'Now that Jack is nearly quite well,' said Maude to her, 'we are to have all manner of festivities before the pheasant shooting is over, and we all bid adieu to dear old Earlshaugh, Roland says. There will be a ball, the Hunt Ball, a steeplechase is also talked of, and I know not what more.'
But ere these things came to pass there occurred a catastrophe which none at Earlshaugh could foresee, that of which, to his profound concern and bewilderment, Malcolm Skene read in the papers at Pietro Girolamo's roulette saloon, at Cairo.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE FIRST OF OCTOBER.
'As weel try to sup soor dook wi' an elshin as shoot in comfort wi' that coofor waur—that gowk Hawkey Sharpe—so thank gudeness he's no wi' us this day!' snorted old Gavin Fowler, the gamekeeper, when, on the morning of the all-important 1st of October, he shouldered his gun and whistled forth the dogs.
But Hawkey Sharpe was fated to be cognisant of one grim feature in that day's sport in a way none knew save himself.
So October had come—'the time,' says Colonel Hawker, 'when the farmer has leisure to enjoy a little sport after all his hard labour without neglecting his business; and the gentleman, by a day's shooting at that time, becomes refreshed and invigorated, instead of wearing out himself and his dogs by slaving after partridges under the broiling sun of the preceding month. The evenings begin to close, and he then enjoys his home and fireside, after a day's shooting of sufficient duration to brace his nerves and make everything agreeable.'
'We'll make good bags to-day,' was the opinion of all.
Despite Maude's entreaties, Jack Elliot was too keen a sportsman to forego the first day of the pheasant shooting, though his scar was scarcely healed, and thought, though he did not say so to her, that next October might see him 'potting' a darker kind of game in the Soudan.
'Get me a golden pheasant's wing for my hat, dear Roland,' said Annot laughingly, as he came forth with his favourite breechloader from the gun-room; and though such birds were scarce in the East Neuk, the request proved somewhat of a fatal one, as we shall show; but Annot had no foreboding of that when, with her usual childish effusiveness, she bade Roland farewell, as he went to join the group of sportsmen and dogs at the porte-cochère.