At this moment his companions arrived, and one of them said, with a stupid grin—
“A brace only, Spoonly; Vane and I will have to go Newmarket for the other.”
Lotte felt her companion shiver, shrink, cower, as though she would sink into the earth. She clung tightly, desperately to Lotte, and in a low, hissing whisper, she murmured—
“For mercy’s sake, let us fly!”
“Stand aside, sir!” cried Lotte, firmly, and with clear tones, to the man who detained her; “let us pass on without further interruption.”
“I will do anything in the world, my little pet, to gratify you,” responded the man whom she addressed, “but that—a—I cannot do that.”
Again Lotte stamped her little foot angrily.
“But you shall!” she exclaimed. “A ruffled dove, by Jupiter!” exclaimed her tormentor laughing. “Now, if there is one thing I love to see beyond aught else, it is a ruffled dove. It is such a pretty bird, and it swells and extends its feathers, and struts so gloriously, I feel that I could catch it in my arms and press it”——
“I say—though—by Jove—here, Spoonly, stop,” suddenly observed the person who had before spoken, “I know this young lady; you must give way to me here.”
“You know her, Grahame!” cried the man he addressed as Spoonly; “well, that gives an interesting turn to the incident.”