“I shall shoot him, then,” cried Adrian.
“Not improbably there will be nothing else to shoot by that time,” quietly said Gerald.
“I shall have a keeper in every lodge, and bring up four or five hundred pheasants every year,” boasted the little baronet, quite alive to the pride of possession, though he had never seen Ironbeam in his life.
Edward laughed a “Don’t you wish you may get it,” and the others, who knew very well the futility of the poor boy’s expectations, even if Gerald’s augury were not fulfilled, hastened to turn away the conversation to plans for the afternoon. Anna asked the visitor if he would ride out with her and Gerald to Clipstone or to the moor, and was relieved when he declined, saying he had promised to meet Horner.
“You will come in to tea at five?” said his aunt, “and bring him if you like.”
“Thanks awfully, but we hardly can. We have to start from the quay at six sharp.”
All had gone their several ways, and Clement, after the heat of the day, was pacing towards a secluded cove out of an inner bay which lay nearer than Anscombe Cove, but was not much frequented. However, he smelt tobacco, and heard sounds of boyish glee, and presently saw Adrian and Fergus Merrifield, bare-legged, digging in the mud.
“Ha! youngsters! Do you know the tide has turned? I thought you had had enough of that.”
“I thought I might find my aralia!” sighed Fergus. “The tide was almost as low.”
Just then there resounded from behind a projecting rock a peal of undesirable singing, a shout of laughter, and an oath, with—