62 RACECOURSE AND COVERT SIDE. 



I could gather, to have been left to ramble at 

 their own sweet will, I opened the tall white 

 gate and rode across a grass field into the 

 covert. One honnd, a big handsome dog, was 

 enjoying a bath in the muddy bottom of a ditch ; 

 a group of four or five horsemen was congregated 

 in a ride, a labourer holding Toppler's horse ; 

 and Miss Poult, a good-looking girl, accom- 

 panied by an attractive friend, were on their 

 cobs a little way off. 



Occasionally a hound wandered listlessly 

 through the undergrowth ; the sun cast shadows 

 on the grass ; the cheery encouragement that 

 should spur young hounds on to their task was 

 altogether wanting. The only creatures that 

 could possibly enjoy this kind of sport were the 

 cubs — and there did not seem to be any. I 

 was just recalling stories that I had heard about 

 the eccentric proceedings of Squire Poult's 

 hounds when I caught sight of a red coat some 

 distance off in the trees, and rode towards it. 

 Probably this was the huntsman, Toppler? It 

 was ; and Toppler was about to blow his horn. 

 I watched him raising it to his lips as I 

 approached, and, as I drew nearer, woudered 

 tbat no sound was emitted. His head was held 

 back at an eccentric angle ; the sun gleamed on 

 the metal. Stay, it was not metal at all; it 



