252 SKETCHES IN THE HUNTING FIELD. 



reflective influence of a cigar assured me that I was 

 in for a " real bad thing." 



Next morning I was off" at daybreak, and should have 

 reached town before nine, but by one of those unlucky 

 flukes which had been pursuing me for the week we 

 suddenly pulled up at a lonely spot between two 

 stations ; something had gone off the line, or happened 

 to a luggage-train before us, and for rather more than an 

 hour we were delayed. The blessings showered on 

 directors, engine-drivers, guards, pointsmen, navvies, 

 engineers, &c., need not be repeated. Instead of arriv- 

 ing at a quarter to nine, it was twenty minutes past ten 

 before Euston was reached, and twenty to eleven before 

 I was at the door of Leonard's rooms on my hopeless 

 errand. The special had started from Paddington at 

 10.15, ^^^ I ^^.d hoped to catch Leonard in good time 

 for ten minutes' chat before he was off"; now there was 

 nothing for it but to drive to Victoria Street and see 

 what had happened. 



" j\Ir. Leonard has gone, I suppose ? " I ask his 

 man. 



" Did not come home at all last night, sir. Went 

 straight on, I presume, to Gloucester, sir. Races is on 

 to-day." 



" Yes, so I believe," I mildly answer. " Is there a 

 telegram waiting for him r " 



" Yes, sir. Came yesterday about half-past five. He 

 wasn't here to receive it," he tells me ; and with an in- 

 articulate exclamation I retire to find out how a man 



