Leaving Rosy with a kind admonition not to worry herself, and to take some bread and chicken, he went out again to see that the carriage was drawn up properly out of the way and Reo’s refreshment cared for; and then he took post himself in the shadow of a clump of firs to wait for the expected revellers.

‘Pity the lady hadn’t stayed too, sir,’ said one of the men.  ’They’ll be along just now.  There’s more of ’em down than common, this year, they tell me, and it’ll be a show.’

Other people thought so too, evidently, for vehicles of various sorts, and people to match, began to gather along the road, till all the space about the entrance-way was well lined.  An expectant, rather noisy, crowd, a good deal in the interests of horseflesh but with a certain portion also of interest in gay men and women.

’There they come!’—­cried a boy high up in one of the trees; but at first it was only a quiet coach with two horses, Governor Powder’s own, and at once admitted.  Then there was another pause—­and at last down came the four-in-hands, with flashing lamps, and harness that glittered all over in the moonlight, and the fine in-time harmony of the horses’ hoof-beats.  There was singing too, from some of the turn-outs,—­ glees and choruses came in a faint wild mingling that rose and fell and changed with the changes of the road.

‘Captain Lancaster’s ahead!’ said one of the men.

‘No—­it’s Richard May.’

‘See for yourself, then,’ said the other, as the first superb four-in-hand came up; the horses shining almost like their own harness, the drag in the newest style of finish, and with every seat full.  A young officer in undress uniform was on the box, and by his side sat Wych Hazel.  There was time for but a look as the drag swept round the turn—­just time to see who it was, and that she wore no bonnet, but instead a sort of Spanish drapery of black lace, and that his horses gave Captain Lancaster so little concern that Miss Kennedy had nearly all his attention,—­then the vision was gone.  Not singing, these two, but the spectators heard her sweet laugh.  Flashing past, followed by another and another though not all of equal style.  The looker-on in the shade of the fir trees just noticed that Kitty Fisher drove the second,—­just caught other familiar voices as they flew by.

There is no doubt but Miss Kennedy’s younger guardian felt there was a hard task upon him that night.  Out of all the glamour and glitter, the brilliance and beauty of such an entertainment, he must be the one to take her, and substitute an ignominious quiet progress home in her own carriage for the fascination and excitement of Captain Lancaster’s driving, and Captain Lancaster’s—­and many others’—­homage.  And, worse yet, the authority which he guessed well enough the little lady rebelled against more than against any other point in the arrangement that had displeased her, must here find in its exercise.  However, well as he knew the bad move it was for his own game, Mr. Rollo was not a man to shirk difficult tasks.  Neither was he so unpractised a hunter as to conclude that any move that must be made, is a bad move.  He knew better.  So, though he looked grave certainly as he walked back to the house, he walked alertly, like a man ready for business.