us; but none the less resolved to remember and act upon
Honnor Cunyngham's advice. The tail of the procession was brought up by
a gillie leading, or rather holding in, two brace of remarkably handsome
Gordon setters, and another gillie in charge of a patient-eyed pony with
a couple of panniers slung over its back.

However, the busy work of the day soon banished these idle regrets. When
they had climbed a bit of the hillside, and passed through a gate in a
rude stone wall, they stopped for a second to put cartridges in their
guns; the keeper had two of the dogs uncoupled; while the gillie,
putting a strap on the coupling of the other two, led them away to a
convenient knoll, where he lay down, the gillie with the pony following
his example. And scarcely had the two dogs begun to work this open bit
of moorland when one of them suddenly ceased its wide ranging--suddenly
as if it had been turned to stone; and then slowly, slowly it began to
draw forward, its companion, a younger dog, backing beautifully and
looking on with startled, watchful eyes. It was an anxious moment for
the famous young baritone of the New Theatre; for the dog was right in
front of him; and as the three guns, in line, stealthily moved forward,
he made sure that this bird was going to get up just before him. Despite
all his resolve to be perfectly cool and calm, his heart was beating
quickly; and again and again he was repeating to himself Honnor
Cunyngham's counsel, and wondering whether he would disgrace himself at
the very outset, when some bewildering brown thing sprang from the
ground, there was a terrific whir, a crack from Captain Waveney's
gun--and away along there the grouse came tumbling down into the
heather. Almost at the same moment there was another appalling whir on
his right--followed by a bang from Sir Hugh's gun--and another bird fell
headlong. After the briefest pause for reloading, the setter, that had
obediently dropped at the first shot, was encouraged to go forward, the
guns warily following. But it turned out that this had been an outlying
brace of birds; the dogs were soon ranging freely again; Roderick picked
up the slain grouse, and the whole party went on.

"Sorry you didn't get the first shot, Mr. Moore," said Sir Hugh, who was
a short, thick-set man, with a fresh-colored face, iron-gray hair, and
keen, light-blue eyes.

"I wish the birds would all rise to you two," Lionel said. "Then I
shouldn't have to pitch into mysel