“I 'll decide nothing,” said Lionel, “till I get something to eat. Any one that wishes to hear my exploits must come into the dinner-room;” and, so saying, he arose, and walked into the parlor, where, under Tate's superintendence, a little table was already spread for him beside the fire. To the tempting fare before him the young man devoted all the energy of a hunter's appetite, regardless of the crowd who had followed him from the drawing-room, and stood in a circle around him. Many were the jests, and sharp the raillery, on his singular appearance, and certainly it presented a most ludicrous contrast with the massive decorations of the table at which he sat, and the full dress of the party around him. “I remember,” said Lord Netherby, “seeing the King of France--when such a functionary existed--eat his dinner in public on the terrace of Versailles; but I confess, great as was my admiration of the monarch's powers, I think Lionel exceeds them.” “Another leg?” said Beauclerk, who, with knife and fork in hand, performed the duty of carver. “Why don't you say another turkey?” said Nolan; then, turning to Mrs. Somerville, he added, “I am sure that negus is perfect.” The pretty widow, who had been contributing, as she thought unobserved, to Lionel's comfort, blushed deeply; and Lionel, at last roused from his apathy, said, “I am ready now, ladies and gentlemen all, to satisfy every reasonable demand upon your curiosity. But first, where is Mr. Beecham O'Reilly?” “He went home,” said the Knight; “he resisted all my efforts to detain him to dinner.” “Perhaps he only came over to sell that horse,” said Nolan, in a half whisper. “I wish I had bought him, with all my heart,” said Lionel. “Do you like him so much,” said the Knight, with a meaning smile. “I sincerely hope you do,” said Lord Netherby, “for he is yours already,--at least, if you will do me the honor to accept him; I often hoped to have mounted you one day--” “I accept him, my Lord,” interposed Lionel, “most willingly and most gratefully. You have, literally speaking, mounted me 'one day,' and I very much doubt if I ever mount the same animal another.” “What! is he lame?--or staked?--did he break down?--is he a devil to ride?” broke from several of the party. “Not one of all these; but if you'll bestow five minutes' patience on me I 'll perhaps inform you of a mode of being unhorsed, novel at least to most fox-hunters.” With this, Lionel narrated the conclusion of the run, the leap of the Crumpawn river, and the singular departure of his companion at the end. “Is this a practical joke, Knight?” said Lord Netherby. “I think so, my Lord; one of those admirable jests which the statutes record among their own Joe Millers.” “Then you suspect he was a robber?” “I confess it looks very like it.”