152 The Wrong Man 



raagnificent fellow. Short on the leg, deep m the flank, 

 a rich brown colour, with a well-developed black streak 

 along his back, and spreading, sharp-tipped horns of 

 extraordinary length, span and beam ; and of course 

 walking very slowly away as he feeds, with his hind- 

 quarters persistently and directly towards his enemies. 

 There is nothing for it but to be patient. Why does not 

 the noble beast turn round and give a chance ? Ah ! that's 

 it ! A tempting mouthful to the left attracts the stag ; 

 he turns ; Hugh cocks his rifle, which is resting in 

 position on the deep moss which covers the stone, takes 

 steady aim behind the shoulder just half-way up the body, 

 and pulls the trigger. The stag starts, gallops forward 

 for a hundred yards, and rolls over dead. 



Alister was as pleased as Hugh, whose joke had 

 acquired its necessary point by the death of the stag : 

 and they steadied their nerves with a pull at our friend's 

 flask. The stalker had a strong idea where other stags 

 were to be found, and he was right. We need not follow 

 them through the day, which had its disappointment, 

 for the best beast they saw, in spite of all their care, was 

 started off at a gallop just when, after a long and weary 

 round, they had got well within range, and had decided 

 that he was theirs — how alarmed neither could guess ; 

 but in two other cases patience and perseverance were 

 rewarded. Three magnificent stags fell to Hugh's rifle 

 before he set off homewards. 



Meantime, at the house, Mr. Higgs had been potter- 

 ing about in rather a perturbed frame of mind. He had 

 received a letter from Whittington which put him out a 

 good deal. His correspondent wrote to accept an invita- 

 tion to Corriecuisk, but the passage which annoyed Mr. 

 Higgs was the following : — 



