THE TURNCOAT 295 



upon which he had recently sat must have been 

 an ant-heap, and the knowledge that hundreds 

 of industrious lepidoptera were gradually mak- 

 ing their way up his legs was naturally discon- 

 certing. Being, however, the sole occupant of 

 the carriage, Uncle Theodore wisely decided to 

 rid himself of this plague of insects in the most 

 sensible fashion possible. He lost no time, 

 therefore, in divesting himself of his coat and 

 trousers, and proceeded to shake the latter gar- 

 ments vigorously out of the window with a view 

 to removing the offending ants. At this 

 moment, however, a sudden gust of wind hap- 

 pened to carry a red-hot spark from the engine 

 into my uncle's right eye, and so severe was the 

 agony caused by this accident that Sir Theodore 

 instinctively clapped both hands to the injured 

 optic, and in doing so let go of his trousers. 

 These at once flew out of the window and fell 

 in a field by the side of the line, considerably 

 startling a group of pheasants which were 

 engaged in busily devouring a fine crop of 

 mangolds. 



When the pain had somewhat abated and he 

 had resumed his coat. Uncle Theodore was able 

 to realize the full horror of his position. In his 

 semi-nude condition he determined at all costs 

 to prevent the intrusion of any possible fellow- 

 travellers when the train stopped at Vauxhall, 



