148 SKETCHES IN THE HUNTING FIELD. 



** It is. It's my gardener's son, though where he 

 learnt to ride like that I can't say," Sir Henry 

 answered. 



But the Master was soon to be more astonished 

 still. 



The hounds checked. They had apparently overrun 

 the scent. Marigold feathered down by the side of a 

 ditch to the right, reluctant to leave, when the second 

 whip drove her on to a holloa in the opposite direction, 

 and presently from the covert where the pack had gone 

 a hound spoke. 



" Marigold was quite right, I'm sure," Bill said to his 

 friend. " Countess has hit off the vixen that lies there." 



Sir Henry overheard the remark. 



"What do you say, my boy?" he asked; and Bill, 

 blushing deeply, replied, as " Hark to Countess ! " 

 resounded from the covert, — 



" I said, sir, that Marigold was right. It's the 

 same fox that was lost last week, and I saw him come 

 out of the ditch when you had gone to draw the Red 

 Down Spinney. There's a vixen lying in that covert, 

 and Countess very likely spoke to that ;" and Bill touched 

 his cap. 



" How do you know it was Countess ? Can you tell the 

 hounds' voices ? What was that ? " Sir Henry asked. 



"That's Sweetheart, I think, sir, — and that's Patience, 

 I'm sure," Bill answered. 



Sir Henry looked round silently at a group of his 

 friends, and in a moment, drawing his horn, said, — 



