The last time we met there had been a stormy scene between us, which ended in my declaring in my wrath that if I came across him on the veld I should shoot him at sight.  Perhaps that was one of the reasons why Mr. van Koop vanished from South Africa, for I may add that he was a cur of the first water.  I believe that he had only just entered the room, having driven over from wherever he lived at some distance from Ragnall.  At any rate, he knew nothing of my presence at this shoot.  Had he known I am quite sure that he would have been absent.  He turned, and seeing me, ejaculated:  “Allan Quatermain, by heaven!” beneath his breath, but in such a tone of astonishment that it attracted the attention of Lord Ragnall, who was standing near.

“Yes, Mr. van Koop,” I answered in a cheerful voice, “Allan Quatermain, no other, and I hope you are as glad to see me as I am to see you.”

“I think there is some mistake,” said Lord Ragnall, staring at us.  “This is Sir Junius Fortescue, who used to be Mr. Fortescue.”

“Indeed,” I replied.  “I don’t know that I ever remember his being called by that particular name, but I do know that we are old—­friends.”

Lord Ragnall moved away as though he did not wish to continue the conversation, which no one else had overheard, and Van Koop sidled up to me.

“Mr. Quatermain,” he said in a low voice, “circumstances have changed with me since last we met.”

“So I gather,” I replied; “but mine have remained much the same, and if it is convenient to you to repay me that L250 you owe me, with interest, I shall be much obliged.  If not, I think I have a good story to tell about you.”

“Oh, Mr. Quatermain,” he answered with a sort of smile which made me feel inclined to kick him, “you know I dispute that debt.”

“Do you?” I exclaimed.  “Well, perhaps you will dispute the story also.  But the question is, will you be believed when I give the proofs?”

“Ever heard of the Statute of Limitations, Mr. Quatermain?” he asked with a sneer.

“Not where character is concerned,” I replied stoutly.  “Now, what are you going to do?”

He reflected for a moment, and answered: 

“Look here, Mr. Quatermain, you were always a bit of a sportsman, and I’ll make you an offer.  If I kill more birds than you do to-day, you shall promise to hold your tongue about my affairs in South Africa; and if you kill more than I do, you shall still hold your tongue, but I will pay you that L250 and interest for six years.”

I also reflected for a moment, knowing that the man had something up his sleeve.  Of course, I could refuse and make a scandal.  But that was not in my line, and would not bring me nearer my L250, which, if I chanced to win, might find its way back to me.

“All right, done!” I said.

“What is your bet, Sir Junius?” asked Lord Ragnall, who was approaching again.

“It is rather a long story,” he answered, “but, to put it shortly, years ago, when I was travelling in Africa, Mr. Quatermain and I had a dispute as to a sum of L5 which he thought I owed him, and to save argument about a trifle we have agreed that I should shoot against him for it to-day.”