A CLUB-ROOM. 19 



canal-lock toward Arnesby village, tlirougli the park, 

 and ran into him in a grass field on the hill over 

 Countisthorpe, twelve miles and a half as the crow 

 flies, without a single check, in an hour and ten min- 

 utes." 



" The cream of every thing in the shape of fox- 

 hunting," said Sir James Musgrave. 



" The worse luck mine," said the count laughing, 

 as he at length got an opportunity of getting in a 

 word, after undergoing the extremity of hand-shaking, 

 divesting himself of his sable cloak, and ensconcing 

 himself in an arm-chair by the fire. " But we must 

 try to make up for it yet. What are you going to do 

 for us to-morrow, squire ?" he continued, speaking per- 

 fectly good English, without the slightest foreign ac- 

 cent. " No, not to-morrow, for that, as the lawyers 

 say, is dies non, but on Monday." 



" Something good if we've any luck," squeaked 

 Osbaldiston. "Wymondham village is our meet, and 

 if we find a good fox we may take you across the 

 Whitsendine, and down into the vale, count." 



" That gray will be the thing for Monday, Matus- 

 chevitz," said Harry Goodrick, the best judge of a 

 weight-carrier in the country, unless it were Magher. 



" He is a magnificent brute, such power and such 

 breeding, too ; he would carry my sixteen stone just 

 as easily as your twelve. Take my advice and ride 

 him on Monday ; the vale will be devilish heavy after 

 these rains, and the brooks are all bankfull." 



"No, Sir Harry, Martindale's commands are the 

 brown mare, and the dark-chestnut, for the second 

 horse ; and, you know, Martindale brooks no question 

 of supremacy in his department." 



" Oh ! Martindale be hanged ; ride the gray ; he is 

 out and out the best of the lot ; though the lot is «. 

 prime one." 



