It was at this precise juncture that his eye encountered me, and, pausing only to recover his unfortunate headgear, he strode toward where I sat.
"Do you know anything about this?" he inquired in a somewhat aggressive manner, holding up a length of black thread.
"A piece of ordinary pack-thread," I answered, affecting to examine it with a critical eye.
"Do you know anything about it?" he said again, evidently in a very bad temper.
"Sir," I broke in, "you'll excuse me, but that seems a very remarkable hat of yours."
"Of course," I went on, "each to his taste, but personally I prefer one with less 'gymnastic' and more 'stay-at-home' qualities."
The hunting-crop was raised threateningly.
"Mr. Selwyn?" I inquired in a conversational tone.
The hunting-crop hesitated and was lowered.
"Ah, I thought so," I said, bowing; "permit me to trespass upon your generosity to the extent of a match--or, say, a couple."
Mr. Selwyn remained staring down at me for a moment, and I saw the points of his moustache positively curling with indignation. Then, without deigning a reply, he turned on his heel and strode away. He had not gone more than thirty or forty paces, however, when I heard him stop and mutter savagely--I did not need to look to learn the reason--I admit I chuckled. But my merriment was short-lived, for a moment later came the feeble squeak of a horn followed by a shout and the Imp's voice upraised in dire distress.
"Little-John! Little-John! to the rescue!" it called.
I hesitated, for I will freely confess that when I had made that promise to the Imp it was with small expectation that I should be called upon to fulfil it. Still, a promise is a promise; so I sighed, and picking up the joint of my fishing-rod, clambered up the bank. Glancing in the direction of the cries, I beheld Robin Hood struggling in the foe's indignant grasp.
Now, there were but two methods of procedure open to me as I could see--the serious or the frankly grotesque. Naturally I chose the latter, and, quarter-staff on shoulder, I swaggered down the path with an air that Little-John himself might well have envied.
"Beshrew me!" I cried, confronting the amazed Mr. Selwyn. "Who dares lay hands on bold Robin Hood? Away, base rogue, hie thee hence, or I am like to fetch thee a dour ding on that pate o' thine!"