“I can only venture to guess,” said Edmund, “it must have followed us, by perching on the barouche just now. Or possibly it took a ride during another one of the trips between our households—

“Is it possible it flew?” said Julia.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, does it matter?” hissed Mrs. Norris, beginning to make urgent yelping noises.

Miss Crawford meanwhile continued to beat off the attacking duck that had relentlessly chosen her for its target, and was flying around in circles, dive-bombing her.

“My dear! Oh!” exclaimed Mrs. Rushworth at last, putting a hand to her heart. “Upon my word, would someone please assist Miss Crawford in her struggle? Get this foul creature out of here! Immediately! This is, after all, designed to be a House of God—James, do something!”

Mr. Rushworth, taking control of the situation indeed, in particular to show his masterly nature to his bride-to-be, took up a cane and used it to swat wildly in the direction of the flying duck—but, to little effect, it must be admitted. He was holding himself back—his wolfish growls and the hunter instinct—altogether too much to be of any use as a civilized defender and combatant.

The Brighton Duck meanwhile gave a series of terrifying loud honks, the sound of which echoed and resounded through the stillness of the chapel. And then, making another final pass at Miss Crawford, it rose higher, circling, and then, faster than a swallow, it betook itself out the open door and out of the chapel.

It was gone without a sound.

There were several long moments of stunned silence.

Then, everyone let out a sigh of relief.

“My dear Miss Crawford!” said Edmund at last, still stupefied from the indescribable occurrence. “Are you unhurt, I pray?”

Miss Crawford calmly shook off the front of her dress, and plucked a loose duck feather from her sleeve, then cleared her throat. Then, with a little smirk, she replied. “Yes, I do believe I am perfectly well and rather undisturbed, all things considered. Well! that was a lovely interlude. By Jove! The things one sees out in the country!” And turning to Mrs. Rushworth, she said, “My very dear Mrs. Rushworth, I beg all pardons for this outrageous silliness; but please, do go on with your story.”

“Well, if you are certain you are well, my dear,” said Mrs. Rushworth. Then, clearing her throat, she resumed her lecture. “As I was saying, this fine chapel was fitted up as you all see it now, in James the Second’s time. Before that period, the pews were only wainscot. And there is reason to think that the linings and cushions of the pulpit and family seat were only purple cloth—”

“And yet, I wonder why the duck chose Miss Crawford?” Fanny could not rest her curiosity, and whispered to Edmund, while Mrs. Rushworth was speaking. “Why chuse her, and only her, of all of us here present—”