A DISTINGUISHED STR ANGER. 79 



a cry of delight, and are fast overhauling their sinking 

 quarry. 



Witchcraft and Strivewell get a view, and then Abigail 

 and Stylish are straining ever}^ nerve for first grip, and they 

 roll him over not two hundred yards from the sanctuary 

 he was striving for. 



"Who — whoop ! " cries the stranger, leaping from his horse 

 to save the tattered mass of fur from complete destruction, 

 and Mason comes up to find him with the remains of poor 

 Keynard lying in front of him, and the pack baying around. 



" Is it really you, sir ? " asks the whip eagerly. 



" Hush ! Don't say a word yet," replies the other, " but 

 let's get this old fellow broken up first." 



In a few minutes Lord Healingborough and his sister 

 came galloping up, with Mr. Beverley hurrying in the 

 rear. Gracefully raising his hat, the stranger approaches 

 Lady Winifred and tenders her the brush. 



" May I ask Lady Winifred Hainton to accept this 

 souvenir of a good gallop ? " he asks. 



" You, Mr. Beverley ! " she exclaims. " It's not you ! " 



"Yes, Lady Winifred, it is I. You see, I happened 

 to remember when I landed in England yesterday that 

 this was the opening day with the dear old pack, so I 

 could not resist the temptation of a gallop. Capital run, 

 was it not? A ten-mile point from Rapsley, and quite 

 two more if you started from Tom-tit wood. But I forgot 

 to take the time: fancy an old M.F.H. forgetting to do 

 that ! George Fowls lent me old Midnight." 



" Tom, you dear old fellow ! " exclaims Lord Healing- 

 borough. 



" Charlie," says the other, as he grips the outstretched 

 palm. Then, turning away, he takes the tattered remains 

 from Mason, and amid the chorus of " Who-woops ! " com- 

 pletes the obsequies of a real good fox. 



