the bank. Even then he fought splendidly to the last. As soon as he got to recognize that an enemy was waiting for him—an enemy armed with some white, shining thing that he more than once warily slipped out of—he would make struggle after struggle to keep away—until at last there was a sudden, swift, decisive stroke of the steel clip, and Robert had his glittering prize safely ashore.
"What o'clock is it, Mr. Moore?" said Miss Honnor—but she seemed pleased with the result of this brisk encounter.
He looked at his watch.
"Half-past seven," he said.
"Yes; I thought I heard the first bell; we must make haste home. Not but that my sisters are very good to me," she continued, as she took the fly that Robert handed her and stuck it in her Tam o' Shanter; "if I happen to have got hold of a fish, I am allowed to come in to dinner anyhow. And then, you know, there is no great ceremony at this bungalow of a place; it's different at the Braes, if Lady Adela happens to have a large house-party—then I have to behave like other folk. What do you say, Robert—seven pounds? Well, he made a good fight of it. And I'm glad not to be going home empty-handed."
So Lionel picked up her waterproof and put it over his arm; she shouldered her fishing-rod, after having reeled in the line; the handsome old gillie brought up the rear with the gaff and the slung grilse; and thus equipped the three of them set out for the lodge—across the wide valley that was now all russet and golden under the warm light still lingering in the evening skies.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE TWELFTH.
When Lionel went down early next morning, he found Lady Adela's father in sole possession; and was not long in discovering that the old earl was in a towering rage.