ds, and with greyhounds'
speed. Above their eager mellow notes, and the mad shouting of the
excited sportsmen, and the ceaseless winding of the disregarded horn,
above the thunder of his own wheels, and of the hoofs of his strange
steeds upon the wintry road, rang out Carew's hoarse tones: "The gate,
the gate!" If only that wooden wall could be interposed between his
stags and their pursuers, all might yet be well. But, though the
lodge-keeper had been drawn by the tumult to his door, he stood there
like one amazed and fascinated by the spectacle before him, and
paralyzed with the catastrophe that seemed impending.

"Gate, gate, you gaping idiot!" roared the Squire, with a frightful
curse; but the poor shaking wretch had not the power to stir; it was
Yorke himself who dashed at the latch, and threw the long gate wide to
let the madman pass, and then slammed it back upon the very jaws of the
hounds. They rushed against the solid wood like a living battering-ram,
and howled with baffled rage; and some leaped up and got their fore-paws
over it, and would have got in yet, but that Richard beat them back with
his bare hands.

In the mean time Carew and his stags swept up the park like a whirlwind,
and presently, coming to a coppice, the frightened creatures dashed into
it, doubtless for covert, where wheel and rein and antler, tangling with
trunk and branch, soon brought them to a full stop.

"Good lad!" exclaimed Carew, as Yorke hurried up to help him; "you are a
good plucked one, you are; you shall keep the lodge, if you will,
instead of that lily-livered scoundrel who was too frightened to move.
Oh, I ask pardon; you are a gentleman, are you?"

"Sir, I hope so," answered the young man, stiffly, his anger only half
subdued by the necessity for conciliation.

"Then, come up to the house and dine, whoever you are; I'll lend you a
red coat. Curse those grooms! what keeps them? One can't sit upon a
stag's head to quiet him as though he were a horse." (Two of the stags
were down, and butting, at one another with their horns.) "What a pace
we came up White Hill! I tried to time them, but I could not get my
watch out. You moved yourself like a flash of lightning, else I thought
we must have pinned you against the gate. It was well done, my lad, well
done; and I'm your debtor."

The Squire held out his hand, for the first time, for Yorke to shake.

"Why, what's this?" said he, peering into the other's eyes. "I have
seen yo