"You old fool!" he said under his breath. "You look like landing us fairly."
"Well," whispered the egregious I, "we can't leave the poor chap in the lurch at this stage of the proceedings, can we?"
"I suppose not; but this business looks like costing me my billet. Let us pray God he don't intend to shoot the ambassador."
"Not he," said I, assuming a cheerfulness I did not feel, in the hope of minimising my lapse from the strait way of prudence. "He is a very sensible fellow and a devilish plucky one."
The immediate result of my indiscretion was that I was urged to summon my relation by marriage, in order that his valuable services might be enlisted. With that end in view, Parkins was sent in search of him. He returned all too soon with the information that he was over at the Hall playing billiards with Lord Brasset.
"Two birds with one stone!" said Fitz, exultantly. "The best thing we can do is to go over and see them."
The Hall is not more than a hundred yards or so from our modest demesne; and at Fitz's behest we set forth in quest of recruits.
"Nice state o' things!" growled Coverdale en route.
In due course we were ushered into Brasset's billiard-room. The owner thereof and my relation by marriage were engaged in a friendly but one-sided game of shilling snooker. The latter, in accordance with his invariable practice of "putting his best leg first" to atone for the lifelong handicap of having been born a younger son, was potting three times the number of balls of his charmingly amiable and courteous opponent.
"Hullo, you fellows," said Brasset. "Take a cue and join us."