My Lady Caprice | Page 9

while the air about one is fragrant with summer, and heavy
with the drone of unseen wings! - What ordinary mortal could wish for
more? And yet, though conscious of this fair world about me, I was still
uncontent, for my world was incomplete - nay, lacked its most essential
charm, and I sat with my ears on the stretch, waiting for Lisbeth's

chance footstep on the path and the soft whisper of her skirts.
The French are indeed a great people, for among many other things
they alone have caught that magic sound a woman's garments make as
she walks, and given it to the world in the one word "frou-frou."
0 wondrous word! 0 word sublime! How full art thou of delicate
suggestion! Truly, there can be no sweeter sound to ears masculine
upon a golden summer afternoon - or any other time, for that matter -
than the soft "frou-frou" that tells him SHE is coming.
At this point my thoughts were interrupted by something which hurtled
through the air and splashed into the water at my feet!" Glancing at this
object, I recognised the loud-toned cricket cap affected by the Imp, and
reaching for it, I fished it out on the end of my rod!" It was a hideous
thing of red, white, blue, and green - a really horrible affair, and
therefore much prized by its owner, as I knew.
Behind me the bank rose some four or five feet, crowned with willows
and underbrush, from the other side of which there now came a
prodigious rustling and panting!" Rising to my feet therefore, I parted
the leaves with extreme care, and beheld the Imp himself.
He was armed to the teeth - that is to say, a wooden sword swung at his
thigh, a tin bugle depended from his belt, and he carried a bow and
arrow. Opposite him was another boy, particularly ragged at knee and
elbow, who stood with hands thrust into his pockets and grinned.
"Base caitiff, hold!" cried the Imp, fitting an arrow to the string: "stand
an' deliver!" Give me my cap, thou varlet, thou!" The boy's grin
expanded.
"Give me my cap, base slave, or I'll shoot you - by my troth!" As he
spoke the Imp aimed his arrow, whereupon the boy ducked promptly.
"I ain't got yer cap," he grinned from the shelter of his arm. "It's been
an' gone an' throwed itself into the river!" The Imp let fly his arrow,
which was answered by a yell from the Base Varlet.
"Yah!" he cried derisively as the Imp drew his sword with a
melodramatic flourish. "Yah! put down that stick an' I'll fight yer."
The Imp indignantly repudiated his trusty weapon being called "a stick"
- "an' I don't think," he went on, "that Robin Hood ever fought without
his sword!" Let's see what the book says," and he drew a very crumpled
papercovered volume from his pocket, which he consulted with knitted
brows, while the Base Varlet watched him, open-mouthed.

"Oh, yes," nodded the Imp; "it's all right!" Listen to this!" and he read
as follows in a stern, deep voice:
"'Then Robin tossed aside his trusty blade, an' laying bare his knotted
arm, approached the dastardly ruffian with many a merry quip and jest,
prepared for the fierce death-grip.'"
Hereupon the Imp laid aside his book and weapons and proceeded to
roll up his sleeve, having done which to his satisfaction, he faced round
upon the Base Varlet.
"Have at ye, dastardly ruffian!" he cried, and therewith ensued a battle,
fierce and fell.
If his antagonist had it in height, the Imp made up for it in weight - he
is a particularly solid Imp - and thus the struggle lasted for some five
minutes without any appreciable advantage to either, when, in eluding
one of the enemy's desperate rushes, the Imp stumbled, lost his balance,
and next moment I had caught him in my arms. For a space "the
enemy" remained panting on the bank above, and then with another yell
turned and darted off among the bushes.
"Hallo, Imp!" I said.
"Hallo, Uncle Dick!" he returned.
"Hurt?" I inquired.
"Wounded a bit in the nose, you know," he answered, mopping that
organ with his handkerchief; "but did you see me punch 'yon varlet' in
the eye?"
"Did you, Imp?"
"I think so, Uncle Dick; only I do wish I'd made him surrender!" The
book says that Robin Hood always made his enemies 'surrender an' beg
their life on trembling knee!' Oh, it must be fine to see your enemies on
their knee!"
"Especially if they tremble," I added.
"Do you s'pose that boy - I mean 'yon base varlet' would have
surrendered?"
"Not a doubt of it - if he hadn't happened to