Nor was it ever resumed, for at that moment, with no other announcement save such as was afforded by his quick step and the click-click of his spurs, a short, slight man entered the quadrangle from the doorway of the official wing.
The adjutant, turning to look, caught his breath suddenly in an exclamation of astonishment.
"Lord Wellington!" he cried, and was immediately on his feet.
At the exclamation the new-comer checked and turned.

He wore a plain grey undress frock and white stock, buckskin breeches and lacquered boots, and he carried a riding-crop tucked under his left arm.

His features were bold and sternly handsome; his fine eyes singularly piercing and keen in their glance; and the sweep of those eyes now took in not merely the adjutant, but the spread table and the ladies seated before it.

He halted a moment, then advanced quickly, swept his cocked hat from a brown head that was but very slightly touched with grey, and bowed with a mixture of stiffness and courtliness to the ladies.
"Since I have intruded so unwittingly, I had best remain to make my apologies," he said.

"I was on my way to your residential quarters, O'Moy, not imagining that I should break in upon your privacy in this fashion." O'Moy with a great deference made haste to reassure him on the score of the intrusion, whilst the ladies themselves rose to greet him.