Nothing is so tedious as an archery competition. They shot, and they shot, and
they kept on shooting, till the sun left the valley, and little breezes got up
in the deodars, and people waited for Miss Beighton to shoot and win. Cubbon
was at one horn of the semicircle round the shooters, and Barr-Saggott at the
other. Miss Beighton was last on the list. The scoring had been weak, and the
bracelet, PLUS Commissioner Barr-Saggott, was hers to a certainty.
The Commissioner strung her bow with his own sacred hands. She stepped
forward, looked at the bracelet, and her first arrow went true to a hair--full
into the heart of the "gold"--counting nine points.
Young Cubbon on the left turned white, and his Devil prompted Barr-Saggott to
smile. Now horses used to shy when Barr-Saggott smiled.
Kitty saw that smile. She looked to her left-front, gave an almost
imperceptible nod to Cubbon, and went on shooting.
I wish I could describe the scene that followed. It was out of the ordinary
and most improper. Miss Kitty fitted her arrows with immense deliberation, so
that every one might see what she was doing. She was a perfect shot; and her
46-pound bow suited her to a nicety. She pinned the wooden legs of the target
with great care four successive times.
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