The other, too, I covered, but when I touched the trigger there was a click, no more.
This was my opportunity of coming even with Charles, and I availed myself of it.
"Young man," I said, while he gaped at me open-mouthed, "you should learn to be careful with rifles, which are dangerous weapons.

If you give one to a shooter that is not loaded, it shows that you are capable of anything." Then I turned, and addressing Lord Ragnall, added: "I must apologize for that third shot of mine, which was infamous, for I committed a similar fault to that against which I warned you, sir, and did not fire far enough ahead.

However, it may serve to show your attendant the difference between the tail of a pigeon and an oak leaf," and I pointed to one of the feathers of the poor bird, which was still drifting to the ground.
"Well, if this here snipe of a chap ain't the devil in boots!" exclaimed Charles to himself.
But his master cut him short with a look, then lifted his hat to me and said: "Sir, the practice much surpasses the precept, which is unusual.

I congratulate you upon a skill that almost partakes of the marvellous, unless, indeed, chance----" And he stopped.
"It is natural that you should think so," I replied; "but if more pigeons come, and Mr.Charles will make sure that he loads the rifle, I hope to undeceive you." At this moment, however, a loud shout from Scroope, who was looking for me, reinforced by a shrill cry uttered by Miss Manners, banished every pigeon within half a mile, a fact of which I was not sorry, since who knows whether I should have it all, or any, of the next three birds?
"I think my friends are calling me, so I will bid you good morning," I said awkwardly.
"One moment, sir," he exclaimed.

"Might I first ask you your name?
Mine is Ragnall--Lord Ragnall." "And mine is Allan Quatermain," I said.
"Oh!" he answered, "that explains matters.