CHAPTER IX 



AN EARLY MORNING IN THE WOODS 



Unfrequented woods 

 I better brook than flourishing peopled towns. 



Two Gentlemen of Verona. 



Time 3.45 a.m., and a ten-mile ride in prospect 

 to meet hounds in one of their early cub-hunting 

 expeditions on a hot summer morning. The 

 waning moon, now only a crescent, shed a dim 

 light on the road as I started, but the stars were 

 bright enough. There is generally a little chill 

 before dawn, but such was not the case on the 

 morning of which I am speaking. The night had 

 been sultry almost to suffocation, and as I mounted 

 my horse at the hour above mentioned I had the 

 prospect of a long and hot ride before me. As I 

 jogged on through the little town which lay 

 between the trysting place and my home, the care- 

 ful gasman was beginning to put out the gas lamps, 

 though it was still far from being light. The 

 stones were soon left behind me ; and, by the way, 

 what a commotion you seem to make as you jog 

 through a town where no one, save that careful- 

 minded gasman, is astir. The stones, I say, were 

 soon left behind, and then came a ride through 

 pleasant country lanes. In the fields stacks of 

 golden grain loomed large in the half light, and 



