, or conversing with her, had an angry sense of being watched, or observed, by that personage; though a time came when he ceased to think or care on the subject.