ye'd prefaire to drink yer am," he said. At which the crowd giggled
afresh; and a gray head at the back, which had hoped itself
unrecognized, disappeared suddenly.

The little man stood there in the stillness, sourly smiling, his face
still wet from his exertions; while the Tailless Tyke at his side
fronted defiantly the serried ring of onlookers, a white fence of
teeth faintly visible between his lips.

Lady Eleanour looked uneasy. Usually the lucky winner was
unable to hear her little speech, as she gave the Cup away, so
deafening was the applause. Now there was utter silence. She
glanced up at the crowd, but there was no response to her
unspoken appeal in that forest of hostile faces. And her gentle
heart bled for the forlorn little man before her. To make it up she
smiled on him so sweetly as to more than compensate him.

"I'm sure you deserve your success, Mr. M'Adam," she said. "You
and Red Wull there worked splendidly--everybody says so."

"I've heard naethin' o't," the little man answered dryly. At which
some one in the crowd sniggered.

"And we all know what a grand dog he is; though"--with a
reproving smile as she glanced at Red Wull's square, truncated
stern--" he's not very polite."

"His heart is good, your Leddyship, if his manners are not,"
M'Adam answered, smiling.