." And Lord Strathern rode off--with a merry party at his
heels.

CHAPTER IV.

_Celia_.--Here comes Monsieur Le Beau.
_Rosalind_.--With his mouth full of news.
_Celia_.--Which he will put on us as pigeons feed their young.
_Rosalind_.--Then shall we be news-crammed.

_As You Like It._

The next morning Colonel L'Isle was seated in his room, wrapped in his
cloak, with a _brasero_ filled with wood embers at his feet; for it
was one of those windy, chilly days, not uncommon in this fluctuating
climate, and he was still invalid enough to be keenly sensitive to
these sudden changes of temperature. He was, too, so completely
wrapped up in his meditations, that his servant had twice to announce
that the adjutant was in the next room.

"Here, already!" said L'Isle; "I did not expect him until ten
o'clock." He looked at his watch. "But it is ten already. Here have I
been thinking for two hours, and have never once thought of the
regiment. I am acquiring a sad habit of day-dreaming, or, rather, my
mind has not yet recovered its tone. Ask Lieutenant Meynell to walk in
here."

The regimental business was soon dispatched, and the adjutant, who was
a capital newsmonger, began to detail the local news of the
day. L'Isle liked to keep himself informed of what was going on around
him, on the easy terms of listening to the adjutant. But this morning
he seemed to tire soon at the details of small intelligence, much of
which was of a sporting character, such as this: "Warren has succeeded
in buying the famous dog at Estremoz; they say he will collar a wolf
without ceremony, and throttle him single-handed; and he has the knack
of so seizing a wild boar, that he can never bring his tusks to bear
upon him."

"I hope," said L'Isle, "that Warren will show us many trophies of his
prowess, or his dog's rather, in the hunt."

"He had to pay well for him, though. Fifty moidores was the least his
owner would take for him."

"I sincerely trust that Warren will get fifty moidores' worth of sport
out of him."

"He went out yesterday to try him," continued Meynell, "but Hatton,
who was with him, got such a fall (he is a villainous rider, without
knowing it), that they had great trouble in getting him back here, and
it broke up the day's sport."

"Is he much hurt?" asked L'Isle.

"No permanent injury. But he fell on his head, and, at first, they
thought the time come for firing