"A good phrase," said Fisher, "and so it would be if you were silly enough to drink wine in it.
Fisher's weary eye wandered round the dusty and dreary inn parlor and rested dreamily on a glass case containing a stuffed bird, with a gun hung on hooks above it, which seemed to be its only ornament.
no," repeated Fisher, almost mechanically; and then suddenly cocked his eye at his interlocutor with a much livelier expression.
"So you're stopping at Jink's, too," said Fisher. "Everybody seems to be at Jink's."
Fisher said, rather vaguely, that he was following soon, when he had fixed something up; and the Chancellor of the Exchequer left the inn.
"The place where the poor fellow was killed," said Fisher, sadly.
"No, he wasn't," replied Fisher. "He didn't fall on the rocks at all.
"He was a first-class shot," said Fisher. He had turned his back abruptly and was walking down a narrow, grassy lane, little more than a cart track, which lay opposite the inn and marked the end of the great estate and the beginning of the open moors.
"Are you a first-class criminal?" asked Fisher, in a friendly tone.
Fisher knew that lonely look of the outlying parts of a great house well enough.
Fisher, who was peering more closely at the target, startled him by an exclamation.
"In the wildest way," repeated Fisher, still peering intently at the target.