morning I awoke to! Just the day for a good tramp in the woods. Dear me, Harry, what[Pg 29] a simpleton your dear father used to think me! 'What are you going to do?' he would ask me, and I would only want a pocketful of cartridges, a snack of cold lunch, and leave to prowl about by myself without a keeper, no trouble to anybody."

[Pg 29]

"Yes, that's good fun," said Geoffrey. "Now it's a rabbit, or over the stubble a partridge. Then a bit of cover, and you put up a pheasant. Let's have a go-as-you-please day, Harry."

"The poetry of shooting," said Mr. Francis. "Cold partridge for any one but me? No? You lads have no appetites!"

The keeper had been given his orders the day before, and very soon after breakfast the three shooters were ready to start. They went out by a garden door which gave on a flight of some dozen stone steps leading to the lawn; Mr. Francis, leading the way, nearly fell on the topmost of them, for they were masked with ice, and half turned as he recovered himself, to give a word of warning to the others. But he was too late, and Harry, who followed him, not looking to his feet, but speaking to Geoffrey over his shoulder at the same moment almost, had slipped on the treacherous stone and fallen sprawling, dropping his gun, and clutching ineffectually at the railing to save himself. Mr. Francis gave one exclamation of startled dismay, and ran to his assistance.

"My dear fellow," he cried, "I hope you are not hurt?"

Harry lay still a moment, his mouth twisted[Pg 30] with pain; then, taking hold of the railing, pulled himself to his feet, and stood with bowed head, gripping hard on the banister.

[Pg 30]

"All sideways on my ankle," he said.—"Just see if my gun's all right, Geoff.—Yes, I've twisted it, I'm afraid." He paused another moment, faint and dizzy, with a feeling of empty sickness, and then hobbled up the steps again.

"An awful wrench," he said. "Just give me your arm, Uncle Francis, will you? I can hardly put my foot to the ground."

Leaning on him, he limped back into the hall and dragged off his boot.

"Yes, it feels pretty bad," he said; "I came with my whole weight on to it. I shall be as lame as a tree."

Mr. Francis was on his knees, and in a moment had 

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