the old man, a veteran of Wells,
whose memory went back to at least sixty fifths of Novembers, felt his
sleeve sharply pulled by the master of the shop.

"Have a care--have a care what you say, Mr. Harte. Don't be so free; you
are talking to a real lord, who is visiting at the palace."

The poor old man was fairly silenced by the news; he retired to a remote
corner, trembling and abashed, and the glory of the bull-baiting was
over for him.

"A real lord!" he murmured, "and I've been talking to him as if he were
just nobody. Dear, _dear_--_dear me_!"

The sport began in good earnest about one o'clock. The backers pricked
up the dogs to the onslaught, and cries and shouts resounded.

The bull, at first strangely stoical and unmoved, with its large brown
eyes staring calmly at the yelping, bounding dogs, was at length lashed
to fury. With a loud and angry bellow he tossed his assailants hither
and thither, and again and again the mangled bodies of the dogs were
hurled by the horns of the bull outside the barriers amongst the
shrieking crowd.

At last, after a pause, while the bull stood, covered with blood and
foam, watching for the attack of the next adversary, a brindled terrier,
after receiving some cruel thrusts from the tortured animal, sprang with
unerring aim at its throat, and clung there with such a desperate grip,
that its giant strength, exhausted by the long conflict, gave way. The
bull rolled over on his side with a roar of agony, and the victorious
dog, with his eyes starting out of his head, and his tongue lolling out
of his mouth, was borne off by his backer, amidst the cheers and
acclamations of the excited crowd.

"Ah!" Lord Maythorne said, "I had a heavy bet on that dog, so I am in
luck's way for once. Now, Gratian, as the play is played out, for the
bull will show no more fight to-day, if ever again, shall we make our
way back to the palace?"

Even Gratian felt a little sickened and disgusted. She clung to Lord
Maythorne's arm, and was thankful when she found herself once more
within the palace grounds.

The noise and uproar in the market-place after the bull-baiting had
scarcely ceased when the space was cleared for the bonfire, and
preparations began for the great _finale_ of the day.

As soon as it was dark, squibs and crackers were flying in every
direction, while those who ventured forth were in some danger of having
their clothes set on fire by the scattered sparks. A party from the