96 THE MASTER OF THE HOUNDS. 



now hove in sight, looking unutterably disgusted ; in fact, his 

 whole frame had received so great a shock from his heavy fall 

 on the hard road, that, although no bones were broken, he was 

 fearfully bruised about his head, ribs, and right arm, which was 

 nearly paralysed. Giving his horse to the groom, with sundry 

 anathemas for his want of condition, the great man walked on 

 to the lawn, where he stood for a few moments talking with 

 Mrs. Compton, and then retired to his own room for the luxury 

 of a warm bath. 



The fox was now thrown to the hounds, as the heavy 

 weights, including Sir Lionel, Squire Beauchamp, and others, 

 with whom Vernon had been in company, arrived on the scene, 

 and many and hearty were the congratulations on their capital 

 day's sport. 



"Ah, Compton !" exclaimed Conyers, "we have always luck 

 on our side, when we meet at your place — no bagmen or three- 

 legged ones here ; and now for a glass of sherry to drink your 

 health and a merry Christmas to all your family, with fifty new 

 years to come, and may they find you still living as heretofore 

 — the friend of fox-hunters." 



"And a right hearty welcome to you all," replied Mr. 

 Compton, who led the way into the house, followed by a goodly 

 company of pink jackets, who gladly availed themselves of his 

 proffered hospitality. Markham whispered Gwynne, "A hollow 

 thing, eh ? No mistake about first man." 



" None whatever — Yernon must pay." 



" All right, old fellow — tell him what you say." 



The losing man did not relish the Captain's hint; but 

 knowing his good nature, put him off by saying they would 

 settle that another day. 



" Play and pay, Vernon, is the rule on such occasions," said 

 Markham ; " so you must fork out ; had I lost, you would have 

 made me pay quickly enough." 



" Oh, very well, I'll send you a draft to-morrow or next 

 day," with which he turned aside. 



On their way home, a comparison was instituted by Sir 

 Francis and Conyers, between the riding of the two rival 

 masters of fox-hounds, Rushton and Will Beauchamp. 



" In Leicestershire," remarked Burnett, " I think Beau- 

 champ would give way to the great squire." 



"I don't think he would," retorted Conyers; "for this 

 reason : Will rides with equal science and superior judgment to 

 the other ; he is always with his hounds, in and out of covert, 



