Then the church, with the square Norman tower, around which the rooks are always wheeling and cawing, casting its mighty shadow over the green grass, beneath which the quiet dead sleep soundly, as they have done for so many hundred years. Opposite the church stands the "Dog and Badger," a very old hostel, with mellow-tinted roofs and numerous gables, and within, low-ceilinged rooms with great beams overhead, and queer, twisted staircases and unexpected cupboards all over the house. At the back, high up on the hill, and commanding a magnificent view of the Thames Valley, stands the stern-looking old farm-house, said to have been mentioned in the Domesday Book, and where Charles II. and pretty, witty Nell Gwynne are reported to have stayed for a night. Then, farther on, the quiet little village of Hambledon, through which it is said Charles I. rode with a brilliant train of gallant cavaliers, on his way to meet his rebellious subjects. The whole neighbourhood is full of antiquities and traditions, which lend a peculiar charm to the place. When they grew weary of sight-seeing, the whole party went down again to the river, and getting into the boats, rowed up the stream for a considerable distance, and ultimately decided to hold their picnic just below Hambledon Lock, with the pleasant murmur of the Weir in their ears. Such a scene of confusion, getting out the luncheon--everyone seated round in attitudes graceful and otherwise, with the clatter of dishes, the popping of champagne corks, and a perfect Babel of voices. "This is jolly," said Pat, with his mouth full. "I'm fond of Arcadian simplicity." "Especially when it's accompanied by champagne," cried Bubbles, raising his glass to his lips. "Begad, you're not slow in finding out what I mean," said Ryan, laughing, and filling his glass. "Imitation's the sincerest flattery," observed Miss Lester, gaily, trying to cut up a rather wiry chicken. "I believe this fowl was a pedestrian, his legs are so tough." "Try some of the breast," said Sir Mark; "at all events, it hasn't got eight legs, like the birds you get on board ship." "That's true enough," cried Pat; "everyone seems to get legs of fowls on board--perhaps they're like Manx men,--got three legs." "Or a hundred, like a centipede," said Bubbles. "Oh, this conversation is frivolous," said Pat, raising his glass, "so I'll propose a toast: to the health of Miss Trevor, and many happy returns of the day." This was, of course, drank by everyone with acclamation, and then the male portion of the company sang, "She's a jolly good fellow," rather incongruously, it must be confessed. "I wish Monteith were here," said Pat, when this was done. Carmela said nothing, but looked much, for in her secret heart, that is just what she had been wishing. At this moment they heard a wild whoop from the river, and saw a boat coming quickly up the stream, rowed by a single man.