it, and so on.

The Squire went down to the kennels with a lantern, Jim shivering
behind him. They had their horses saddled outside and ready, and the
crowd was waiting along the drive and up by the great gates.
The Squire saw at a glance that two couples were missing, and in two
seconds had their names on his tongue. He was like a madman.
He shouted to Jim to open the doors. "Better not, maister!" pleaded
Jim. The old man cursed, smote him across the neck with the butt-end
of his whip, and unlocked the doors himself. Jim, though half
stunned, staggered forward to prevent him, and took another blow,
which felled him. He dropped across the threshold of Chorister's
kennel; the doors of all opened outwards, and the weight of his body
kept this one shut. But he saw the other three hounds run out, saw
the Squire turn with a ghastly face, drop the lantern, and run for it
as White Boy snapped at his boot. Jim heard the crash of the lantern
and the snap of teeth, and with that he fainted off in the darkness.
He had cut his forehead against the bars of the big kennel, and when
he came to himself one of the hounds was licking his face through the
grating.

Men told for years after how the old Squire came galloping up the
drive that night, hoof to belly, his chin almost on mare Nonsuch's
neck, his face like a man's who hears hell cracking behind him, and
of the three dusky hounds which followed (the tale said) with
clapping jaws and eyes like coach-lamps.

Down in the quiet church Taffy heard the outcry, and, laying down his
plane, looked up and saw that his father had heard it too.
Mr. Raymond's mild eyes, shining through his spectacles, asked as
plainly as words: "What was _that?_"

"Listen!"

For a minute--two minutes--they heard nothing more. Then out of the
silence broke a rapid, muffled beat of hoofs, and Mr. Raymond
clutched Taffy's arm as a yell--a cry not human, or if human,
insane--ripped the night as you might rip linen, and fetched them to
their feet. Taffy gained the porch first; and just at that moment a
black shadow heaved itself on the churchyard wall and came hurling
over with a thud--a clatter of dropping stones--then a groan.

Before they could grasp what was happening the old Squire had
extricated himself from the fallen mare, and came staggering across
the graves.

"Hide me!--"

He came with both arms outstretched, his face turned sideways.
Behind him, from the far side of the wall, cam