the grooms to place them on their father's chargers; and they were
frequent visitors at feeding-time, taking a never-ending delight in the
gourmandism of the whinnying beasts, and finding particular joy in
acquiring the language and the mannerisms of the stablemen, which they
would reserve for, and solemnly use at, the next gathering of the
neighbouring gentry.

When Elise was ten and Dick seven, she read him highwaymen's tales
until his large blue eyes almost escaped from their sockets. It was at
the finish of one of these narratives of derring-do that she whispered
temptation into his ear, with the result that they bided their
opportunity, and, when the one groom on duty was asleep, repaired to
the stables armed with a loaded shot-gun. After herculean efforts they
succeeded in harnessing Lord Durwent's famous hunter with the saddle
back to front, the curb-bit choking the horse's throat, the brow-band
tightly strapped around the poor beast's nostrils, the surcingle
trailing in the dust.

With improvised masks over their faces, they mounted the steed and set
out for adventure, the horse seeming to comprehend its strange burden
and stepping as lightly as its tortures would permit, while the saddle
slid cheerfully about its back, threatening any moment to roll the
desperados on to the road.

They had just emerged from the estate into the public highway, when a
passing butcher's cart stopped their progress. The younger Durwent,
who had been mastering the art of retaining his seat while his steed
was in motion, was unprepared for its cessation, and promptly
overbalanced over the horse's shoulder, reaching the road head first,
and discharging a couple of pellets from the shotgun into a fleshy part