‘I must say,’ said Bob Lilburn strolling towards them. ‘That last drive was superb.’

Sir Randolph pointed at Glass, as if accusingly.

‘There’s the man you should congratulate.’

‘I certainly do. Superb.’

‘Thank you, m’lord. It’s a lovely lie of the land, that.’

‘Superb. Famous. Justly famous.’

‘This next one’s often quite lively if we’re lucky,’ said Sir Randolph. ‘I thought we might just wander over afterwards and take the duck if it would amuse you.’

‘Rather. What a day you’re giving us.’

Glass had already hurried over to marshal his men for the final drive. The guns were to stand in the water meadow outside the last plantation, where clumps of privet, holly and low spruce had been planted in groups beneath the taller trees to form natural corners into which the pheasants would run and from which they could gradually be flushed so as to be presented to the guns in succession.

‘Now I want everyone to stop short of the last corner. I’ll blow my whistle and Walter here will repeat it from the centre of the line. Four of us will go forward twenty or thirty yards to flush out the first batch. Everyone stands still when we stand still. Then you move forward, taking your cue from Walter and Tom. Then we do the same again three or four times till we get to the end. Everyone clear?’

Everyone was clear; most them had done it many times before. On most of their faces Glass could see a reflection of his own mood. They knew it had been a good day and the end of it was in sight; the evening’s relaxation would have been earned. Everyone liked being a part, however small, of a success. He saw Dan grinning at him, aware of the sense of occasion. What better life for a boy, Glass thought; or for a man, when he grew to be a man? What was the point of taking him away from that, away from where he belonged, stuffing his head with needless facts, shutting him up in some laboratory somewhere? This was where he belonged, in these woods, within these few miles of ground, every inch of which was his known territory. Why move away? The foxes didn’t move, the badgers didn’t; the rabbits, squirrels, deer, owls, all of them, whether friend or foe in the professional sense, they stayed where they belonged. Dan should do the same. It was right and proper; the other was unnatural.

‘Dan, you can go for stop this time, see the sport. On the outside, and mind you don’t let anything through, not a single one. We’re beating our best record today, we’ve got to keep it up. Right?’

Minnie and Ida walked side by side briskly along the river bank, substantial hats at sensible angles, capacious tweed skirts sweeping the muddy path, towards the scattered groups of people talking idly under the trees. The beaters had just moved off, the rest of the party was about to walk along to the water meadow for the last drive. Aline was the first to see them; she gave a short cry like a green parakeet.