herself back in her chair, laughing, and
begging Heathcock's pardon. 'Oh, take care of the dog, my dear colonel!'
cried she; 'for this kind of dog seizes his enemy by the back, and
shakes him to death.' The officers, holding their sides, laughed, and
begged--no pardon; while Lord Colambre, the only person who was not
absolutely incapacitated, tried to disentangle the spur, and to liberate
the colonel from the goat, and the goat from the colonel; an attempt in
which he at last succeeded, at the expense of a considerable portion
of the goat's beard. The eagle, however, still kept his place; and, yet
mindful of the wrongs of his insulted friend the goat, had stretched his
wings to give another buffet. Count O'Halloran entered; and the bird,
quitting his prey, flew down to greet his master. The count was a
fine old military-looking gentleman, fresh from the chace: his hunting
accoutrements hanging carelessly about him, he advanced, unembarrassed,
to the lady; and received his other guests with a mixture of military
ease and gentleman-like dignity.

Without adverting to the awkward and ridiculous situation in which he
had found poor Heathcock, he apologised in general for his troublesome
favourites. 'For one of them,' said he, patting the head of the dog,
which lay quiet at Lady Dashfort's feet, 'I see I have no need to
apologise; he is where he ought to be. Poor fellow! he has never lost
his taste for the good company to which he was early accustomed. As to
the rest,' said he, turning to Lady Dashfort, 'a mouse, a bird, and
a fish, are, you know, tribute from earth, air, and water, for my
conqueror--'

'But from no barbarous Scythian!' said Lord Colambre, smiling. The count
looked at Lord Colambre, as at a person worthy his attention; but his
first care was to keep the peace between his loving subjects and his
foreign visitors. It was difficult to dislodge the old settlers, to
make room for the newcomers; but he adjusted these things with admirable
facility; and, with a master's hand and master's eye, compelled each
favourite to retreat into the back settlements. With becoming attention,
he stroked and kept quiet old Victory, his eagle, who eyed Colonel
Heathcock still, as if he did not like him; and whom the colonel eyed,
as if he wished his neck fairly wrung off. The little goat had nestled
himself close up to his liberator, Lord Colambre, and lay perfectly
quiet, with his eyes closed, going very wisely to sleep, and sub