In appearance he was a very fine man, big-shouldered and broad
limbed, and his age might have been thirty-five or a little more. Of his
frame, however, what between the mist and the unpleasantly damp seaweed
with which he was wreathed, not much was to be seen. But such light as
there was fell upon his face as he peered eagerly over and round the
rock, and glinted down the barrels of the double ten-bore gun which he
held across his knee. It was a striking countenance, with its brownish
eyes, dark peaked beard and strong features, very powerful and very
able. And yet there was a certain softness in the face, which hovered
round the region of the mouth like light at the edge of a dark cloud,
hinting at gentle sunshine. But little of this was visible now. Geoffrey
Bingham, barrister-at-law of the Inner Temple, M.A., was engaged with
a very serious occupation. He was trying to shoot curlew as they passed
over his hiding-place on their way to the mud banks where they feed
further along the coast.
Now if there is a thing in the world which calls for the exercise of
man's every faculty it is curlew shooting in a mist.
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