A FIRST RAINY DAY. 527 



of the ground was enough excuse ; and after a first few 

 casualties they actually fell back from the hill they had essayed 

 to breast, and returned to the wood, for a safer road round. 

 But they had sustained a shock that autumn systems had not 

 the vigour to bear. Even as the fall of Harold scattered their 

 forefathers, so turned they and fled when disaster overtook 

 their leader. He was a veteran of discretion, but was cruelly 

 used by fate. Tragedy on occasion will merge into comedy. 

 In this instance it fairly, and happily, gave way to it altogether. 

 Harold found a breach in a blackthorn wall ; and, having found 

 it, had a perfect right to do as he chose with it ; he accordingly 

 climbed the breach on foot, while leading his charger after him 

 and while an anxious band of followers awaited their turn and 

 the completion of his daring feat. 



Harold is not a big man, if a great one. He all but gained 

 the top of the breach — when a treacherous abatti tripped him 

 up, and forward he plunged into the ditch beyond. No thought 

 had he for further glory ; no care for the brave band he 

 captained ; no wish for the trustful charger hovering over his 

 ready-made grave, save that the beast would not try to occupy 

 it with him. But Harold was held by the heels. Both spurs 

 were tangled in the reins ; the bay charger snorted with alarm, 

 raised its head in terror ; and Harold was set in the position of 

 one of Dore"s fallen angels being cast down from Heaven. 

 What his feelings were could only be guessed from the frantic 

 play of his little legs in mid-air. They twiddled and shook 

 with dazzling rapidity in their efforts to speak or their longing 

 to be free. Surely such a topsy-turvy hornpipe never was 

 figured before, certainly never one that called forth such 

 rapturous applause. Great is Diana — but she was not in it 

 with Terpsichore. The chase went on, but was clean forgot in 

 shrieks of approving laughter till Harold's heels slipped out of 

 their fastening, or the bay charger grew tired of fishing him, 

 and breathless and blue-in-the-face bold Harold clambered 

 back to his friends. Hounds meanwhile had nearly reached 

 Everdon, the village in the next valley. Had we seen them no 



