His Own Petard 87 



handsomely, and to have given up hunting would have 

 been like cutting off theiu noses to spite their faces. 

 They would have suffered : Perkinson would not have 

 minded in the least ; on the contrary, he would rather 

 have been pleased. One day a hound, sick or sorry, had 

 lingered behind the pack, and Hedworth, on jumping the 

 fence, had lighted within three or four yards of the 

 straggler. Need it be said that Perkinson started com- 

 plaints about; men who came out to steeplechase and 

 rode over the hounds ? It was not in the least Hed- 

 worth's fault, but it gave the tyrant an opportunity of 

 which he availed himself, and relations grew more and 

 more strained. 



One day — there was no hunting — Perkinson, with 

 Bob in attendance, was riding to a part of the country 

 over which hoands had not been for a good many years. 

 The property had belonged to a cantankerous old man. 

 Sir George Cross, who had quarrelled with Herries, father 

 of the late master, and warned the hounds oft* his land, 

 assuring him that if he ventured to come in face of the 

 prohibition, he would find no foxes ; and so for a long 

 time the coverts had not been drawn. He had died ; 

 his brother, who inherited, wished to be neighbourly, 

 and having by accident heard of the warning off, had 

 civilly written to beg Perkinson to come when it suited 

 him to do so. Perkinson had, therefore, ridden over 

 with Bob to inspect what was practically an addition 

 to the country, an extensive tract of, for the most 

 part, poorish grazing land, with some well-cultivated 

 fields, which had been reclaimed by much draining, 

 scattered about ; but the land, poor as it might be 

 from an agriculturist's point of view, was well enough 

 for hunting if only a few litters of cubs could be 



