s followed him with the Colonel after
them. When they were at the hunting-gate already spoken of, old Tony
Tappett was with them, trotting, impatient to get to the hounds,
courteously giving place to the ladies,--whom, however, in his heart,
he wished at home in bed,--and then thrusting himself through the
gate in front of the Colonel. "D---- their pig-headed folly," he
said, as he came up to his friend Twentyman--"they knows no more
about it than if they'd just come from be'ind a counter,--'olloaing,
'olloaing, 'olloaing,--as if 'olloaing'd make a fox break! 'Owsomever
'e's off now, and they've got Cranbury Brook between them and his
line!" This he said in a squeaking little voice, intended to be
jocose and satirical, shaking his head as he rode. This last idea
seemed to give him great consolation.

It was the consideration, deep and well-founded, as to the Cranbury
which had induced Larry Twentyman to pause on the road when he had
paused, and then to make for the lane and the gate. The direction had
hardly seemed to be that of the hounds, but Larry knew the spinney,
knew the brook,--knew the fox, perhaps,--and was aware of the spot at
which the brute would cross the water if he did cross it. The brute
did cross the water, and therefore there was Cranbury Brook between
many of the forward riders and his line.

Sir Harry was then with them, and two or three other farmers. But
Larry had a lead, and the two girls were with him. Tony Tappett,
though he had got up to his hounds, did not endeavour to ride
straight to them as did Larry Twentyman. He was old and unambitious,
very anxious to know where his hounds were, so that he might be
with them should they want the assistance of his voice and counsel,
anxious to be near enough to take their fox from them should they run
into him, but taking no glory in jumping over a fence if he could
avoid it, creeping about here and there, knowing from experience
nearly every turn in the animal's mind, aware of every impediment
which would delay him, riding fast only when the impediments were far
between, taking no amusement to himself out of the riding, but with
his heart cruelly, bloodily, ruthlessly set upon killing the animal
before him. To kill his fox he would imperil his neck, but for the
glory of riding he would not soil his boots if he could help it.
After the girls came the Colonel, somewhat shorn of his honour in
that he was no longer giving them a lead, but doing his best to