46 



THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 



him, he turned sharply aside for a sHghtly lower place, over 

 which he went with a swish. The swerve would inevitably 

 have unseated poor Binkie, but for his tight grip (with his 

 hands) on the saddle. As it was, he found himself still 

 ' there ' as they landed, but minus his hat — brushed off 

 his head by some straggling top-thorns — and his crop, 

 caught by a binder, and dragged forcibly out of his hand. 

 Finding his mouth free, the horse shook his head at the 

 unlooked-for liberty he was enjoying, and then fairly laid 

 himself out to gallop. Before they had crossed two more 

 small fields with straggling and weak hedges, through 

 which he went as if nothing was there, the flying Marmion 

 had overtaken the half-dozen rearmost horses. These he 

 went past, like a shot out of a gun. A somewhat wide 

 interval separated him from the next brigade, and when 

 he reached them, they were toiling over a small ploughed 

 field, down to an open gateway. The Honourable Mrs. 

 Joggletilt was first through this, of the group, but Marmion 

 was close on her track. With a rush like that of an insane 

 steam-engine, he tore past several to whom he should, rightly, 

 have given way, and galloped up against Mrs. Joggletilt with 

 such force that had not that lady been on her enormous weight 

 carrying grey, and she herself almost the ' welter ' of the whole 

 hunt, he must inevitably have sent her head-over-heels. As it 

 was, the impact was so violent, that it knocked her horse out 

 of its stride, and the irate lady half off her saddle. Bcimj a 

 lady, of course there was no blue halo of bad language around 

 her, but if looks could have l^een felt through the shoulder- 

 blades of the offender, Travers Algernon would have fallen, 

 pierced as surely as he could have been with lance or spear. 



