in the house of my
ancestors and be an ornament to the county, and all the rest of it. But
I tell you it's a damned quiet life for a man who's had his eye put out
with a broken whisky bottle and hanged the man who did it with his own
hands!"

"Hanged him!" exclaimed the lawyer sharply.

"Oh, it wasn't merely for the eye. That gave the performance a kind of
relish it would otherwise have lacked, being a cold-blooded ceremony and
a little awkward with the apparatus we had. We hanged him for murder, as
a matter of fact. Now, between ourselves, Mr. Rattar, we don't want to
crab our own county, but you must confess that real good serious crime
is devilish scarce here, eh?"

Cromarty's eye was gleaming humorously, and Simon Rattar might have been
thought the kind of tough customer who would have been amused by the
joke. He seemed, however, to be affected unpleasantly and even a little
startled.

"I--I trust we don't," he said.

"Well," his visitor agreed, "as it means that something or somebody has
got to be sacrificed to start the sport of man-hunting, I suppose
there's something to be said for the quiet life. But personally I'd
sooner be after men than grouse, from the point of view of getting
thorough satisfaction while it lasts. My sister says it means I haven't
settled down properly yet--calls me the bold bad bachelor!"

Through this speech Simon seemed to be looking at his visitor with an
attention that bordered on fascination, and it was apparently with a
slight effort that he asked at the end:

"Well, why don't you marry?"

"Marry!" exclaimed Ned Cromarty. "And where will you find the lady
that's to succumb to my fascinations? I'm within a month of forty, Mr.
Rattar, I've the mind, habits, and appearance of a backwoodsman, and
I've one working eye left. A female collector of antique curiosities, or
something in the nature of a retired wardress might take on the job, but
I can't think of any one else!"

He laughed as he spoke, and yet something remarkably like a sigh
followed the laugh, and for a moment after he had ceased speaking his
eye looked abstractedly into space.

Before either spoke again, the door opened and the clerk, seeing Mr.
Rattar was still engaged, murmured a "beg pardon" and was about to
retire again.

"What is it?" asked the lawyer.

"Miss Farmond is waiting to see you, sir."

"I'll let you know when I'm free," said Simon.

Had his eye been on his visitor as his clerk spoke, he mi