The Cornet of Horse | Page 5

swords with me," and now he spoke with a
hauteur characteristic of a French noble rather than a fencing master.
Madam Holliday was silent; but just as she was about to speak again, a
sound of horses' hoofs were heard outside. The silence continued until a
domestic entered, and said that Sir William Brownlow and his son
awaited madam's pleasure in the drawing room.
A dark cloud passed over the old colonel's face as Mistress Dorothy

rose and, with a sweeping courtesy, left the room.
"Let us go into the garden, monsieur," he said abruptly, "and see how
your daughter is getting on."
Adele was talking eagerly with Rupert, at a short distance from whom
stood a lad some two years his senior, dressed in an attire that showed
he was of inferior rank. Hugh Parsons was in fact the son of the tenant
of the home farm of the Chace, and had since Rupert's childhood been
his playmate, companion, and protector.
"Monsieur mon pere," Adele said, dancing up to her father, and pausing
for a moment to courtesy deeply to him and Colonel Holliday,
"Monsieur Rupert is going out with his hawks after a heron that Hugh
has seen in the pool a mile from here. He has offered to take me on his
pony, if you will give permission for me to go."
"Certainly, you may go, Adele. Monsieur Rupert will be careful of you,
I am sure."
"Yes, indeed," Rupert said. "I will be very careful.
"Hugh, see my pony saddled, and get the hawks. I will run in for a cloth
to lay over the saddle."
In five minutes the pony was brought round, a cloth was laid over the
saddle, and Rupert aided Adele to mount, with as much deference as if
he had been assisting a princess. Then he took the reins and walked by
the pony's head, while Hugh followed, with two hooded hawks upon
his arm.
"They are a pretty pair," Colonel Holliday said, looking after them.
"Yes," Monsieur Dessin replied, but so shortly that the colonel looked
at him with surprise.
He was looking after his daughter and Rupert with a grave, thoughtful
face, and had evidently answered his own thought rather than the old

cavalier's remark.
"Yes," he repeated, rousing himself with an effort, "they are a pretty
pair indeed."
At a walking pace, Rupert Holliday, very proud of his charge, led the
pony in the direction of the pool in which the heron had an hour before
been seen by Hugh, the boy and girl chattering in French as they went.
When they neared the spot they stopped, and Adele alighted. Then
Rupert took the hawks, while Hugh went forward alone to the edge of
the pool. Just as he reached it a heron soared up with a hoarse cry.
Rupert slipped the hoods off the hawks, and threw them into the air.
They circled for an instant, and then, as they saw their quarry rising,
darting off with the velocity of arrows. The heron instantly perceived
his danger, and soared straight upwards. The hawks pursued him,
sailing round in circles higher and higher. So they mounted until they
were mere specks in the sky.
At last the hawks got above the heron, and instantly prepared to pounce
upon him. Seeing his danger, the heron turned on his back, and, with
feet and beak pointed upwards to protect himself, fell almost like a
stone towards the earth; but more quickly still the hawks darted down
upon him. One the heron with a quick movement literally impaled upon
his sharp bill; but the other planted his talons in his breast, and, rending
and tearing at his neck, the three birds fell together, with a crash, to the
earth.
The flight had been so directly upwards that they fell but a short
distance from the pool, and the lads and Adele were quickly upon the
spot. The heron was killed by the fall; and to Rupert's grief; one of his
hawks was also dead, pierced through and through by the heron's beak.
The other bird was with difficulty removed from the quarry, and the
hood replaced.
Rupert, after giving the heron's plumes to Adele for her hat, led her
back to the pony, Hugh following with the hawk on his wrist, and
carrying the two dead birds.

"I am so sorry your hawk is killed," Adele said.
"Yes," Rupert answered, "it is a pity. It was a fine, bold bird, and gave
us lots of trouble to train; but he was always rash, and I told him over
and over again what would happen if he was not more careful."
"Have you any more?" Adele asked.
"No more falcons like this. I have gerfalcons, for pigeons and
partridges, but none for herons. But I