To return home without his game, was a misfortune, which under ordinary
circumstances he could have endured; but on this occasion he had reason
to expect a more than usually severe lecture from his wife whose command
he had stubbornly disobeyed by not awakening Gottlieb. While the
unfortunate sportsman was bewailing his fate he discovered the face of
his "butler," who was peering out from between the bushes with an
expression of mingled humility and mirthfulness.
"Where are my partridges, you rascal?" shouted Mr. Fabian, his face
glowing with anger.
"Do you think, Mr. H----, that I have taken them?"
"Such a jest would be but natural. What are you doing here? Have I not
paid you enough?"
"I never do anything without orders, and if you do not wish me to
remain, I will go instantly. I thought, however, that you would be
pleased if I should tell you what had become of your game."
"That is just what I wish to know! Has any one presumed to steal it?"
"Very likely."
"Who? Quick! Tell me!"
But the butler answered only with a long drawn.
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