ane," spelling not being taught at Oxford. He
therefore wrote:

"And meanwhile, what of the aeroplane? Fortunately, the night was
short, and there was soon enough light by which to fly, and in a brief
time the seneschals and myrmidons had the great machine in the midst of
the tourney-ground, all ready for flight. Lord Almeric seated himself
and grasped the lever. A firm push from the willing arms of a hundred
carles and hinds, and he was in the air. 'Ah,' he cried, 'odds bodkins,
this is indeed life! Never have I felt such sensations. I will never
walk or ride again. I will sell my motorcar and my horses and my boots.
Flying is for me for ever!"'

Jack now took the paper:

"Lord Almeric was always a very clever man, and it was nothing to him
that he had never flown before. He had studied the pictures of the
flying men in the illustrated papers while waiting at the dentist's,
and he knew the principles of mechanics. No wonder, then, that he flew
with perfect control, circling the home turret, where the Lady Elfrida
was still weeping, with the greatest ease, and calling to her messages
of comfort, which--"

Here the Snarker called "Time!" again, and Mr. Lenox's young brother
took the paper:

"--she could not hear. 'Come down, good lord, or of a verity thou wilt
fall and crack thy coxcomb!' shouted the major-domo from beneath; but
the intrepid Almeric heeded not the warning, and only rose higher and
higher, nearer and nearer to the stars. And then, suddenly, there was
an awful shriek, and his body was seen to be hurtling steadily and
surely towards the earth, gaining speed with every revolution. 'Help,
help!' they cried; 'he must be dashed to pieces; nothing can save him.'
But at that moment--"

Here Horace had to go on. He was not a literary boy, and it took him
more than one minute to read all that had gone before. All he could
therefore add was:

"--he woke up. 'Where am I?' he said. 'You have fallen out of bed,'
said Lady Elfrida."

Poor Hester! her face was a picture of perplexity and indignation when
she came to read the story all through. There was clearly no sensible
ending possible, and she therefore merely wrote:

"Not to this day has the secret of the Castle been solved, but visitors
are still shown, on payment of a shilling each, the place where Lord
Almeric dreamed he fell from a flying-machine in the year 1135."

And then Mr. Lenox's young brother and his friends took them back to
the Mitre, an