1873—74.] THE QUORN IX LUCK. 123 



or not, with whom they again started and rattled famously by 

 the outskirts of Wartnaby village into Holwell Mouth, there 

 eventually to kill him, it is impossible to say. Certain it is, 

 though, that when killed he was as stiff after death as only a 

 sorely run fox could be. 



It was as late as ten minutes past three when Grimston 

 Gorse was drawn, in presence of a field select as keen ; and at 

 a quarter past a stout fox made good his exit on the Old Dalby 

 side. Accordingly everybody, except Ca^jtain Molyneux, who 

 preferred a line of stiles to the left, went up the bridle road 

 for the wood. The hounds, however, turned sharp round the 

 village of Grimston ; and, all hands reunited, went on again 

 over the grass feeding grounds beyond. Eunning fast and well 

 over a stiffer line even than in the morning, they crossed the 

 Saxelby Bottom — fortunately where fence and stream could be 

 negotiated separately — then leaving Welby Fishponds a field 

 or so to the right, plunged on into the Duke's country. Old 

 Hills was left a little outside their line ; and then, getting on 

 to the plough, they had to slacken the pace (more than a 

 hunting one) at which they had now been going for more than 

 half an hour. Dusk set in as they neared the Melton Brook, 

 and darkness was so far present when they jumped it at ten 

 minutes past four, that water was indistinguishable from weeds. 

 It was jumped, though, by some six or seven people; and among 

 them was a lady, Mrs. Clifford Chaplin (I should apologise 

 for a second mention of her name so soon, did not such a feat 

 proclaim its own praise.) They pressed on still, not half a 

 field from Melton Spinney ; and Avith the fences every moment 

 becoming more matters of hajipy chance, and hounds now out 

 of view when a hundred yards ahead, they took a leap in the 

 dark into the Brentingby Brook, and groped their way ujswards 

 for Brentingby Spinney. How unearthly must Tom's cheer 

 have sounded to the " lated peasant " of Thorpe Arnold ! 

 And how it must have seemed to him that the Wilde Jager of 

 Biirger was scouring the country, as the " wild din invades 

 his ears," with nothing visible or human to account for it! 



