She looked up through the overhanging trees to the blue expanse of the sky beyond.
Lord Ambert had chosen this place for his tea with most consummate care and a very artistic eye. Elfrida told him so on her arrival—which was late; she was, in fact, the very last to appear upon the scene.
She was very delightful to everybody during tea, however, and quite subjugated two young men from the barracks in the next town. If she was cold to Ambert, it was in such a careful manner that no one understood it but himself.
After tea the party broke up. Here and there by twos and threes they disappeared into the wood. When Ambert looked round for Elfrida, he found she, too, had gone away somewhere with one of the young soldiers. Certainly she had not waited for him—for him, the man she had promised to marry!
With a heart soured and enraged he turned away, and, plunging through a brake, came out into a level bit of ground beyond. He stood there, thinking a moment. The knowledge that there was no one near him, that he was quite alone, forsaken, in a certain sense, and that she was enjoying herself elsewhere, heightened the sense of vicious anger within his heart.
There was a little rustling among the brambles on his left. Hah! He looked towards the sound, slunk behind a tree, and waited. Fellows after rabbits, of course. He waited quite three minutes, and then a little boy came out, looked eagerly around him, and then whistled softly.
He was quite a little lad, and delicate-looking; he was whistling to a companion, whom he supposed to be some yards away, to come and help him to gather the nuts from some wonderful tree he had seen just now. The companion, however, had probably seen Ambert, who was a terror in the neighbourhood, and had taken to his heels.
But to Ambert just now the boy's guilt seemed sure. And certainly of late the Ambert woods had been poached persistently for rabbits. Well, he could teach the decoy something.
He sprang forward and caught the child by the arm and dragged him into the open. The boy struggled a moment, and then grew very white. Ambert was well known among his tenantry. The smaller members were always sure of one thing from him—a kick, a curse, or a cuff.
He grasped the collar of the boy's coat, and lifted the cane he held. Down it came, and down and down again—a heavy shower of blows on the little fellow's thin shoulders. The boy cried and moaned and wriggled, and every cry and moan gave Ambert joy. It was delightful to him in his present mood to be able to torture somebody; for choice he would have made it Elfrida, but as that could not be, the boy was most convenient.