ut only
to be overtaken by Scarlett, with the effect that the latter portion of
the descent was achieved with additional velocity.

The ride was so satisfactory, that it was tried again and again,
sometimes one first, sometimes the other.

"Wonder whether I could travel all along the gallery and down to the
bottom, hanging on to the balusters," said Fred, looking up at the
turned supports, which grew thin in one place, and offered a tempting
grip for the hands.

"Try," said his companion.

"You'd play some trick!"

"No, I wouldn't."

"Honour bright!"

"Honour bright."

"Here goes, then."

Fred bounded up the stairs, ran along the gallery, climbed over the
balustrade, and lowered himself down till he hung by his hands, holding
on to the thin part of the balusters, while Scarlett looked up and his
grim-looking ancestors looked down.

For as Fred Forrester, son of Colonel Forrester, of the Manor, performed
his feat, with no little display of agility, old Sir Gabriel Markham,
who had built the hall in the days of Henry the Seventh, frowned from
his canvas in one of the panels, and looked as cold and angry as an old
knight clad in steel could look.

There, too, was Sir Henry, seeming equally stern in his court suit and
hat, and Dame Markham, in stomacher and farthingale and ruff, with quite
a look of alarm on their countenances, which was reflected from that of
another of the old Markhams--all appearing either angry or startled at
such a freak being played in their august presence.

There was one exception though, in the face of a sweet-looking lady of
about twenty, whose eyes seemed to follow the boys, while a pleasant,
mirthful smile was upon her lip.

But the boys did not even give a thought to the portraits, whose eyes
seemed to watch them till the feat, which required the exercise of no
little muscular effort, was dexterously performed, and Fred stood on the
oaken floor.

"Well, I suppose you think I couldn't do that, do you?" cried Scarlett.

"Not I. Any one could do it if he tried."

"Yes, I should think he could, and in half the time you took. Look
here; I'll show you."

"Try if you can do it with your face turned this way, Scar," cried Fred.

For answer, the boy, who had reached the gallery, ran along to the end,
climbed over, and then lowered himself down till he hung at full length
by both hands clasping the balusters. Then he hung by one, and cleverly
swinging round, grasped another ba