face.
She saw his right arm go up, and heard his riding-crop descend with a
sound like a pistol-shot upon Piers' shoulders.

It was a horrible sight and one which she was never to forget. Both
horses began to leap madly, the one Sir Beverley rode finally rearing and
being pulled down again by Piers who hung on to the bridle like grim
death, his head bent, his shoulders wholly exposed to those crashing
merciless blows.

They reeled away at length through the crowd, which scattered in dismay
to let them pass, but for many seconds it seemed to Avery that the
awful struggle went on in the dusk as Piers dragged his grandfather
from the spot.

A great weakness had begun to assail her. Her knees were quivering under
her. She wondered what the next move would be, and felt utterly powerless
to put forth any further effort. And then she heard Ina Rose's clear
young voice.

"Barchard, take the hounds back to kennels! I'm sure we've all had enough
for one day."

"Hear, hear!" said a man in the crowd.

And Ina laughed. "Thank you, Dick! Come along, Dad! Leave the horrid old
fox alone! Don't you think we ought to go and separate Sir Beverley and
Piers? What an old pepper-pot he is!"

"Piers isn't much better," remarked the man she had called Dick. His
proper appellation was Richard Guyes, but his friends never stood on
ceremony with him.

The girl laughed again inconsequently. She was spoken of by some as the
spoilt beauty of the county. "Oh, Piers is stuffed tight with gunpowder
as everybody knows. He explodes at a touch. Get along, Barchard! What are
you waiting for? I told you to take the hounds home."

Barchard looked at the Colonel.

"I suppose you'd better," the latter said. He threw a glance of
displeasure at Avery. "It's a most unheard of affair altogether, but I
admit there's not much to be said for a kill in cold blood. Yes, take
'em home!"

Barchard made a savage cut at two of the hounds who were scratching and
whimpering at a tiny chink in the boarding, and with surly threats
collected the pack and moved off.

The rest of the field melted away into the deepening dusk. Ina and Dick
Guyes were among the last to go. They moved off side by side.

"It'll be the laugh of the county," the man said, "but, egad, I like
her pluck."

And in answer the girl laughed again, a careless, merry laugh. "Yes, I
wonder who she is. A friend of Piers' apparently. Did you see what a
stiff fury he was in?"

"It was a fairly