l."

"Have you any more?" Adele asked.

"No more falcons like this. I have gerfalcons, for pigeons and
partridges, but none for herons. But I dare say Hugh will be able
to get me two more young birds before long, and it is a pleasure to
train them."

Colonel Holliday and Monsieur Dessin met them as they returned to
the house.

"What, Rupert! Had bad luck?" his grandfather said.

"Yes, sir. Cavalier was too rash, and the quarry killed him."

"Hum!" said the old man; "just the old story. The falcon was well
named, Rupert. It was just our rashness that lost us all our
battles.

"What, Monsieur Dessin, you must be off? Will you let me have a
horse saddled for yourself; and the pony for mademoiselle? The
groom can bring them back."

Monsieur Dessin declined the offer; and a few minutes later started
to walk back with his daughter to Derby.

Chapter 2: Rupert to the Rescue.

About a month after the day on which Rupert had taken Mademoiselle
Adele Dessin out hawking, the colonel and Mistress Dorothy went to
dine at the house of a county family some miles away. The family
coach, which was only used on grand occasions, was had out, and in
this Mistress Dorothy, hooped and powdered in accordance with the
fashion of the day, took her seat with Colonel Holliday. Rupert had
been invited, as the eldest son was a lad of his own age.

It was a memorable occasion for him, as he was for the first time
to dress in the full costume of the period--with powdered hair,
ruffles, a blue satin coat and knee breeches of the same material,
with silk stockings. His greatest pleasure, however, was that he
was now to wear a sword, the emblem of a gentleman, for the first
time. He was to ride on horseback, for madam completely filled the
coach with her hoops and brocaded dress, and there was scarcely
room for Colonel Holliday, who sat beside her almost lost in her
ample skirts.

The weather was cold, and Rupert wore a riding cloak over his
finery, and high boots, which were upon his arrival to be exchanged
for silver-buckled shoes. They started at twelve, for the dinner
hour was two, and there were eight miles to drive--a distance
which, over the roads of those days, could not be accomplished much
under two hours. The coachman and two lackeys took their places on
the box of the lumbering carriage, the two latter being armed with
pistols, as it would be dark before they returned, and travelling
after dark in the days of King Willi