THE STORM RISING. 157 



not lost a place; let us see if we can keep it/^ 

 Coming to the first fence I did not see tlie couple 

 and a half that had gone off beyond it. " Ware 

 hounds/^ cried I to niy friend : the words were 

 scarce out of my mouth before I saw the old lady 

 streaming away stern down, leading the other 

 couple. " Go along/^ cried I to my friend, mak- 

 ing the same hint do for the grey, to whom, 

 remembering his former propensity to baulk, I 

 gave a refresher as hint conclusive. He took the 

 fence beautifully; the body of the pack, who had 

 regularly raced along a headland, taking tlie same 

 fence in their swing. 



" Yoik forward, good lads ! '' screeches Will, 

 driving Claret through a bullfinch to the left of 

 his hounds, to avoid being too close on them. 



'' Keep to the right," cried I to my companion, 

 " or you^ll be among them if they turn.-'^ Reach- 

 ing the second fence, the leading hound threw up 

 for a moment, then hit it off, and went away like 

 a rocket. 



" All right," said I, " he is off for Redlands ; 

 we shall have a taste of the brook presently." 

 The short turn the hounds had made let all the 

 field up. We were now going a clipper down hill 

 to the meadows, the brook before us; in went 

 old Termagant, still leading. 



" Over he is," cried Will, " close to my side." 

 The clergyman I had mentioned had, as usual. 



