I will get you a sight of his lordship and all the blue-blooded aristocrats below."
He led the way, and was followed at a run to the glass door opening upon the steps that descended to the terrace: the rush was so sudden that the butler had not time or thought to interpose.
"Hark!" called the lawyer's clerk. "By George, if the band ain't doing us the compliment by anticipation of striking up 'See the conquering hero comes!' which means us—the British public. Lend a shove, Tommy, and we'll be down among them and have some ices and sherry cobbler too, and take a squint at the noble lord himself."
A united thrust against the double glass doors drove them apart, and down the steps, and out upon the terrace poured the Public.
At that same moment the iron gates were swung apart, and another party entered through them—not of the sight-seers, but villagers in their working clothes and shirt-sleeves.
"See-e-e the conquer-ing her-er-er-er-er-o comes,
Sou-ou-ound the trum-pets,
Be-e-eat the drums."
The conductor of the band looked round, and what he saw made him hold up his staff. The music instantly ceased.
Also, simultaneously, all talking among the guests ceased.
Also, instantaneously, the sight-seers who had been jostling one another, and laughing loudly, and egging one another on, and were pouring down the steps, halted and ceased to be heard.
Nothing, indeed, was heard but the toll of the distant bell, and the crunch of the gravel under the feet of the advancing party of villagers.
The fish of the three ponds had mixed for once, and were silent in the presence of the all-conquering hero to whom all submit—Death.
