'Save him, colonel, save him; and I'll give you--' Alas! the charge of shot at a few feet distance had entered like a bullet, tearing a great ragged hole .-- There was no hope, and the colonel knew it; but he said nothing.
'The second keeper,' sighed Argemone, 'who has been killed here! Oh, Mr.Smith, must this be?
Is God's blessing on all this ?' Lancelot said nothing.

The old man lighted up at Argemone's voice.
'There's the beauty, there's the pride of Whitford.

And sweet Miss Honor, too,--so kind to nurse a poor old man! But she never would let him teach her to catch perch, would she?
She was always too tender-hearted.

Ah, squire, when we're dead and gone,--dead and gone,--squire, they'll be the pride of Whitford still! And they'll keep up the old place--won't you, my darlings?
And the old name, too! For, you know, there must always be a Lavington in Whitford Priors, till the Nun's pool runs up to Ashy Down.' 'And a curse upon the Lavingtons,' sighed Argemone to herself in an undertone.
Lancelot heard what she said.
The vicar entered, but he was too late.

The old man's strength was failing, and his mind began to wander.
'Windy,' he murmured to himself, 'windy, dark and windy--birds won't lie--not old Harry's fault.