The Bars of Iron

is headlong Irish fashion chose to regard the scamper as a gross personal insult, that was surely not a matter for which he could reasonably be

d it had developed into a set and deadly battle almost bef

aware of his existence in those moments of delirious warfare. They were locked already in that silent, swaying grip which every fighti

t speedily became apparent to the rider that he woul

e approached the swaying fighting animals. It was like a ghastly wrestling-match. Both were on their feet, struggling

with the zeal of unrestrained fury. "Caesar, you infern

ter and not his enemy was responsible for the flail-like strokes of the whirling

trol. He set to work to thrash and thrash the fighting animals

e ended it would be hard to say. But, luckily for all three, there came at length an interruption. Someone-a woman-came sw

ugh somewhat hurried, was one of clear command. "Get out of

nt, his face white with passion. "

rned promptly. "Stand away n

g animals. Her face also shone white in the wintry

t move, she flung the icy water without

violently. But she bro

ime! Grab your dog

And so it came to pass that five seconds later, Caesar was being mercilessly thrashed by his e

h; but no amount of protest on his part made the smallest impression upon the wielder of the whip. It c

om the Vicarage garden again; but she burst upon the scene this time with something of the effect

e!" she cried

face to face. Caesar crept whining

hat quivering grasp. He spoke in a voice that struggled

g has his rights," she said.

ing darkness. She was trembling as

repeated wit

weapon into her hand. "Are you go

m not that sort. But-it's horrible to see a man los

n the path. He wagged an ingratiating tail at her approach. It was evident t

dling his head. "Oh, poor

ide her. "He'll be all right," he s

she said. "See!" displaying a lo

ed Caesar's master. "I hope

e said. "But don't you thi

he said. "They'll see

p still firmly grasped in her hand. "You wo

m much obliged to you for interfering. And I'm sorry I used language, but

f it. There was a touch of arrogance in his bearing which was ob

dismay. "But you must be drenched to the skin!" she sa

fault, as you kindly omit to mention. I must be getting back to

t gesture of surprise, which arrested him. "Oh, you are young Mr. Evesham!-I

urhood. They won't let me grow up. Rather a shame, what? I'm nearly twenty-fi

augh. "Yes, it is a shame!" she agreed. "But then Sir Beverley is

sham. He'll go for another twenty years. There's a saying in our family that if we don't die violently, we ne

am only the mother's help at

nding. "I suppose you do it for a living," he remarked. "Personally, I'd soo

ile that would not be denied. "I must go in now. Here you are!"

hen paused. "You might tell m

y, light-footed, swift as

is Denys,

to his cap aga

Denys. G

drive and then the quick opening of a door. It closed again im

ionless, staring at the Vicarage gates, a slight frown between his brows. He w

et up, Caesar, you fool! And think yourself lucky that you've got any sound b

ure, and patted the miscreant;

e's fault." He swung himself into the saddle. "By Jove, thoug

t home as was his master, and he needed no second urging. He scarcely waited to get within the gates of the Park before he gathered himself toget

head-keeper who stood gun on shoulder at the gate of

r like that for?" he grumbled. "He'll go and kill him

s had been, and Marshall had no mind to take part in a similar tragedy. It had been a bitter task, that of telling Sir Beverley that his only son was dead; but to have borne him ill tidings of his grandson would have been infi

that harm had befallen Master Piers, and his frown deepened as he trudged up his lit

his father was," he muttered

bride whom Sir Beverley had once upon a time brought to reign there. It had been a short, short reign, and no one spoke of it now,-leas

s mysterious verdict. For was not Master Piers the living image of her? Had he not the same imperial bearing and regal turn

e that he blinded himself to it. It was too vividly apparent for that. "A perpetual eyesore," Marshall termed it in private. But then there was no accounting for the ways of folk in high pla

ng. The boy had a winning way with him, and but for his hatred of Victor, who was soft and womanish, but extremely tenacious, Marshall would have liked to have had a hand in his upbringing. As it was, he could only look on from afar and condemn the vagaries of "that dratted boy," prophesying disaster whenever he saw him and hopi

d drunk strong wine. The animal he rode was covered with foam, and danced a springy war-dance on the stones. Caesar trotte

lt. Look at him grinning! Better wash him one of you! He can't come in in that state." He slipped to th

arked the groom at Pompey's

ce. "By Jove!" he said to him, "I couldn't grin like that if I'd had the thrashing you've had. And I couldn't kiss the hand that did it either. You're a gentleman, Caesar, and I hum

light-heartedly, and Phipps glanced at a co

ked that jug of