ll went well till they
reached Marley Farm, where the meet was. But directly Sir Robert saw
the hounds he got excited and wanted a gallop--a thing the frost had
debarred him of for weeks. So he kicked up his heels and shook his
head, and capered about in a manner very grateful to his own feelings,
but most discomposing to his rider, who was first on the pommel, then on
the crupper, then heeling over on the near side, then on the off--though
both sides threatened to be off sides if these vagaries took a more
violent form.

When the hounds were turned into a field and working, Sir Robert
evidently thought: "Come! I can't be standing still all day while those
dawdling dogs are bothering about after a hare; a gallop I must have!"
And he began to fight for his head; and it took all Crawley's strength--
and he was a very muscular youngster--to hold him. Sir Robert did get
away half across the field once and nearly demolished a hound, with
twenty voices halloing to Crawley to come back, and the master using
language which his godfathers and godmother never taught him, I am
certain. I can only quote the mildest of his reproofs which was: "Go
home to your nursery and finish your pap, you young idiot, and don't
come endangering the lives of animals a thousand times more valuable
than yourself!"

Poor Crawley, wild with shame and rage, managed to haul his horse round
and get back to the others, when it did not improve his temper to see
the broad grin on young Gould's face.

"Don't fight with your horse, youngster," said an old gentleman kindly.
"The more you pull, the more he will pull too."

And Crawley loved that old gentleman, and would have adopted him for a
father, or at least an uncle, on the spot, especially when he found his
advice serviceable; for, loosing his reins when Sir Robert did stand
still, and only checking him lightly when he tried to dart forward, kept
him much quieter.

But would they never find that hare? Yes, at last there was a whimper,
and another, and then a full burst, and away went the hounds, and the
field after them, and, with one final kick up of his heels, Sir Robert
got into his stride. Crawley forgot anger, vexation--everything but the
rapture of the moment. The life of the scene, the contagious excitement
of dogs, horses, and men, the rapid motion, it was even beyond what he
had imagined.

So across a field to a little broken hedge, which Sir Robert took in his
stride without his