"The trees hereabouts certainly bear very remarkable, not to say delightful fruit," he said.
"And as you will remember, I was always particularly fond of apple-trees," I interpolated.
"Mr. Selwyn," smiled Lisbeth, "let me introduce you to Mr. Brent."
"Sir," I said, "I am delighted to make your acquaintance; have heard Her Grace of Chelsea speak of you--her friends are mine, I trust?"
Mr. Selwyn's bow was rather more than distant.
"I have already had the pleasure of meeting this--this very original gentleman before, and under rather peculiar circumstances, Miss Elizabeth," he said, and forthwith plunged into an account of the whole affair of the "ambushes," while Lisbeth, perched upon her lofty throne, surveyed us with an ever-growing astonishment.
"Whatever does it all mean?" she inquired as Mr. Selwyn made an end.
"You must know then," I explained, leaning upon my quarter-staff, "the Imp took it into his head to become Robin Hood; I was Little-John, and Mr. Selwyn here was so very obliging as to enact the rôle of Sheriff of Nottingham----"
"I beg your pardon," exclaimed Mr. Selwyn indignantly, turning upon me with a fiery eye.
"Everyone recollects the immortal exploits of Robin and his 'merrie men,'" I continued, "and you will, of course, remember that they had a habit of capturing the Sheriff and tying him up to trees and things. Naturally the Imp did not proceed to that extreme. He contented himself with merely capturing the Sheriff's hat. I think that you will agree that those 'ambushes' worked like a charm, Mr. Selwyn?"