CONTRASTS. 569 



issued next moment with their huntsman into outer darkness. 

 A few shadowy horsemen were standing or galloping along the 

 brow. These signalled Forward, and Forward plunged Goodall, 

 horn to mouth and blowing lustily, while plunging headlong 

 down the steep slope towards Fawsley House the rabbit-holes 

 underfoot about the only things visible. At the laurels a shep- 

 herd shouted Forward still, and round the garden and shrubbery 

 we pressed blindly on, depending, for hope, only upon our sense 

 of hearing and our intimate acquaintance with this well -ordered 

 and well-gated estate. To the huntsman we all clung with 

 child-like trust leaving him only momentarily in order to 

 skirmish off to some high point and strain our ears to the 

 irresponsive mist. A dead, dark silence the gloom of a ghostly 

 shroud was over the land, and enveloped and choked us in its 

 chilly folds. One skirmisher caught the tinkle of hound-voices 

 towards Hogstaff, and to the little wood we rode onward there 

 to find Mr. Goodman, his pony stopped by the pace, and with 

 news that some rive couple had gone on with John and Mr. 

 Barrett not far behind them. 



To the Woodford lane, then, we scampered and there, by 

 good luck, the perturbed and anxious huntsman came up with 

 his hounds after a dart in the dark of between two and three 

 miles. Their heads were up; and, beyond taking a line into 

 Ganderton Wood, they could do no more. Then we progressed 

 from a state of hot fear to one of freezing misery. Gradually 

 wu cooled down as we sauntered. Gradually it occurred to us 

 to turn up our coat-collars, gradually to seek under our saddle- 

 flaps for the woollen gloves which might or might not be in 

 ordered place, and gradually we appealed to flask and cigar. 

 It was no use. The icy fog was not to be denied, and it pene- 

 trated through every waistcoat and every layer of Jaeger, 

 blanched the face, and laid its cold fingers on one's very vitals. 

 And, besides, it caught us unawares. The warmth of the past 

 fortnight had set us singing the songs of summer. Now in 

 the sudden bitterness we were winter Cigales half clad and 

 wholly unfitted to meet it. The situation had no comical 



