rs. "We can't treat him
like that; tell him to stay a week and send for his gun. For the
matter of that he can have one of mine. I don't expect he will be able
to hit a haystack," was his reply.

So I wrote again, and to my surprise The Bradder accepted the
invitation and appeared a few days afterwards with no marks of the
tourist upon him; for there is no mistaking people who are on walking
tours, their anxiety to get on stamps itself upon their faces, and
their luggage is generally on their backs or in their pockets. He told
us that his companion had broken down three days before, and that he
had been back to Oxford to get his gun. I never remember having seen
anybody who looked quite so fit as he did, and my father, who had a
kind of general impression that every tutor in Oxford was anaemic,
seemed to be thoroughly pleased with him. Thus I was lulled into a
false state of security, for I had intended to warn The Bradder not to
speak of politics while he was with us, but as every one took a fancy
to him at sight I thought that I need not trouble to say anything.

There was a lot of speculation about The Bradder's shooting, he shot
whenever he got the ghost of a chance, but he added more to the noise
than to the number of the bag. He tried to persuade my father before
he started that he was the worst shot in the world, but he was not
believed until he had proved that he had spoken the truth. He was,
however, much happier in a bad than in a good place, and he seemed to
be perfectly pleased as long as he could see an occasional bird to
shoot at. My father said that he was a good sportsman, though had he
not liked him he would have called him a rank bad shot.

Two days passed by successfully, and then The Bradder discovered that
there was an old abbey near us, and arranged with Nina to go over and
see it. Why in the world any one should want to see an abbey when he
could shoot at pheasants, was more than my father could understand.

"The abbey will be here the next time you come, let it wait," he said
at breakfast.

"I should like to see it," The Bradder replied; "besides, I never kill
anything."

"You needn't bother about that."

"I have promised Miss Marten to go, she said she would drive me over,"
he replied, and any one could see that he didn't mean to shoot.

"As you like," my father said, and told me to be ready in ten minutes,
though we were not going to start for an hour.

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