22 EACECOURSE AND COVEET SIDE. 



is trudging wearily down the road. Lights gleam 

 in the windows of one cottage as I pass along 

 the village street, and so on down a hill, towards 

 the bottom of which a dense cloud obscures 

 everything. The mare pricks her ears obser- 

 vantly as she trots on, and we nearly miss a gap 

 where, by going across the fields, a half-mile is 

 saved. Very cautiously we travel here, for there 

 is a drain in the lower part of this field, and a 

 roll in the water would be a bad beginning ; but 

 the mare knows her way, glides easily over the 

 cutting, and through another gap we reach the 

 road leading to the Grange, where the commo- 

 dore lives. 



Here is the gate, and into the stable-yard we 

 clatter without seeing a sign of life. It is the 

 hour, but where is the man ? My "Halloa "is 

 answered from the stable, however, and the door 

 being opened, I see that my friend and his groom 

 are performing ceremonies similar to those which 

 I went through half an hour since. 



" I want to see how the new one goes," the 

 commodore says, as a handsome little bay is led 

 out. " He's never seen the hounds, and if he 

 takes to them kindly I hope he'll be well ac- 

 quainted with them before the season is over. 

 By Jove, how misty it is ! Along here ! " and 

 we are soon upon the way to Hatcham Pond. 



