“What is exciting him?” asked his mistress, as the dog suddenly broke into short angry barks, with a running accompaniment of tremulous whines.

“Why,” she continued, “it’s your game-bag, Vladimir! What have you got in it?”

“By Gad,” said the Major, who was now standing up; “there’s a pretty warm scent!”

And then a simultaneous idea flashed on himself and Mrs. Hoopington. Their faces flushed to distinct but harmonious tones of purple, and with one accusing voice they screamed, “You’ve shot the fox!”