“No, my child. I am not a pork-butcher,” said Mr. Carrington amiably.
“He looked as if he was dead,” said Erebus; and there was a faint ring of disappointment in her tone.
“In a short time the young man will come to himself; and let us hope that it will be a better and wiser self,” said Mr. Carrington. “But what was it all about? What did that truculent young ruffian want with Rupert?”
Erebus paused, looking earnestly round to the horizon for inspiration; then she dashed at the awkward subject with commendable glibness: “It was a pheasant in Great Deeping wood,” she said. “The Terror found it, I suppose. I had gone on, and I didn’t see that part. But it was Wiggins the keeper caught. Of course—”
“I beg your pardon; but I should like that point a little clearer,” broke in Mr. Carrington. “Had you ridden on too, Rupert? Or did you see what happened?”
“Oh, yes; I was there,” said Wiggins readily. “And the Terror found the pheasant in the wood and put it in his bicycle basket. And we had just got on our bicycles when the keeper came out of the wood, and I ran into him; and he collared me and took me up to the Court. I wasn’t really frightened—at least, not much.”
“The keeper had no right to touch him,” Erebus broke in glibly. “Wiggins never touched the pheasant; he didn’t even go into the wood; and when I went into the hall, the hall of the Court, I found him and the keeper sitting there, and I let Wiggins out, of course, and then that horrid Mr. D’Arcy Rosenheimer who shoots nightingales, caught hold of me by the arm ever so roughly, and I slapped him just once. I should think that the mark is still there “—her speed of speech slackened to a slower vengeful gratification and then quickened again—“and he began to thump me and the footman interfered, and I came away, and they came after us in the car, and you saw what happened—at least you did it.”
She stopped somewhat breathless.
“Lucidity itself,” said Mr. Carrington. “But let us have the matter of the pheasant clear. Was the Terror exploring the wood on the chance of finding a pheasant, or had he reason to expect that a pheasant would be there ready to be brought home?”
Erebus blushed faintly, looked round the horizon somewhat aimlessly, and said, “Well, there was a snare, you know.”