126 A Run 



for the reins, but that is all. Urbington thought he 

 could do this brook easily, though last time he was here 

 he went across the ford ; but hounds seem a long time 

 getting across it. Captain Chipping, a good man to 

 follow, has just landed wdth a scramble ; as Urbington 

 nears the water he begins to think whether he would not 

 have done better to go round to the ford again ; and 

 indecision of this sort is fatal. Urbington does not quite 

 know whether he means having it or not, and if he does 

 not, how can the grey "? The consequence is that the 

 pair go slower as they come to the brink, that the horse, 

 feeling a nervous hand on the rein, refuses, Urbington is 

 shot off, and rolls into the water. 



Tapeson and his company are well across the next 

 field. Hounds, too busy so far to speak to it, swing 

 round to the right, and this just lets up Maizeley and 

 his follow^ers, wdio have trotted down a muddy lane that 

 would be green if it were not a shallow^ watercourse, and 

 now join, galloping along a line of which a long vista of 

 gates is an agreeable feature. The gates, too, intersect a 

 series of easy fences, divdding fields where plough is 

 rare ; and it so happens that, though the gates are a 

 trifle wide to the right of the line, it is a toss-up whether 

 to pass through them or to bear a little to the left, jump 

 the fences, and so keep on rather better terms with the 

 hounds, is the wiser course to pursue. With ^Yhat 

 admirable ease does Sylvanson thrown the fences behind 

 him ! His horse skims gaily over the pastures : he sits 

 firmly yet easily in his saddle ; he has the lightest 

 possible touch on the reins ; the casual observer might 

 suppose that his hand was neither guide nor support. 

 The fences may be a little larger or a little smaller ; he 

 sits in his saddle as if he were in an arm-chair, ajDpa- 



