CHAPTER X. 



BAR KEY TO TILTON AGAIN. 



^^^ URELY no one who started in that black storm, 

 from Thorpe Trussels witli the Quorn on Friday 

 ^,^^1) (Dec. l-i), conkl have dared suppose that a day 

 of sport was before him — however deep liis faith in the 

 23ack, and however assured by recent events of tlie bright 

 ascendancy of its star. Rain and tempest nearly swept 

 one from the saddle, blinded men and horses, confused 

 the pack, and washed away all trace of Reynard directly 

 the railway was crossed. (I fear me, by the way, that 

 the good man who so deftly unlocked the gates had his 

 outstretched hat more readily filled with rainwater than 

 silver in the dark confusion — for the most grateful and 

 ready of pockets could scarcely have dared open to the 

 drenching downpour. It was a relief, however, to see that 

 the acute janitor was sensible enough to reappear with 

 the sun, to claim from several the gratitude, and the 

 joourhoire, wdiich should ensure us favours to come. The 

 little luxury of " a glass to Foxhunting " at the village 

 public is — believe me — a wondrously valuable agent in 

 these precarious times. Its recognition is not a costly 

 affair ; the opportunity is frequent enough ; and hunting 



