Signed:
NATL. BELL.
GON BARTY.
Now, as he conned over these words of Natty Bell, a hand was laid
upon his shoulder, and, glancing round, he beheld the Viscount in
all the bravery of scarlet hunting frock, of snowy buckskins and
spurred boots, a little paler than usual, perhaps, but as gallant a
figure as need be.
"What, Bev!" he exclaimed, "not dressed yet?"
"Why I've only just woke up, Dick!"
"Woke up! D' you mean to say you've actually--been asleep?" demanded
the Viscount reproachfully. "Gad! what a devilish cold-blooded fish
you are, Bev! Haven't closed a peeper all night, myself. Couldn't,
y' know, what with one deuced thing or another. So I got up, hours
ago, went and looked at the horses. Found your man Martin on guard
with a loaded pistol in each pocket, y' know,--deuced trustworthy
fellow. The horses couldn't look better, Bev. Egad! I believe they
know to-day is--the day! There's your 'Terror' pawing and fidgeting,
and 'Moonraker' stamping and quivering--"
"But how is your arm, Dick?"
"Arm?" said the Viscount innocently. "Oh,--ah, to be sure,--thanks,
couldn't be better, considering.
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