ne of the requisites that he had packed
in his travelling-kit. It was the volume dealing with short-winged hawks
and buzzards."

Clovis believed that if a lie was worth telling it was worth telling
well.

"This is appalling," said Mrs. Olston; "my husband would never forgive me
if anything happened to those birds. They've been seen about the woods
for the last year or two, but this is the first time they've nested. As
you say, they are almost the only pair known to be breeding in the whole
of Great Britain; and now their nest is going to be harried by a guest
staying under my roof. I must do something to stop it. Do you think if
I appealed to him--"

Clovis laughed.

"There is a story going about, which I fancy is true in most of its
details, of something that happened not long ago somewhere on the coast
of the Sea of Marmora, in which our friend had a hand. A Syrian
nightjar, or some such bird, was known to be breeding in the olive
gardens of a rich Armenian, who for some reason or other wouldn't allow
Lanner to go in and take the eggs, though he offered cash down for the
permission. The Armenian was found beaten nearly to death a day or two
later, and his fences levelled. It was assumed to be a case of Mussulman
aggression, and noted as such in all the Consular reports, but the eggs
are in the Lanner collection. No, I don't think I should appeal to his
better feelings if I were you."

"I must do something," said Mrs. Olston tearfully; "my husband's parting
words when he went off to Norway were an injunction to see that those
birds were not disturbed, and he's asked about them every time he's
written. Do suggest something."

"I was going to suggest picketing," said Clovis.

"Picketing! You mean setting guards round the birds?"

"No; round Lanner. He can't find his way through those woods by night,
and you could arrange that you or Evelyn or Jack or the German governess
should be by his side in relays all day long. A fellow guest he could
get rid of, but he couldn't very well shake off members of the household,
and even the most determined collector would hardly go climbing after
forbidden buzzards' eggs with a German governess hanging round his neck,
so to speak."

Lanner, who had been lazily watching for an opportunity for prosecuting
his courtship of the Coulterneb girl, found presently that his chances of
getting her to himself for ten minutes even were non-existent. If the
girl was ever al