ay), and contained an
invitation to himself to shoot on the morrow. "George wants me to do a
little partridge driving," it ended, "and to brush through one or two
of the small coverts. There will only be Colonel Quaritch besides
yourself and George, but I hope that you will have a fair rough day.
If I don't hear from you I shall suppose that you are coming, so don't
trouble to write."

"Oh yes, I will go," said Edward. "Confound that Quaritch. At any rate
I can show him how to shoot, and what is more I will have it out with
him about my aunt."

CHAPTER XXI

THE COLONEL GOES OUT SHOOTING

The next morning was fine and still, one of those lovely autumn days
of which we get four or five in the course of a season. After
breakfast Harold Quaritch strolled down his garden, stood himself
against a gate to the right of Dead Man's Mount, and looked at the
scene. All about him, their foliage yellowing to its fall, rose the
giant oaks, which were the pride of the country side, and so quiet was
the air that not a leaf upon them stirred. The only sounds that
reached his ears were the tappings of the nut-hutches as they sought
their food in the rough crannies of the bark, and the occasional
falling of a rich ripe acorn from its lofty place on to the frosted
grass beneath. The sunshine shone bright, but with a chastened heat,
the squirrels scrambled up the oaks, and high in the blue air the
rooks pursued their path. It was a beautiful morning, for summer is
never more sweet than on its death-bed, and yet it filled him with
solemn thoughts. How many autumns had those old trees seen, and how
many would they still see, long after his eyes had lost their sight!
And if they were old, how old was Dead Man's Mount there to his left!
Old, indeed! for he had discovered it was mentioned in Doomday Book
and by that name. And what was it--a boundary hill, a natural
formation, or, as its name implied, a funeral barrow? He had half a
mind to dig one day and find out, that is if he could get anybody to
dig with him, for the people about Honham were so firmly convinced
that Dead Man's Mount was haunted, a reputation which it had owned
from time immemorial, that nothing would have persuaded them to touch
it.

He contemplated the great mound carefully without coming to any
conclusion, and then looked at his watch. It was a quarter to ten,
time for him to start for the Castle for his day's shoo