Despite
all his resolve to be perfectly cool and calm, his heart was beating
quickly; and again and again he was repeating to himself Honnor
Cunyngham's counsel, and wondering whether he would disgrace himself at
the very outset, when some bewildering brown thing sprang from the
ground, there was a terrific whir, a crack from Captain Waveney's
gun--and away along there the grouse came tumbling down into the
heather. Almost at the same moment there was another appalling whir on
his right--followed by a bang from Sir Hugh's gun--and another bird fell
headlong. After the briefest pause for reloading, the setter, that had
obediently dropped at the first shot, was encouraged to go forward, the
guns warily following. But it turned out that this had been an outlying
brace of birds; the dogs were soon ranging freely again; Roderick picked
up the slain grouse, and the whole party went on.
"Sorry you didn't get the first shot, Mr. Moore," said Sir Hugh, who was
a short, thick-set man, with a fresh-colored face, iron-gray hair, and
keen, light-blue eyes.
"I wish the birds would all rise to you two," Lionel said. "Then I
shouldn't have to pitch into myself for missing.
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