“His descendants? I believe they are many. Their female parent was, they say, even more partial to aqua vita than their male; indeed, report sayeth that she died thereof. One, by the way, obtained large damages from Vance’s eldest fool in an action for breach of promise. I believe the family has been living on it ever since.”
“Which of them was that?” said Wagram carelessly, wondering if it was the heroine of the afternoon’s adventure.
“I don’t remember. Which of them was it, Rundle?”
“I believe it was the second of the young ladies, sir,” supplied the butler, who, being an old and privileged and, withal, discreet family servant, was often consulted by the Squire as to local and personal matters when memory proved defective. The answer, no name having been mentioned, of course conveyed no information to Wagram. So the heroine of the adventure was the daughter of a tippling and disreputable ex-Army vet. Well, she was not lacking in pluck and readiness of resource, at any rate.
“I made the acquaintance of one of the girls this afternoon, father, and that in rather a queer way,” he said.
“Ah, really; and how was that?”
Then Wagram told the story, told it graphically, too. The Squire, listening, was taken quite out of himself.
“Why didn’t you shoot the brute, Wagram? You had the rifle.”
“Oh, I didn’t want to do that as long as it could possibly be avoided. It couldn’t in the long run. But the girl shot him instead. Had to.”
“The girl shot him?”