“Shall I leave them there?”
“Certainly! Do you want to carry them all the afternoon? One of the keeper fellows will bring them along.”
The lad’s tone was half contemptuous; he had already shown that he considered the Canadian what he would have called an outsider; but he was willing to make use of him.
“You might look after Bella; she’s alone in the next butt—and I’ve something else to do,” he said. “There’s an awkward ghyll to cross and she won’t carry anything lighter than a 14-gun. See she doesn’t leave the cartridges in it.”
He strode away across the heather, and Lisle turned toward the turf shelter indicated. As he approached it, a girl appeared and glanced at him with very obvious curiosity; but as he supposed that she was the sister of his late companion he did not expect any diffidence from her. She was short in stature and slight in figure, and dressed in grayish brown; hat, coat, and remarkably short skirt all of the same material. Her hair was of a copper color; her eyes, which were rather narrow, of a pale grayish-green. He would have called them hard, and there was a hint of arrogance in her expression. Yet she was piquantly pretty.
“I suppose you’re Nasmyth’s Canadian friend?” she began, and went on without waiting for an answer: “As we occupy adjoining butts on the next drive, you may take my gun. Teddy has deserted me.”
“Teddy?” queried Lisle, who wondered if she were referring to her brother. “I thought his name was Jim.”
“It’s Marple’s stout friend with the dyed hair I mean. I told him what would happen if he ate as he persisted in doing at lunch. It’s too hot to gormandize; I wasn’t astonished when he collapsed at the steep place on the last walk. Reflecting that it was his own fault, I left him.”
Lisle was not charmed with the girl’s manners, but he could not check a smile.
“Are you tired? You oughtn’t to be,” she continued with another bold glance at him.