THE SILVER FOX 68 



out of the open door, barking his shrill 

 vulgar bark, and sniffing the breeze. He 

 was hardly quicker than his master. Before 

 Maria had time to put down the teapot, 

 Quin was outside, listening and staring, and 

 cursing the dog into silence. He saw two 

 red-coated horsemen trotting round the end 

 of the wood, and the note of the horn came 

 again, smooth and melodious. Quin started 

 at a run in the direction of the covert, 

 drawing hard, sobbing breaths as he ran. 



On the road at the other side of the 

 covert, Slaney was sitting on Isabella, the 

 elderly brown mare, and wishing that she 

 had stayed at home. To sit on Isabella's 

 back was an experience almost distinct from 

 riding; it suggested more than anything 

 else a school-room sofa propelled into action 

 by a sour and sluggish sense of the inevit- 

 able, a school-room sofa that partook of the 

 nature of the governess. Slaney's sharply- 

 cut face was pale and sleepless-looking ; she 

 was no longer the ethereal creature of the 

 firelight and moonlight, merely an ill- 



