ough spent at Hanover, Berlin,
Vienna, and the Hague, engaged in negotiations and preparations for his
campaign, and at Vienna his Grace of Osmonde joined him that they might
talk face to face, even the great warrior's composure being shaken by
the disappointment of the year. But a fortnight before his leaving
England there came to Osmonde's ear rumours of a story from
Gloucestershire--'twas of a nature more fantastic than any other, and
far more unexpected. The story was imperfectly told and without detail,
and detail no man or woman seemed able to acquire, and baffled
curiosity ran wild, no story having so whetted it as this last.

"But we shall hear later," said one, "for 'tis said Jack Oxon was
there, being on a visit to his kinsman, Lord Eldershawe, who has been
the young lady's playmate from her childhood. Jack will come back
primed and will strut about for a week and boast of his fortunes
whether he can prove them or not."

But this Osmonde did not hear, having already left town for a few days
at Camylott, where my Lord Dunstanwolde accompanied him, and at the
week's end they went together to Warwickshire, and as on the occasion
of Osmonde's other visit, the first evening they were at the Wolde came
my Lord Twemlow, more excited than ever before, and he knew and told
the whole story.

"Things have gone from bad to worse," he said, "and at last I sent my
Chaplain as I had planned, and the man came back frightened out of his
wits, having reached the hall-door in a panic and there found himself
confronted by what he took to be a fine lad in hunting-dress making his
dog practise jumping tricks. And 'twas no lad, of course, but my fine
mistress in her boy's clothes, and she takes him to her father and
makes a saucy jest of the whole matter, tossing off a tankard of ale as
she sits on the table laughing at him and keeping Sir Jeoffry from
breaking his head in a rage. And in the end she sends an impudent
message to me--but says I am right, the shrewd young jade, and that she
will see that no disgrace befalls me. But for all that, the Chaplain
came home in a cold sweat, poor fool, and knows not what to say when he
speaks of her."

"And then?" said my Lord Dunstanwolde, somewhat anxiously, "is it
true--that which we heard rumoured in town----"

Lord Twemlow shook his head ruefully. "Heaven knows how it will end,"
he said, "or if it is but a new impudent prank--or what she will do
next--but the whole country is agog