And now the hounds were scattering themselves in the wood, and the party rode up the centre roadway towards a great circular opening in the middle of it. Here it was the recognised practice of the horsemen to stand, and those who properly did their duty would stand there; but very many lingered at the gate, knowing that there was but one other exit from the wood, without overcoming the difficulty of a very intricate and dangerous fence.
“There be a gap, bain’t there?” said one farmer to another, as they were entering.
“Yes, there be a gap, and young Grubbles broke his ’orse’s back a getting over of it last year,” said the second farmer.
“Did he though?” said the first; and so they both remained at the gate.
And others, a numerous body, including most of the ladies, galloped up and down the cross ways, because the master of the hounds and the huntsman did so. “D⸺ those fellows riding up and down after me wherever I go,” said the master. “I believe they think I’m to be hunted.” This seemed to be said more especially to Miss Tristram, who was always in the master’s confidence; and I fear that the fellows alluded to included Miss Furnival and Miss Staveley.
And then there came the sharp, eager sound of a hound’s voice; a single, sharp, happy opening bark, and Harriet Tristram was the first to declare that the game was found. “Just five minutes and twenty seconds, my lord,” said Julia Tristram to Lord Alston. “That’s not bad in a large wood like this.”
“Uncommonly good,” said his lordship. “And when are we to get out of it?”
“They’ll be here for the next hour, I’m afraid,” said the lady, not moving her horse from the place where she stood, though many of the more impetuous of the men were already rushing away to the gates. “I have seen a fox go away from here without resting a minute; but that was later in the season, at the end of February. Foxes are away from home then.” All which observations showed a wonderfully acute sporting observation on the part of Miss Tristram.
And then the music of the dogs became fast and frequent, as they drove the brute across and along from one part of the large wood to another. Sure there is no sound like it for filling a man’s heart with an eager desire to be at work. What may be the trumpet in battle I do not know, but I can imagine that it has the same effect. And now a few of them were standing on that wide circular piece of grass, when a sound the most exciting of them all reached their ears. “He’s away!” shouted a whip from a corner of the wood. The good-natured beast, though as yet it was hardly past Christmas-time, had consented to bless at once so many anxious sportsmen, and had left the back of the covert with the full pack at his heels.
“There is no gate that way, Miss Tristram,” said a gentleman.
“There’s a double ditch and bank that will do as well,” said she, and away she went directly after the hounds, regardless altogether of the gates. Peregrine Orme and Felix Graham, who were with her, followed close upon her track.
XXIX
Breaking Covert
“There’s a double ditch and bank that will do as well,” Miss Tristram had said when she was informed that there was no gate out of the wood at the side on which the fox had broken. The gentleman who had tendered the information might as well have held his tongue, for Miss Tristram knew the wood intimately, was acquainted with the locality of all its gates, and was acquainted also with the points at which it might be left, without the assistance of any gate at all, by those who were well mounted and could ride their horses. Therefore she had thus replied, “There’s a double ditch and bank that will do as well.” And for the double ditch and bank at the end of one of the grassy roadways Miss Tristram at once prepared herself.
“That’s the gap where Grubbles broke his horse’s back,” said a man in a red coat to Peregrine Orme, and so saying he made up his wavering mind and galloped away as fast as his nag could carry him. But Peregrine Orme would not avoid a fence at which a lady was not afraid to ride; and Felix Graham, knowing little but fearing nothing, followed Peregrine Orme.
At the end of the roadway, in the middle of the track, there was the gap. For a footman it was doubtless the easiest way over the fence, for the ditch on that side was half filled up, and there was space enough left of the half-broken bank for a man’s scrambling feet; but Miss Tristram at once knew that it was a bad place for a horse. The second or further ditch was the really difficult obstacle, and there was no footing in the gap from which a horse could take his leap. To the right of this the fence was large and required a good horse, but Miss Tristram knew her animal and was accustomed to large fences. The trained beast went well across on to the bank, poised himself there for a moment, and taking a second spring carried his mistress across into the further field apparently with ease. In that field the dogs were now running, altogether, so that a sheet might have covered them; and Miss Tristram, exulting within her heart and holding in her horse, knew that she had got away uncommonly well.
Peregrine Orme followed—a little to the right of the lady’s passage, so that he might have room for himself, and do no mischief in the event of Miss Tristram or her horse making any mistake at the leap. He also
