“Halloa, Brill!” he cried.  “Half a moment.”

The Major stopped and waited for his friend; Halibut eyed the tie uneasily—­it was fearfully and wonderfully made—­but said nothing.

“Well?” said the Major, somewhat sharply.

“Oh—­I was going to ask you, Brill—­Confound it!  I’ve forgotten what I was going to say now.  I daresay I shall soon think of it.  You’re not in a hurry?”

“Well, I am, rather,” said Brill.  “Fact is—­ Is my hat on straight, Halibut?”

The other assuring him that it was, the Major paused in his career, and gripping the brim with both hands, deliberately tilted it over the right eye again.

“You were saying—­” said Halibut, regarding this manoeuvre with secret disapproval.

“Yes,” murmured the Major, “I was saying.  Well, I don’t mind telling an old friend like you, Halibut, though it is a profound secret.  Makes me rather particular about my dress just now.  Women notice these things.  I’m—­sha’nt get much sympathy from a confirmed old bachelor like you—­but I’m on my way to put a very momentous question.”

“The devil you are!” said the other, blankly.

“Sir!” said the astonished Major.

“Not Mrs. Riddel?” said Halibut.

“Certainly, sir,” said the Major, stiffly.  “Why not?”

“Only that I am going on the same errand,” said the confirmed bachelor, with desperate calmness.

The Major looked at him, and for the first time noticed an unusual neatness and dressiness in his friend’s attire.  His collar was higher than usual; his tie, of the whitest and finest silk, bore a pin he never remembered to have seen before; and for the first time since he had known him, the Major, with a strange sinking at the heart, saw that he wore spats.

“This is extraordinary,” he said, briefly.  “Well, good-day, Halibut.  Can’t stop.”

“Good-day,” said the other.

The Major quickened his pace and shot ahead, and keeping in the shade of the hedge, ground his teeth as the civilian on the other side of the road slowly, but surely, gained on him.

It became exciting.  The Major was handicapped by his upright bearing and short military stride; the other, a simple child of the city, bent forward, swinging his arms and taking immense strides.  At a by-lane they picked up three small boys, who, trotting in their rear, made it evident by their remarks that they considered themselves the privileged spectators of a foot-race.  The Major could stand it no longer, and with a cut of his cane at the foremost boy, softly called a halt.

“Well,” said Halibut, stopping.

The man’s manner was suspicious, not to say offensive, and the other had much ado to speak him fair.

“This is ridiculous,” he said, trying to smile.  “We can’t walk in and propose in a duet.  One of us must go to-day and the other to-morrow.”

“Certainly,” said Halibut; “that’ll be the best plan.”