of Gloun Kieraun, and the hounds
were thrown into the wood in which the upper end of the glen was
masked, and were encouraged to work downwards. An unaccustomed wave of
misanthropy had assailed Larry, and instead of following with the
crowd the course of the hounds, he moved onwards along the road,
scarcely considering where he was going. He was thinking with
consternation of what Father Hogan had told him. Larry was not of
those who nurse their wrath to keep it warm, and the thought of Dick's
misfortunes swept away the recollection of his insults. Joker had, of
his own initiative, soon turned aside from the high road into a grassy
lane, and he moved along it in the relentless manner in which many
horses will decline to stand still while Larry, deep in thought,
allowed the reins to lie on the horse's neck while he lit a cigarette
and tried to fix in his memory Father David's exact words. He thought
he would talk to Dr. Mangan about it. Things might be better than the
old priest thought. From the thought of the doctor his mind passed on
to that of his wedding. Was it possible that he was to be married next
week? A distinct physical drop of the heart accompanied the
realisation. "Nerves!" he told himself, and hurried on to reflect upon
his bride. She certainly looked stunning in those grey furs; he was
glad he had given them to her; she knocked spots off any other girl in
the country. He impressed this thought on his mind. And she had sung
jolly well last night, and had accompanied him quite decently. They
would get on all right once they were married. She had been a bit
edgey these last few days, but--some under-self warned him off the
pursuit of this topic. He began to formulate excuses for her that
inculpated himself. Larry "came of a gentle kind," and had the
generous temper that finds it easier to bear than to ascribe blame.

A note of the horn was wafted sweetly across the glen, and he came to
the surface of his thoughts. By Jove! Where had Joker got him to? The
lane they had wandered down ran parallel with Gloun Kieraun, and a gap
in the fence on his left made him aware that he was now moving abreast
with the hunt, but was divided from his fellows by the chasm of the
glen.

A second touch of the horn came; Larry checked his horse; Bill Kirby
had seen him and was shouting to him.

"Head him back if he breaks your side! I want him his way!"

All jolly fine for old Bill, but where did young Mr. Coppinger come
in