28 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



from the mist and seen me safely home as vou 

 did/ 



'Yes, it was a chase, Nell, was it not? Every 

 s\\ing of my little horse, which did not mean to lose 

 you, and every beat of the drizzling mist against 

 m.y face was as strong wine until I saw the land- 

 mark that m.ade me give that j^elL' 



'And then the dreadful Channel fog, Phil, in which 

 we lost our way and had to trust our horses. The 

 dear old m.oor, how lovely it looks to-day !' 



Here and there we crossed miniature streams that 

 were hurrying downi to do their little part in making 

 the River Barle from which we hoped so much. The 

 long, uphill walks and the lovely drive across the 

 heather-scented downs quite prepared us to do justice 

 to the substantial meal provided for us at the little inn 

 that stands in the centre of Exmoor Forest. We 

 received a waiTn welcome from the forewarned host 

 and hostess, but it was evident that we failed in some 

 respect to fulfil their expectations, for surprise was 

 writ so large we could not but notice it, and, I fear, 

 we blushed in an apologetic sort of way for our short- 

 comings. We were, however, soon at home with them, 

 and our stay at the inn was an event of v/hich they 

 appeared even a little proud. Indeed, the whole 

 village took the liveliest interest in our goings and 

 f:oming5 and were frequently at their doors to see us 

 start upon our journeyings. 



Our hostess was most anxious to aid us in deter- 

 mining the routes to take and would frequently be 

 with us before breakfast was over to say : 'Now, 

 where be going to go to-day, me dears? The pony 

 be in the stable doing nort, and I won't have 'ee 

 coming home too tired to ate.' 



So I was often to be seen driving a conspicuously 

 white, and conspicuously slow, pony, a demure lady 

 by my side, with her hands across each other in her 

 lap, smiling at my vain efforts to keep the darned 



