Ten minutes more and we entered the village. The grounds where
the fete was to be holden lay three-quarters of a mile further
on. The ball was opened by two small errand boys, on whose
hands, as is usual with the breed, time was lying heavily.
They were engaged in deep converse as we came up, and it was only
when we were close upon them that they became aware of our
presence. For a few seconds they stared at us, apparently rooted
to the spot, and as if they could not believe their good fortune.
Then one broke into an explosive bellow of delight, while the
other ran off squeaking with excitement to find other devils who
should share the treasure-trove. But, unlike his infamous
predecessor, he was not content with seven. When he returned, it
was but as the van of a fast-swelling rabble. His erstwhile
companion, who had been backing steadily in front of me ever
since he left, and had, after a hurried consideration of the
respective merits of the booth and the box under Judy's arm,
rejected them both in favour of my nose, kept his eyes fastened
greedily upon that organ with so desperate an air of
concentration that I was quite relieved when he tripped over a
brick and fell on his back in the road.

And all this time our following grew. The news of our advent
had spread like wildfire. Old men and maidens, young men and
boys, the matron and the maid, alike came running. Altogether,
Lynn Hammer was set throbbing with an excitement such as it had
not experienced since the baker's assistant was wrongly arrested
for petty larceny in 1904.

Amongst those who walked close about us, candid speculation as