tle of life, which does not hurt
one at all,--unless, indeed, the man hate himself for that which has
brought upon him the hatred of others. Repentance is always an
agony,--and should be so. Without the agony there can be no repentance.
But even then it is hardly so sharp as that feeling of injustice which
accompanies the unmeaning look, and dumb faces, and pretended
indifference of those who have condemned.

When Harry descended from the gig he found himself close to old Mr.
Harkaway, the master of the hounds. Mr. Harkaway was a gentleman who had
been master of these hounds for more than forty years, and had given as
much satisfaction as the county could produce. His hounds, which were
his hobby, were perfect. His horses were good enough for the
Hertfordshire lanes and Hertfordshire hedges. His object was not so much
to run a fox as to kill him in obedience to certain rules of the game.
Ever so many hinderances have been created to bar the killing a fox,--as
for instance that you shouldn't knock him on the head with a
brick-bat,--all of which had to Mr. Harkaway the force of a religion. The
laws of hunting are so many that most men who hunt cannot know them all.
But no law had ever been written, or had become a law by the strength of
tradition, which he did not know.

To break them was to him treason. When a young man broke them he pitied
the young man's ignorance, and endeavored to instruct him after some
rough fashion. When an old man broke them, he regarded him as a fool who
should stay at home, or as a traitor who should be dealt with as such.
And with such men he could deal very hardly. Forty years of reigning had
taught him to believe himself to be omnipotent, and he was so in his own
hunt. He was a man who had never much affected social habits. The
company of one or two brother sportsmen to drink a glass of port-wine
with him and then to go early to bed, was the most of it. He had a small
library, but not a book ever came off the shelf unless it referred to
farriers or the _res venatica_. He was unmarried. The time which other
men gave to their wives and families he bestowed upon his hounds. To his
stables he never went, looking on a horse as a necessary adjunct to
hunting,--expensive, disagreeable, and prone to get you into danger. When
anyone flattered him about his horse he would only grunt, and turn his
head on one side. No one in these latter years had seen him jump any
fence. But yet he was always with hi