James's Park. His mind, attuned to the alarums and
excursions of the afternoon, became dimly aware that some
excitement of a detached nature was going on around him. In spite
of the political ferment which reigned in the streets, quite a
large crowd had gathered to watch the unfolding of a tragedy that
had taken place on the shore of the ornamental water. A large
black swan, which had recently shown signs of a savage and
dangerous disposition, had suddenly attacked a young gentleman who
was walking by the water's edge, dragged him down under the
surface, and drowned him before anyone could come to his
assistance. At the moment when Belturbet arrived on the spot
several park-keepers were engaged in lifting the corpse into a
punt. Belturbet stooped to pick up a hat that lay near the scene
of the struggle. It was a smart soft felt hat, faintly
reminiscent of Houbigant.
More than a month elapsed before Belturbet had sufficiently
recovered from his attack of nervous prostration to take an
interest once more in what was going on in the world of politics.
The Parliamentary Session was still in full swing, and a General
Election was looming in the near future.
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