THE SILVER FOX 167 



jumped across an ugly cleft among the 

 bushes. The hounds were all about her 

 again, but they were silent now, and were 

 hunting to and fro among the hazel-bushes, 

 and leaping backwards and forwards over 

 rifts in the ground similar to that which 

 Maria had just crossed. Before her was the 

 high bank, showing above a long strip of 

 hazel scrub; she thrust herself, breathless, 

 in among the thick and sturdy growth, her 

 eyes dilated with apprehension, her red hair 

 falling loose in the wind. A cry for help 

 arose at her step, scarcely three yards away ; 

 she broke her way to it through the crush 

 of young branches, and saw, as if coming 

 up out of the ground, two gloved hands, 

 clutching all they could hold of twigs and 

 saplings, that bent lithely with the weight 

 that hung from them. 



Lady Susan was hanging over the verge 

 of a deep and wide cleft, masked on one 

 side by hazels and briars; her face looked 

 up, deeply flushed, and distorted from the 

 whirl of the terrible moments that make a 



