How Barnabas Found his Manhood

"Oh--hif you please, sir!"

Barnabas started, and looking about, presently espied a figure in
the shadow of the osiers; a very small figure, upon whose diminutive
jacket were numerous buttons that glittered under the moon.

"Why--it's Milo of Crotona!" said Cleone.

"Yes, my lady--hif you please, it are," answered Milo of Crotona,
touching the peak of his leather cap.

"But--what are you doing here? How did you know where to find us?"

"'Cause as I came up the drive, m'lady, I jest 'appened to see you
a-walking together,--so I followed you, I did, m'lady."

"Followed us?" repeated Cleone rather faintly. "Oh!"

"And then--when I seen you slip, m'lady, I thought as 'ow I'd
better--wait a bit. So I waited, I did." And here, again, Milo
of Crotona touched the peak of his cap, and looked from Barnabas
to Cleone's flushing loveliness with eyes wide and profoundly
innocent,--a very cherub in top-boots, only his buttons (Ah, his
buttons!) seemed to leer and wink one to another, as much as to say:
"Oh yes! Of course! to--be--sure?"

"And what brings you so far from London?" inquired Barnabas, rather
hurriedly.

"Coach, sir,--box seat, sir!"

"And you brought your master with you, of course,--is the Viscount
here?"

"No, m'lady. I 'ad to leave 'im be'ind 'count of 'im being unfit to
travel--"

"Is he ill?"

"Oh, no, not hill, m'lady,--only shot, 'e is."

"Shot!" exclaimed Barnabas, "how--where?"

"In the harm, sir,--all on 'count of 'is 'oss,--'Moonraker' sir."