THE NEXT DRAW» 43 



" Yes, sir, we have had enough of that fun, and now you 

 shall have something in ours ; when, putting his fingers to his 

 ear, he sent forth a scream, which nearly unhorsed the thistle 

 wliipper. 



" Gone away ! " screamed Charley again. 



" Where ? where % " exclaimed Newman Butler, " I don't 

 see him." 



" But I did, sir, and hope never to see him again until he is 

 brought to hand ; now for the cobbler's wax, sir," as the hounds 

 came tearing out of covert, and settled down to the scent. " Give 

 Foreman his head, sir, and come along ; we've got them all to 

 ourselves." Saying which he cleared the first fence, with a 

 yawning ditch on the other side." 



" All right, sir j come along ! " cried Charley, as looking 

 back he saw Foreman blundering on his nose, with his master 

 clinging round his neck. " Pick him up, sir, and put more 

 powder in next time." 



For five-and-twenty minutes Charley had it all his own 

 way ; and so great was the pace, that the hounds ran into their 

 fox before he could reach the next covert. Sir Francis, with 

 his arm in a sling, rode furiously throughout this quick burst, 

 and was one of the first up with Will Beauchamp, Sir Lucius, 

 and Tyler. 



" Pretty thing, indeed ! " exclaimed the baronet. " Well 

 done, Charley." 



" Not much for me to do. Sir Francis," replied Charles, 

 touching his cap, " except going as straight and fast as I ever 

 rode in my life." 



"Just treat us to another of the same sort; and here, 

 Charley " — putting a sovereign into his hand — " I'll double it if 

 you do." 



Will Beauchamp waited until Sir Lionel and his father came 

 up, when the fox was thrown to the hounds, and a discussion 

 took place as to the next draw. " There is a bit of n?".e lying 

 in the gorse on Brendon Down, sir," suggested Charley to his 

 master ; "just suit the ladies and Sir Francis." 



"And so it wiU, Charley." 



"Well, William," inquired Sir Lionel, "where now?" 



" Brendon Gorse holds a fox, I think, sir ; a gallop over the 

 open will suit the ladies better than tearing through these 

 blackthorn fences." 



"Bravo !" exclaimed Selina Markham ; "who says you are 

 not a ladies' man. Will Beauchamp ? I am tattered and tora. 



