nt to introduce you to old Amersteth," he whispered, when I joined
him. "They've a cricket week next month, when this boy Crowley comes
of age, and we've both got to go down and play."

"Both!" I echoed. "But I'm no cricketer!"

"Shut up," says Raffles. "Leave that to me. I've been lying for all
I'm worth," he added sepulchrally as we reached the bottom of the
steps. "I trust to you not to give the show away."

There was a gleam in his eye that I knew well enough elsewhere, but was
unprepared for in those healthy, sane surroundings; and it was with
very definite misgivings and surmises that I followed the Zingari
blazer through the vast flower-bed of hats and bonnets that bloomed
beneath the ladies' awning.

Lord Amersteth was a fine-looking man with a short mustache and a
double chin. He received me with much dry courtesy, through which,
however, it was not difficult to read a less flattering tale. I was
accepted as the inevitable appendage of the invaluable Raffles, with
whom I felt deeply incensed as I made my bow.

"I have been bold enough," said Lord Amersteth, "to ask one of the
Gentlemen of England to come down and play some rustic cricket for us
next month. He is kind enough to say that he would have liked nothing
better, but for this little fishing expedition of yours, Mr.-----,
Mr.-----," and Lord Amersteth succeeded in remembering my name.

It was, of course, the first I had ever heard of that fishing
expedition, but I made haste to say that it could easily, and should
certainly, be put off. Raffles gleamed approval through his eyelashes.
Lord Amersteth bowed and shrugged.

"You're very good, I'm sure," said he. "But I understand you're a
cricketer yourself?"

"He was one at school," said Raffles, with infamous readiness.

"Not a real cricketer," I was stammering meanwhile.

"In the eleven?" said Lord Amersteth.

"I'm afraid not," said I.

"But only just out of it," declared Raffles, to my horror.

"Well, well, we can't all play for the Gentlemen," said Lord Amersteth
slyly. "My son Crowley only just scraped into the eleven at Harrow,
and HE'S going to play. I may even come in myself at a pinch; so you
won't be the only duffer, if you are one, and I shall be very glad if
you will come down and help us too. You shall flog a stream before
breakfast and after dinner, if you like."

"I should be very proud," I was beginning, as the mere prelude to
resolute excuses; but the eye of Raffl