THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 225 



pace had now become a veritable 'cracker,' and the cocktail 

 contingent were dropping rapidly astern. 



Down the hill towards the brook, Ronald took another look 

 round to see who was nearest him. Truth to tell, Dennison 

 was not quite confident in his own mind about how his horse 

 would tackle the water. It was not so much the obstacle 

 itself, as the noisy crowd around it, that he feared Marmion 

 might not like ; and if he made any mistake at it, his rider 

 had a natural and not ill-founded objection to being jumped 

 on by the man behind him. He was somewhat reassured 

 when he found that it was Jack Dashwood — who he knew 

 to be a really good horseman. 



"Look out for yourself, here, Dashwood!" he called out 

 over his shoulder, and shouting in order to drown the noise 

 of the thunder of the hoofs, and cries of the excited spectators. 

 " I may come down at this ! " 



" Hope you will ! " muttered Jack to himself, taking a 

 judicious pull at his horse. " Believe I can do the rest of 'em, 

 but I don't like the look of you ! " Directly Marmion catches 

 sight of the gleaming water of the brook, and has his ears 

 saluted by the deafening shouts of the crowd, he begins to ' go 

 in the breeching,' screwing himself spirally, and, vulgarly 

 speaking, trying to 'cut it.' Ronny sits still as a mouse, 

 not moving hand or foot ; then, just as they race down 

 between the two living lines of shrieking humanity, the wicked 

 impulse seems to pass from the horse ; he catches hold of his 

 bit again and, springing into the air, clears the obstacle in 

 magnificent fashion, amid a chorus of ringing cheers. 



Ronny flushes a deep red of gratified pleasure, as he stoops 

 forward and pats the now foam-flecked neck. Jack follows 



H.H. Q 



