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TUFTS UNIVERSITY LIBRARIES 
 
JOHN A. SE AVERNS 
 
 Webster Family Library of Veterinary Medicine 
 Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine at 
 Tufts University 
 200 Westboro Road 
 North Grafton, MA 01536 
 
THE 
 
 HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT 
 

 « 
 » 
 
 
 
THE 
 
 Haughtyshire 
 
 Hunt 
 
 By fox RUSSELL 
 
 AUTHOR OF "CROSS COUNTRY REMINISCENCES," "IN SCARLET AND SILK," ETC. 
 
 IVITH SIXTEEN FULL-PAGE PICTURES ON PLATE PAPER AND 
 TWENTY-FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT BY 
 
 R. J. RICHARDSON 
 
 LONDON 
 BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., BOUVERIE STREET 
 
 1897 
 
^ 
 
 BRADBURY, AONEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS, 
 LONDON AND TONBRIDGR. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IIO"n' THE BINKIES TOOK 'THE CHASE' 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE FOGGY DAY — HIS GRACE OF HAUGHTYSHIEE .... 8 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ME. BINKIE'S friends — MAEMION, BY CAPULET .... 19 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MARMION TAKES MR. BIKKIE OX'T WITH HOUXDS . . . . 32 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 MARMION AT A DISCOrNT 49 
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 
 MAEMIOIS' VAXQnSHES SIR TOMMY 64 
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 
 AT ALDRIDGE'S — MISS TURNOVER 79 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 VIIEZ FOBBS 97 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE HUNT BALL AT MUDBURY 116 
 
vi CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A RED-LETTER DAY WITH THE DITKE'S 13(3 
 
 CHAPTER XI. . 
 
 AFTER THE RUN loG ^5 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MR. BINKIE VISITS CATCHEM COURT I6f5 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 JIR. BINKIE TAKES THE PLUNGE 175 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AFFAIRS MATRIMONIAL . . . 184 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 NOEL-TIDE VJo 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE RACE FOR THE DUKE'S CUP 209 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 AT CUPID'S SHRINE 229 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 TURNOVER *'. BINKIE 237 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE VERDICT — WEDDING BELLS 249 
 
FULL-PAGE PICTURES. 
 
 THE MEET— ARRIVAL OF THE DUKE 
 THE FOG AT THE CROSS ROADS . 
 THE DUKE AND MRS. GUMPAGE 
 JACK TRIES THE CHESTNUT 
 MISS COMELY TAKES THE BRUSH . 
 
 AT ALDRIDGE'S 
 
 M. LE BARON IS WRATHFUL . 
 JUMPING INTO THE TURNPIKE ROAD 
 THE CLIMB ON TO THE DOWNS 
 TRAVERS UP A TREE .... 
 IN THE DUKE'S SANCTUM . 
 THE START FOR THE CUP 
 MARMION LEADS AT THE BROOK . 
 AT THE LAST FENCE .... 
 
 MARMION RETURNING TO WEIGH . 
 TOTTIE IN THE BOX .... 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Frontisjnece 
 To face 8 
 
 12 
 2G 
 50 
 82 
 130 
 142 
 148 
 180 
 206 
 214 
 224 
 226 
 228 
 24G 
 
TEXT ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 -•- 
 
 PAGE 
 
 mahmion, by capulet 23 
 
 :n^obbs, the colt-breaker 39 
 
 marmion ' takes charge ' 43 
 
 the beatex fox .... 4*7 
 
 marmiox in the brook 53 
 
 prodigal 63 
 
 sir tomjiy ' cuts a voluntary ' 67 
 
 ilR. BINKIE JUNIOR 75 
 
 IN FOBBS'S PADDOCK 103 
 
 ' HONEST EDWARD ' 109 
 
 HERR LAGERBIER 119 
 
 PENELOPE 125 
 
 BINKIE AND SON 129 
 
 SIR TOODLE LUMPKIN 133 
 
 LUTY LUMPKIN 135 
 
 THE SERIOUS MUSICIAN 139 
 
 WILL loS 
 
 THE DUKE AND ADELA AT THE CHASE 161 
 
 MR. BINKIE ARRIVES 167 
 
 TRAVERS AND LUTY 173 
 
 IN TRAVERS'S DEN 1S7 
 
 THE WRIT 193 
 
 AN OLD DOG FOX 201 
 
 TRAVERS WEIGHS OUT 217 
 
. THE 
 
 Haughtyshire Hunt. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HOW THE BINKIES TOOK ' THE CHASE.' 
 
 Eight in the heart of the lovely vale of Lambdown, a 
 hard-bitten old fox-hunting Squire, Ealph Benwell, erected 
 for himself, some two centuries since, a fine square house 
 of grey stone, surrounded by a moat, with a huge range 
 of stabling, and here, together with his six boys and girls, 
 he devoted himself almost entirely to the pleasures of the 
 chase ; and, when in due, or, perhaps, undue course — for the 
 hard Squire lacked but a few weeks of his ninetieth year 
 at the time he was gathered to his fathers, ' full of years 
 and honour ' — his eldest son reigned in his stead, he 
 w^orthily carried on the same pack of fox-hounds, the same 
 sized stud of hunters, and the same existence generally, 
 as his sire had done before him. He married a fruitful 
 wife, lived long and happily, and was, in his turn, suc- 
 ceeded by his firstborn boy. But at the conclusion of this 
 IDarticular Benwell's reign, things began to go awry at The 
 Chase, as the old grey stone mansion was called. A spend- ' 
 thrift son in a crack cavalry regiment, a rascally lawyer, 
 and a temporary depression in things agricultural, forced 
 
 H.H. B 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 the then head of the Benwells, most unwillingly, to let the 
 good old house, and retire, with his wife and the younger 
 members of his family, to the comparative seclusion of a 
 small Continental watering-place, in which he ultimately 
 died, without recovering any part of his lost fortune. 
 
 Just about the time that The Chase came into the 
 market, a Mr. Septimus Binlde, who was always described 
 by his friends and toadies — of whom he had many — as a 
 ' Merchant Prince,' and by his enemies — of which there 
 were few — as a tallow-chandler in a large way of business, 
 had just come to the conclusion that, the number of 
 thousands in the ' Threes ' being sufficiently large, he 
 would close the shutters of the shop in Billiter Street for 
 ever, knock off the plebeian, if highly respectable, prefix of 
 'Mr.,' and blossom out into Septimus Binkie, Esquire, of 
 some important place in the country. 
 
 Not that Mr. Binkie cared for a country life, but he was 
 quite shrewd enough to know that he would find it easier 
 to get into society — a thing which Mrs. Binkie assured 
 him was essential to their worldly happiness at least, if 
 not, indeed, to the ultimate salvation of their souls — in 
 some spot remote from the place in which ' Try Binkie' s 
 Composites ' had been so liberally advertised, than it would 
 be in the great Metropolis itself. And the Binkies, j>('r(? et 
 mere, soared high ; a title indeed, for one, if not for both 
 of their children, was quite within those fond dreams of 
 future greatness, in which these worthy people were wont to 
 indulge. 
 
 The famille Binkie consisted of one lovely daughter, and 
 one unlovely son. The pink-and-white complexion, shell- 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 
 
 like ears, and golden brown hair of Penelope Binkie, had 
 already brought the giddy moths fluttering round the candle 
 - — a rather unfortunate simile, perhaps, to use, considering 
 her respected father's business. All these young blades, 
 however, as not possessing the requisite qualifications, had 
 been frigidly received by the parents, and then promptly 
 sent to the rightabout, and it was plainly intimated to 
 poor Penelo^De, that unless she were wishful for a life of 
 single blessedness, she must ' look high ' in the matrimonial 
 market. 
 
 Travers Algernon Binkie, who was about two years senior 
 to his sister, had just left PJngnose College, Oxford, and was 
 ostensibly qualifying for the Bar ; and if an assiduous 
 attendance on the Hebes behind it could fit him for the 
 ultimate wearing of a wig and gown, his father had certainly 
 no right to complain of his negligence. He w'as, as we have 
 intimated, rather an ill-favoured young man ; his cheeks were 
 red and somewhat fat, and an embryo moustache which his 
 friend. Jack Dashwood, said reminded him of a cricket match 
 (' eleven-a-side, you know')? seemed a perpetual source of 
 worry to its owner, who was constantly exhorted by the same 
 ingenuous youth to "leave it alone, old chap, or you'll break 
 'em off short." 
 
 Mr. Binkie Junior always wore garments too small for 
 him, had sandy hair, and a big meaningless blue eye. He 
 was generally dressed, not only in, but considerably beyond, 
 the height of fashion, and affected a love for field sports 
 which he was far from feeling. The choice spirits he had 
 managed to gather round him at the 'A^arsity, smoked his 
 cigars, rode his horses, drank his port — Binkie Senior 
 
 B 2 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 didn't believe in claret — and abused him behind his back. 
 They egged him on to do everything they wished for them- 
 selves, carefully omitting to pay their own share of the shot ; 
 considering, doubtless, that their distinguished company 
 would be ample repayment in itself. 
 
 And now, with last week's Fidel before him, Septimus 
 Binkie, Esq., put the tips of his fingers together, his elbows 
 resting comfortably on the arms of his chair, and perused, 
 through gold-rimmed spectacles, the following fascinating 
 advertisement — 
 
 TO BE LET OR SOLD.— An old-fashioned, stone-built 
 mansion, known as The Chase, surrounded by a moat, 
 situate in the centre of the Duke of Haughtyshire's hunt. 
 This commodious and highly eligible residence is approached 
 by a long carriage-drive, bordered with noble oak trees, 
 with lodge at entrance gates ; contains twenty bed and 
 dressing-rooms, with usual ofifices, four handsome reception- 
 rooms, large entrance hall, etc., etc., etc. 
 
 Thus the alluring announcement ran on, whilst reserved, 
 as a tit-bit, for the finish, came ' Stabling for upwards of 
 twenty horses.' 
 
 " Ha-hum," observed the ex-tallow-chandler, dryshaving 
 his chin as he was always wont to do when in any doubt or 
 perplexity. " Ha-hum, I wonder now if the house would suit, 
 or be too big ? ' In the Duke of Haughtyshire's country ' 
 it says. Wonder if His Grace would call ? " 
 
 Seeing her lord in that state of uncertainty in which she 
 had always found him most malleable, Mrs. Binkie put down 
 the crochet she was doing, got up and walked across the 
 room to his side. Her quick eye soon fixed itself on the 
 advertisement, and taking the Fidel she perused the par- 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 ticulars of The Chase in silence. Then laying it down again, 
 she said, in impressive tones — 
 
 " Sep, this is the very thing for us." 
 
 "Think so, my dear?" 
 
 " Think so? Certainly I think so. Why, the very adver- 
 tisement smells of men in armour and baronial halls. A 
 moat, too ; why, Sep, I shouldn't wonder if there was even a 
 drawback and fortfullis." 
 
 "Drawbridge and portcullis," mildly put in Septimus. 
 
 " Fortfullis or portcullis, what's it matter ? you know what 
 I mean, Sep. Now, just you take my advice for once in your 
 life, and go down to see this place — what's it called ? ' The 
 Chaise,' I suppose because of all that stable and coach-house 
 room — what ? oh, ' The Chase,' is it? well, never mind ; you 
 go and see the agent, or the traveller, or whatever he's called, 
 and then start off and inspect the place for yourself. It's my 
 belief we shall find it just what we want. And you might ask 
 the agent, Sep — at least, not right out, you know — but you 
 might just try and find out somehow from him whether the 
 Duke of 'Aughtyshire is likely to leave his card on us if we 
 take the house. That is," she added thoughtfully, "if dukes 
 uses cards." 
 
 " Well, that don't matter, does it, Sal — Cecilia, I mean ; so 
 difficult to get hold of these new names at first, and it really 
 is a bit confusing for a man after his wife's been Sally 
 for " 
 
 " Now Sep, that'll do. I'm Cecilia now^ I'm sure if 
 women change the colour of their hair and the number of 
 their front teeth, it's a small thing that they should change 
 their names. Why, Sep," she continued, as a glorious vision 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 of future greatness unfolded itself before her mind's e^-e : 
 "Why, Sep, they might even make you a Master of the 
 Fox Dogs." 
 
 " God forbid," murmured her husband piously. 
 
 The lady looked at him half pityingly, half sternly. 
 
 "You've no ambition, Sep, no proper pride, I'm afraid. 
 You must make some sacrifice to the conveniences, as the 
 French say." 
 
 "But I don't want to fall off a horse and break my neck, 
 for all that, my dear. Well, at all events, I'll go down and 
 see the agent— can do no harm, anyway. And after that I'll 
 just inspect the house to see if it's suitable, and the drainage 
 is all right." 
 
 "You mustn't be too particular about that, Sep. In 
 the ancient old mededevil times I daresay they were not 
 over nice about such things as drains. But ring the bell, 
 and Mortimer will come and bring your hat and coat. Never 
 spoil a good mind. You've got the money — you've got a 
 proud and lofty bearing — a good figure still, and a good 
 
 carriage- 
 
 " Oh, I should walk there, my dear; I shan't want the 
 
 carriage. 
 
 "Fiddlesticks, Sep, I don't mean that sort of carriage. I 
 mean you've a distangay way with you, and if we only play 
 our cards well we shall soon be county people, and you'll be 
 made a magistrate and a captain in the yeomanry." 
 
 " I should prefer the rifle volunteers, my dear. They go 
 on foot." 
 
 "Well, never mind that, now. All those things'll come 
 when once we're in the moated house and the peoj^le all 
 
 ^ 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 round come to our entertainments ; j^ou'll see we shall soon 
 be on teri'a cotta." 
 
 " Terra firma, Sal — Cecilia. And now I'll just walk down 
 to Arundel Street and make enquiries." 
 
 And within a month of that time the worthy ex-tallow- 
 chandler had inscribed upon his visiting cards — 
 
 Mr. Septimus Binkie, 
 
 The Chase, LiDiihdown, 
 Haughty shire. 
 
 and was busily engaged with certain gentlemen of Hebraic 
 appearance, in Wardour Street, arranging for a complete set 
 of ancestors — four to the century — to be added to the Lares 
 and Penates already collected in the old home of the fox- 
 hunting Benwells. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE FOGGY DAY HIS GRACE OF HAUGHTYSHIRE. 
 
 The late Mr. G. P. E. James was wont, as we all know, to 
 begin some of his excellent romances with the statement that 
 ' a solitary horseman might have been observed, at eventide, 
 riding across a range of hills,' or emerging from some 
 picturesque valley or other. We might begin this chapter by 
 observing that a solitary horseman could have been seen 
 emerging from a morning fog, as dense as the English mid- 
 lands can produce, in the month of December. But the 
 parallel travels no further ; for whereas the famous romancist 
 would garb his rider in mediaeval costume, with lovelocks 
 hanging down upon his shoulders, and put into his mouth 
 some such old-world quaintness as ' S'death ! I have ridden 
 far and fast this day,' or ' By'r Lady! but the light faileth 
 me,' our own commonplace horseman merely coughs the 
 damp, reeking atmosphere out of his throat and lungs, and 
 ejaculates a word which we regret to know is even more 
 commonplace than this particular equestrian was himself ; he 
 simply grunts out ' D — n ! ' 
 
 For Mr. Walter Sanders, who holds the highly honourable, 
 if not very lucrative, appointment of second horseman to His 
 Grace of Haughtyshire, has been sent on to the meet this 
 morning, greatly against his own inclination — a pipe by the 
 
The Foi( at the Cross-roads. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 saddle-room fire being much more in his line than threading 
 his way through country lanes dense with a suffocating fog 
 — to say that hounds would not hunt, and thus save waiting 
 to all and sundry of the very keen division, who, hoping 
 against hope, had turned up at the appointed tryst. 
 
 Banging their hands against their sporting breasts, and on 
 their pipeclayed thighs, some five-and-twenty or thirty men 
 were jogging impatiently up and down, by a sign-post where 
 three roads met. To keep yourself warm in a dense, frosty fog 
 — although it was not actually freezing — is at all times a 
 hard matter. Wlien you have nothing to do but wait, it is 
 doubly so. 
 
 "Well, Walter?" shout half-a-dozen voices at once, in 
 interrogative tones, as that worthy's scarlet coat emerges 
 suddenly out of the fog. Walter touches his cap to all, 
 officially^ — to those who tip him, almost afiectionately. 
 
 "The Dook, genelmen, sends his compliments, and is sorry 
 'ounds can't come to-day ; 'is Grace sees no sign o' clearin' 
 and 'e's afraid 'arf the pack 'd be lost in this 'ere fog." 
 
 "Ah, well, I told you so" — " Of course you couldn't hunt 
 with a fog like this " — " Could have come perfectly well if he'd 
 liked" — "No chance of hunting, as I said all along" — 
 " They'd have gone, right enough, if I'd had the pack," etc., 
 etc., etc., was the chorus that broke out immediately on receipt 
 of the news, and then ensued the usual " Going my way 
 home?" — "I must follow the lane to-day — should lose myself 
 if I struck across the fields" — "Good-morning, sir, good- 
 morning — well, better luck on Saturday," and sundry other 
 valedictory words, as the company gradually broke up and 
 jogged off in difi'erent directions, in twos and threes and fours, 
 
10 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 with here and there a horseman maldng a line for his stable 
 by himself. 
 
 "Seen these new people at The Chase yet'?" asks a tall, 
 well-groomed man of his companion. 
 
 " No, I have not. But I am going there to call — well, as 
 we can't hmit, I shall probably go there this afternoon," replies 
 the other, whose neat, black coat, of peculiar cut, dark breeches 
 and ' choker ' proclaim him, at sight, a parson. " They're in 
 my parish, and came to church last Sunday," he adds. 
 
 " I know. I saw them. Old man looks rather a — well, I 
 should hardly take him for a sportsman, eh ? " 
 
 "Hardly — hold up, horse!" as the ecclesiastical weight- 
 carrier struck a huge stone with his toe and tripped over it. 
 " However, they may be very nice people, and even if he 
 doesn't hunt himself, he may be friendly to the sport. Hope 
 he is, as a lot of that grass land over towards Thorpe-Herons 
 goes with the house, you know." 
 
 The other. Sir Peter Mills, a J. P., and large landowner in 
 that and the surrounding parishes, nodded his head. 
 
 "Yes — two or three very useful coverts they have, too. 
 Pump him, Geoffry, will you, and if he's at all inclined to cut 
 up rough about the hounds, we must get the Duke to call, you 
 know. That usually has the effect of putting things straight." 
 
 For be it known that His Grace of Haughtyshire could be, 
 and was, ' all things to all men.' The farmers in the district 
 hunted by the Haughtyshire Foxhounds were almost all 
 sportsmen, or at least favourable to sport. But here and 
 there one would turn rusty, or make complaints, some reason- 
 able, some very much the reverse : Jorker would put up an 
 impossible post and rails just where the foxes invariably broke 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUXT. ii 
 
 from Scrapton covert, thereby ' caging ' the field in most 
 effective style ; whilst Gmnpage's wife actually hmig out the 
 washing on the timber guarding the only jumpable place, for 
 half-a-mile, in the Swirhngford Brook. Eemonstrance in 
 either case had proved absolutely futile, until the Duke, as the 
 final Court of Appeal, had taken the matter in hand, and had 
 one day astonished good Mrs. Gumpage by cantering up on his 
 way home from hunting, surprising her in the very act of 
 hanging out the offending clothes. The good lady actually 
 gasped for breath as the Duke removed his hat and made her 
 a sweeping bow from his saddle. 
 
 "Good-day, my dear Mrs. Gumpage, good-day. Delighted 
 to see you engaged in this highly healthful occupation. My 
 huntsman, Will Eidall, tells me that you are in the habit of 
 using these rails as clothes props, just where the brook is 
 jumpable, jus — s — st at the par — tic — ular spot where it's 
 jumpable. ' But,' I said to him, ' if the clothes are in the way, 
 why not speak to Mrs. Gumpage about it ? Mrs. Gumpage,' 
 I told him, ' was a lady of whose friendship I was proud.' " 
 
 At this juncture the good lady's red face was a study ; vulgarly 
 speaking, she did not know whether she was standing on her 
 head or on her heels, she was 'that flustered,' as she explained 
 to her ' old man ' when he came home that evening. What '? 
 had she heard aright ? — the Duke of Haughtyshire speaking 
 of her as a lady of whose friendship he was proud? She began 
 to think that that little drop of sloe gin she had taken ' just 
 to. keep the cold out' had really — but no, it was such a little 
 drop that it couldn't, surely ? 
 
 And then the silvery voice went on, " And that I was 
 quite sure that if the matter had been properly represented — 
 
12 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 and mind you, Mrs. Gumpage, I mean properhi represented 
 — to her, that she would be the very last, the actual last 
 person to mterfere with sport in any way. Am I right, 
 dear Mrs. Gumpage ? Why, you are beginning to remove the 
 clothes already. I knew it. Yes, I told Eidall he had not 
 represented the matter in its proper light to you. I knew 
 I was right," and His Grace produced a solid gold case from 
 which he elegantly took a cigarette, whilst Mrs. Gumpage, 
 still unable to say a word, hustled off the flannel petticoats and 
 Gumpage's vests, and all and sundry the other mysterious 
 garments, * fearfully and wonderfully made,' which had been 
 hitherto wont to get rid of their moist, soapsuddy environment 
 by hanging on the rails of the only possible ' take off ' to the 
 Swirlingford Brook. Never again in the history of the Hunt 
 were those rails desecrated by Mrs. Gumpage's, or Mrs. 
 Anybody else's ' washing.' 
 
 In similar manner, and with perfect suavity, did the Duke 
 attack and vanquish Jorker, and the top bar of his objection- 
 able post and rails was immediately removed, thus lowering 
 the ' lep ' by a couple of feet. His Grace's manners charmed 
 every heart, and if His Grace's veracity was not quite as 
 unimpeachable, it must be said, in common justice, that 
 nearly all the Ducal taradiddles were told in the interests of 
 kindness, courtesy, and fox-hunting : three things very excel- 
 lent, and not to be surpassed in these or any other times. 
 
 On the afternoon of that very foggy day, the comfortable 
 morning-room of The Chase was occupied by Mr. Septimus 
 Binkie, his excellent spouse, and their daughter Penelope. 
 Mr. Travers Algernon Binkie was entertaining two of his 
 particular college friends, Mr. Jack Dashwood and Sir Thomas 
 
The Duke and Mrs. Gmnpage. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 13 
 
 Fitzsquancler, in his own little den upstairs, where long 
 tumblers, cork-screws, and boxes of cigars seemed to form an 
 important part of the furnishing of the room. These young 
 gentlemen, fresh from their Alma Mater, had determined upon 
 favouring The Chase with their presence over the so-called 
 festive season, and making things generally lively in the 
 ancestral hall now reigned over — at least nominally — by 
 Septimus Binkie, Esq. 
 
 I say nominally reigned over by that excellent citizen — for, 
 as my readers will have perhaps divined for themselves, Mrs. 
 Septimus, if not exactly wearing the — well, in these latter 
 days, I suppose we should call it the ' bifurcated garment ' — 
 at all events, to every intent and purpose, was the moving 
 spirit in the place. Mr. Binkie had long ceased to contend for 
 the command of the establishment, and like a wise General 
 retired at discretion — retired with bands playing and colours 
 flying, be it understood, but retired, and that unmistakably, 
 from a position which was no longer tenable. He was the 
 nominal master of the house, but in point of fact he only 
 played viola to Mrs. Binkie's first fiddle in the domestic 
 orchestra. 
 
 " Sep," exclaimed the lady suddenly, " I do believe there's 
 someone driving up from the lodge gates — someone coming 
 to call " 
 
 "Is there indeed, my dear. What a nuisance, just as 
 we were all sitting here so comfortably, too." 
 
 " Sep," this time in sharper tones, " don't be more ridiculous 
 than you can help. Isn't that the very thing we've come 
 to live here for ? Isn't that the way to get to know all 
 the nobs?" (A strict regard for veracity will not permit 
 
14 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 the writer to clothe Mrs, Binkie's speech in any more elegant 
 garb — the lady's expressions were wont, on occasions, to be 
 homely.) 
 
 " How do you know but what it mightn't be the Dook 
 himself? If so, we must get Sir Thomas Fitzsquander down 
 into the drawing-room to meet him ; let His Grace see that 
 we have some aristobratic friends." 
 
 "Aristocratic, my love," feebly murmured Septimus, who 
 had received a sound commercial education at the Blankford 
 Charit — beg pardon, Grammar School. 
 
 Mrs. Binkie did not deign any reply, but being a naturally 
 sharp woman, she always stored such corrections up in her 
 mind for use on future occasions. At this juncture she 
 had eyes and ears, however, for nothing but the rapidly 
 oncoming visitor. As he made the final turn round the 
 rhododendron bushes of the drive, her keen eye fell on the 
 clerical collar of the Eeverend Geoffry Yarboro, with whom 
 we have already a slight acquaintance. 
 
 "A Parson," exclaimed the lady, in tones of disappoint- 
 ment, not to say disgust : " Only the Parson ; well, I suppose 
 that's better than nothing, anyhow," she added, brightening 
 up. " I daresay now, if we're civil to him and give him a 
 dinner now and then — when we want someone to make up, 
 you know, Sep — that he'll be the means of introducing us to 
 some of the county people." 
 
 "I daresay, my dear, I daresay," assented Septimus, who, 
 to tell the truth, was strongly inclined to seek the drowsy god, 
 this dull, foggy day, instead of receiving callers. 
 
 "Penelope, come into the salong with your mother. Sep, 
 you'll wait ten minutes, and then come in — not before, mind ;" 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUXT. 15 
 
 and then this Generalissimo in petticoats, having issued her 
 orders, sailed into the drawing-room, closely attended by her 
 dutiful and lovely daughter. 
 
 In due course the visitor was ushered in by a resplendent 
 creature in plush and white stockings. Mrs. Binlde was 
 'discovered' as the playbooks say, in a becoming attitude 
 at the piano — not one note of which could she have played 
 had her life depended on it. The usual greetings over, the 
 lady of the house got on to the trail of the local bigwigs, 
 like a Brocklesby Eallywood on a fox. 
 
 "Now tell me, Mr. Yarboro, what sort of a man is the 
 Dook? — affable to his neighbours, or not? I suppose he 
 wouldn't associate with such commonplace people as you and 
 me, now, would he? Does he ever give you an invite to 
 
 the Castle?" 
 
 Mr. Yarboro suppressed a quiet smile as he answered, 
 "Yes, Mrs. Binkie, I am often up at the Castle, and I can 
 assure you the Duke is always glad to see his neighbours." 
 
 " Is he, now ? "vVell, I'm glad to hear that, anyway. Binkie, 
 made his money in trade, of course — merchant prince, and 
 all that — but we're not a bit proud, and not at all ashamed 
 of being merchant princes and princesses, oh dear no. Now, 
 I dessay you'd like to come here, one night, to dinner, and 
 see our pictures and furniture, and all that, wouldn't you ? 
 Well, you shall. Fact is, we — Binkie and me — believe in 
 associating with all sorts of people, and s'long as they're nice 
 and agreeable, why there you are, you know. And I dessay 
 it would be a little bit of a treat to you to walk round and 
 look at — ah, here is Binkie. Sep, this is the Reverend 
 Yarboro — Reverend Yarboro, Mr. Septimus Binkie." 
 
i6 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 The gentlemen bowed, and then Mr. Binkie, giving a sHght 
 preliminary cough, sat down on the extreme edge of one of 
 the gorgeous satin-covered chairs, put both his fat little paws 
 on his knees, and said abruptly, and apropos of nothing — 
 " Would you like to see my pictures ? " 
 
 Mr. Yarboro looked slightly embarrassed for a second. Then 
 he said, in genial tones, that he " should be delighted to do so, 
 some day;" whereupon Mr. Binkie's supply of conversation 
 incontinently dried up, for the nonce. 
 
 Mrs. Binkie once more settled on the line of the district 
 notabilities, and quickly got to work again on the affable 
 Parson, who gave her every information in his power, and 
 all with a look of infinite amusement on his face. 
 
 Presently tea was brought in, and, warmed by the cup 
 which cheers but not inebriates, Septimus again ventured 
 on giving tongue. 
 
 " Great hunting district, this, sir," he observed, dropping 
 his spoon on the floor. 
 
 "It is, I am glad to say," responded the reverend gentle- 
 man cheerfully. "I hope, Mr. Binkie, that you yourself are 
 a sportsman? " 
 
 Before the modest Septimus could put forth a disclaimer, 
 his better half struck in with — ■ 
 
 "Of course he is. That is, he enjoys all kinds of sports, 
 though he doesn't exactly go out to ride after the dogs — 
 hounds, I should say. But sport ! why I should think he did 
 like sport ! You should have seen him, twenty years ago, in 
 a skittle alley ! As to the knock-'em-downs, why, when we 
 were first married he'd come home with a regular armful 
 of cocoanuts." 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 17 
 
 V 
 
 Mr. Yarboro laughed pleasantly. 
 
 " Ah, I see. Not exactly the sport we get here, but the true 
 spirit evidently existing in him. Well, we shall hope to see 
 you out with the Duke's hounds before long. Have you any 
 horses yet? " 
 
 "Of course we have," replied the lady, bridling somewhat 
 at this question, which she took literally. '' Haven't you seen 
 my carriage about the village ? " 
 
 " Oh, ah, yes. I am afraid I hardly made myself clear. I 
 meant hunters, not harness horses." 
 
 " No, we haven't any jumping horses yet. My son, who has 
 just left Oxford — Oxford," repeated Mr. Binkie, for fear their 
 visitor might possibly not have heard, the first time, " he was 
 talking about a jumping horse " 
 
 "Hunter," said Mrs, Septimus, in a corrective tone. 
 
 "Hunter, I mean — yes, he was talking about getting one 
 last week. I don't know if he's thought any more about it or 
 not, I'm sure. Of course, he's able to do what he likes, you 
 know, sir. We don't limit 'im." 
 
 " He'll want some good horses. This country takes a good 
 deal of getting over." 
 
 " Oh, I don't suppose he'll want but one — that is, unless he 
 wishes to keep another for any friend as may be staying with 
 him," replied Mr. Binkie, who, in the innocence of his heart, 
 imagined that one horse could hunt five or six days a week. 
 
 "Well, anyhow," said the good-natured cleric, "if you 
 send the young gentleman out, tell him to come up to me at 
 the meet, and I'll do my best to put him in the way of seeing 
 some sport." 
 
 "And will you introduce him to the Dook?" broke in 
 
 H.H. C 
 
 r::^-- 
 
i8 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Mrs. Septimus, with more eagerness evident in her tone than 
 she had meant to show. " Will you now, Mr. Yarboro '? That 
 would be friendly of you. I suppose he — the Doolv, I mean — 
 I suppose he speaks to you when he meets you out ? — bound 
 to, though, as the parish clergyman." 
 
 " Yes. He always speaks to me when he sees me," smiled 
 the visitor, as he rose to go. " And one of these days I'll take 
 an opportunity of introducing your son to him. Good-day ; I 
 hope we shall meet again before long." And so saying, he 
 bowed himself out of the room, without having even been 
 introduced to poor Penelope, who had sat in silence through 
 the interview. Had Mrs. Binkie known that the Eeverend 
 Geoffry Yarboro was the Duke's nephew, she might not have 
 taken so much satisfaction to her heart as she did in saying to 
 her lord and master — 
 
 " Sep, I think we did well in offering to have him here to 
 dinner, and show him the pictures and the furniture. It'll be a 
 treat for him. These Parsons don't, as a rule, fare very well, 
 and I expect a good dinner'll make him very friendly to us. 
 They always speak well of the people they can get good meat 
 and drink out of, you may be sure. And the Dook, you see, 
 speaks to him when he sees him, although he is only a Parson. 
 That boy of ours must buy his hunting horse at once, and go 
 out with His Grace's pack. And the next thing for us to do, 
 after that, will be to give what Sir Thomas Fitzsquander calls 
 a hunt breakfast. Nothin' like that, he says, for making us 
 pop'lar in the county." 
 
 But as ' Sep ' was by this time comfortably asleep, Mrs, 
 Binkie's last few words were wasted on the empty air. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 MR. BINKIe's friends — MARMION, BY CAPULET. 
 
 It is only needful to mention to your friend that yoa are 
 looking out for a horse, in order to bring a perfect hail of 
 animals — most of them more or less unsuitable — to your door. 
 Your friend has told his friend, who has passed the informa- 
 tion on to a third ; then, as a river overflowing its banks and 
 spreading in all directions over the low-lying country around, 
 so does the news spread, even to the uttermost corners of the 
 land. No sooner had Travers Algernon Binkie intimated that 
 he wanted an animal to carry his twelve stone of goosefiesh to 
 hounds, than farmers, tradesmen, and dealers, both professional 
 and amateur, flocked to The Chase, turning up at all 
 imaginable hours, for the purpose of pressing their wares^ 
 mostly of the ' lame, the halt (string) , and the blind ' order — 
 upon his attention. 
 
 Farmer Wintercabbage had ridden over on a six-year old 
 which he had bred himself. It was clean on the legs, light in 
 the middle, badly ribbed up, and had never been over a fence 
 in its life, nor done any work — probably because it couldn't; 
 and the reason that he hadn't sold it before was that nobody 
 would buy it. This brute Travers declined. Mr. Karl Krack- 
 whipz, a sporting Pole, had sent his groom to show him a hunter 
 which he ' had no use for,' but as the groom had had a row 
 
 C 2 
 
20 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 with his master that same day he took his revenge upon him 
 by ' crabbing the deal,' coolly informing the intending 
 purchaser that the horse was unsound in his wind — which was 
 a lie. Mr. Jaggett, the dealer, had brought over no less than 
 four different animals without success. But some three or 
 four days after Mr. Yarboro's call, recorded in the last 
 chapter, one of the gorgeous men-servants came up to his 
 young master's bedroom (it was only 11.30 a.m., so, naturally 
 that gentleman was still seeking repose), and informed him 
 that a man in livery was waiting at the hall-door with a 
 horse from the Honourable Mr. Crocker's stables, for him to 
 see. Mr. Binkie, truth to tell, was hardly disposed to the 
 trying of new horses, for he had not gone to bed overnight till 
 very late, and the — the — er — well, the lemon in the whisky 
 and water had caused his head to ache and his mouth to feel 
 like the back of a Latin Grammar this morning. But with a 
 mighty effort he pulled himself together, and feebly murmured 
 that if the groom would wait half-an-hour, he would be down 
 and look at the animal. The man, with a pitying smile, left 
 the room just as Mr. Jack Dashwood entered it. 
 
 "What, ho, my merry Travers," he exclaimed, "rather 
 thick-in-the-clear to-day ? Got a kick in your gallop, eh ? 
 Buck up, my gay and festive sportsman, never say die ; you'll 
 be as right as rain when you've had a dash at the tub, and a 
 strong Bohea." 
 
 Travers, from under the bedclothes, groaned feebly. His 
 friend's hilarity was extremely displeasing to him under the 
 circumstances. One always does feel more or less injured 
 when somebody else is extremely well, and we ourselves are 
 ' feeling like death.' 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 21 
 
 Jack then proceeded to ignite a peculiarly strong-smelling 
 cigar, the first whiff of which roused the unhappy Travers to 
 action. With a supreme effort he dashed off the clothes and 
 rushed into his dressing-room, bolting the door after him. 
 Mr. Dashwood blew a portentous cloud of smoke up to the 
 ceiling, and then said to himself — 
 
 "Feels a little private this morning; evidently a trifle 
 squiffy about the wiffle- waffles. Ah, well, he'll be all right 
 again in about an hour's time, I daresay. Meantime I'll go 
 and hunt up the more or less worthy Sir Thomas, and then 
 we'll go down and inspect Crocker's gee-gee." 
 
 Jack Dashwood and Sir Thomas Fitzsquander had each 
 brought a couple of hunters down with them, which they were 
 keeping at their host's expense, an arrangement which suited 
 these two mercurial young gentlemen admirably, as, with all 
 the capacity for enjoyment, and the most expensive tastes in 
 life, their pockets were almost invariably empty, and the race 
 of Hebraic money-lenders already knew them well. In fact, 
 round about the vicinity of Cork Street they were distinctly 
 better known than trusted. Both had arrived at ' man's 
 estate,' but neither, so far, at any other. Although they had 
 only just left Oxford, they had ' forgotten as much as most 
 people know ' of the ways of le monde qui s' amuse, and were 
 altogether very acute youths indeed. 
 
 To say that Mr. Travers Algernon Binkie knew nothing 
 about horseflesh (except as retailed on little sticks, for the 
 benefit of the feline race) w^ould be putting the matter in 
 almost too mild a light. His ignorance on this subject might 
 be described as stately, and his two very excellent friends 
 were, we may be sure, not slow to profit by it when they saw 
 
22 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 a chance; so, in 'assisting' him to buy a hunter, they took 
 particular care that the animal should be one which would suit 
 their own riding tastes. They were, moreover, quite open to 
 any chance that should offer itself, to pick up, like Autolycus 
 of old, any ' unconsidered trifle ' in the way of commission on 
 a deal. Mutual jealousy of each other's proclivities in this 
 respect had resulted in a sort of tacit agreement between 
 Jack and Sir Tommy, that neither should try to sell Binkie 
 a horse without letting the other share the spoil ; and up to 
 this period, not having seen any animal which either fancied 
 for his own riding, they had amused themselves by ' crabbing ' 
 everyone of those brought to The Chase for inspection. 
 
 Still feeling very ' rocky,' as Mr. Dash wood expressed it, 
 our young friend Travers Algernon struggled down to the 
 front door in forty-five minutes from the time when he had 
 got out of bed. He was there joined by his two guests, both 
 clad in check suits of somewhat alarming pattern. 
 
 A rare good-looking chestnut horse was being gently walked 
 up and down the carriage drive, and both Sir Thomas and 
 Jack fell in love with him on the spot. A rapid wink passed 
 between these worthies, and then they began the usual leg- 
 handling, fault-finding, disparagement-cum-faint-praise, which 
 is customary on examining a horse offered for sale, be he 
 good, bad, or indifferent. 
 
 " Get on him, Travers, my boy ! " exclaimed Sir Tommy. 
 
 Travers feebly shook his head. His nerves were not yet 
 attuned to that performance. 
 
 " Had to put your hat on with a shoe-horn, old chap, 
 didn't you ? Ah, well, that state of affairs doesn't make 
 you ' wentursome,' as your groom calls it. Well, shall I get 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 23 
 
 on the beggar's back, and show off his paces, eh ? " And not 
 waiting for assent, Mr. Jack Dash wood signed to the attendant 
 groom to keep his charge still whilst he got into the saddle. 
 
 Now, to do him justice, Mr. Jack could ride ' above a bit,' 
 and as he drew the reins through the fingers of his left hand, 
 and felt his horse gently with his heel, instinct told him that 
 he was on a good one. After trotting him slowly up the path, 
 he turned to the groom and asked — 
 
 MAEMION, BY CAPULET. 
 
 "Would Mr. Crocker let me lark him over a fence or two, 
 do you think? " 
 
 The groom touched his hat, as he promptly replied — 
 
 " Certainly, sir. The master said as 'ow nothing Mr. 
 Binkie could ride him over would do the 'orse any 'arm." 
 
 Whereat Mr. Dashwood grinned slyly at Sir Tommy, and 
 Sir Tommy ' winked the other eye ' at Mr. Dashwood ; but the 
 point of the observation, fortunately for Mr. Binkie's vanity, 
 was not understood by that young gentleman. 
 
24 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Taking advantage of this permission by proxy, as it were, 
 Jack Dashwood, catching the horse by the head, turned him at 
 the low post and rails running between the carriage drive 
 and the meadow. Gathering his hind legs well under him, 
 the chestnut shot himself clear of the timber, and well into 
 the field beyond. Indeed, he would have easily cleared a ten- 
 foot ditch in addition, had there been one on the landing side. 
 His hind leverage was remarkable, and Jack was delighted. 
 He cantered him across the meadow, jumping a brush fence 
 into the field beyond ; then circling round on the homeward 
 track again, he took him steadily at a medium-sized brook 
 within sight of his two friends. At this obstacle the animal 
 acquitted himself equally well, and as Jack pulled him up 
 on the far-side of the rails, the horse lightly blowing the hot 
 breath from his dilated nostrils, the two young men on foot 
 thought him a perfect picture. 
 
 Jack slipped off his back as the groom ran up to his head. 
 Taking Travers Algernon aside, he said — 
 
 " Travers, my son, you must buy him ; you really must. 
 
 He'll carry me you, I mean, beautifully to hounds. I'll 
 
 I should say, you'll show 'em all the way, on a horse like this. 
 He pulls a bit, but " 
 
 " Oh, really ! but I don't like a puller," exclaimed Mr. Binkie. 
 
 "Oh yes, you do," answered Jack with an air of authority 
 that could not be gainsaid, "this sort of puller, you do. He 
 only gets hold of you properly ; not a ramping, tearing beast 
 at all ; his power behind is wonderful ; when he Jumps it feels 
 as if he were going to lift you smack over a town." 
 
 " Oh, but I shouldn't like that at all, you know ! " exclaimed 
 Travers Algernon in alarmed tones. " I " 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 25 
 
 " Yes, yon would," answered his mentor, in a most impres- 
 sive manner. " Yes, you would ; it's not an up-in-the-air-and- 
 down-again action ; it's not that sort of thing at all ; just a 
 nice hoist" — (Mr. Binkie winced) — "just a nice hoist of his 
 quarters, which really gives one confidence that he'll clear his 
 fences in safety. You leave it to me, my gay young antelope ; 
 this is the horse for your money. By-the-way, you haven't 
 opened the letter Crocky sent you. That'll probably tell you 
 the price he asks." 
 
 Thus incited, Mr. Binkie breaks the envelope which he has 
 held all this time in his flabby hands, and reads as under — 
 
 "Weeds Hall, 
 
 " December loth. 
 
 " Deae Sir, 
 
 "Hearing that you were looking out for a really good 
 
 hunter, I send you one to see and try, if you like so to do. 
 
 My sole reason for selling him is that I am overstocked just at 
 
 present. The horse — Marmion, by Capulet, out of a good 
 
 hunting mare — is an admirable fencer, seven years old, and to 
 
 the best of my belief as sound as a bit of gun-metal. The 
 
 price is only £120, and I venture to think him dirt cheap at 
 
 the money. 
 
 " Faithfully yours, 
 
 " Aechibald Crocker. 
 "T. A. Binkie, Esq., Junr." 
 
 Mr. Binkie hummed and ha'd. He didn't want to appear 
 too eager ; it would look as if he had never bought a horse 
 before — as the fact was. For want of something more original 
 to say, he presently asked the groom — 
 
 " Would he go in harness '? " 
 
26 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 That smart menial smiled pityingly, as he replied — 
 
 " Om' 'unters, sir, are not wanted for any 'arness 
 work. We've got a old screw or two which we puts in 
 when we wants to rmi a cart to the station, or the meets, 
 or anywheres," 
 
 " Oh, really," replied our friend, in his weak falsetto voice. 
 He didn't in the least know what ' patting an old screw in 
 a cart ' meant. Probably some new method of propelling a 
 motor-car, he thought to himself. 
 
 " Offer eighty for him," suggested Sir Tommy. 
 
 "No, no, that's no good," chimed in Jack. "Look here, 
 dear boy, I'll go over to Crocky and see if I can beat him 
 down a bit, eh ? You get your father to sign a cheque — a 
 blank cheque, you know, and I'll get the beggar as cheap as 
 I can. How does that idea strike you ? " 
 
 Mr. Binkie Junior readily assented, except that he didn't 
 give Jack the cheque. The horse was then despatched back 
 again, and the groom charged with a message to the Honour- 
 able, that Mr. Binkie's friend, Mr. Dashwood, would drive 
 over and see the owner of the good-looking chestnut in an 
 hour's time. 
 
 Punctually to the appointed period. Jack dashed up to 
 the gates of Weeds Hall, as Mr. Crocker's place was called, 
 and found that gentleman — this being a non-hunting day — 
 standing on his own doorstep waiting to receive him. 
 
 They went into the house and sat down. No time was 
 wasted in preliminaries, and the two gentlemen got to business 
 without delay. 
 
 "Does he mean to buy ? " said the Honourable, coming to 
 the point at once. 
 
i 
 
 Jack tries the Chestnut. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 27 
 
 Jack nodded assent. Then he added — 
 
 "At a price, you know." 
 
 " I won't take any less. A hundred-and-twenty is dirt 
 cheap for that horse." 
 
 " Say eighty." 
 
 " Not a copper less than a hundred-and-twenty," rejoined 
 the owner firmly. 
 
 " Then I'm afraid it's no deal." 
 
 " Now, cards on the table, you want your bit out of it, 
 I supj)ose, eh? " 
 
 Jack tried to look affronted. Then, thinking better of it, 
 he said — 
 
 " Leave me a reasonable margin, and we'll trade." 
 
 " Ten '? " 
 
 "No fear. Say thirty." 
 
 " No. Tell you what I will do, though. I'll sell the horse 
 
 to you at ninety guineas," he added, detecting a satisfied 
 
 twinkle in Jack's eye; "and then you can sell him to your 
 friend. What do you think of that '? " 
 
 " Make it ," began Mr. Dashwood. 
 
 " Not a farthing less. Take it or leave it," said Mr. Crocker 
 decidedly. 
 
 And seeing that he was not likely to make any better terms 
 for himself, Jack agreed, and the bargain was ratified and 
 liquefied at one and the same time. 
 
 " You can have the horse as soon as you pay me the 
 money. Not by cheque, please — hate cheques " (the fact 
 being that the Honourable knew Mr. Jack Dashwood by 
 repute, and was determined only to part wdth his horse against 
 solid coin or crisp banknotes). 
 
28 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Jack sighed. This want of confidence struck at the very 
 root of his commercial prosperity. However, he couldn't help 
 himself, and agreed to produce the money on the following 
 day. Then he took leave of the Honourable Archibald, 
 climbed up into his — or, more correctly speaking, into Mr. 
 Binkie's — dogcart, and prepared to return. 
 
 " He's sound, of course ? You'll warrant him " 
 
 "What?" 
 
 " Sound wind and eyes. Good hunter, in fact ? " 
 
 " I'll warrant him sound wind and eyes. Yes, I'll do that." 
 
 "Well then, I'll be off;" and nodding a farewell. Jack 
 drew the reins through his fingers, chirruped to the fat, solid- 
 looking beast in the shafts, and drove away down the avenue 
 and through the lodge-gate on his way back to The Chase. 
 
 Going along, he had plenty of time to think over what he 
 would say to his friend, and to consider how much he could 
 reasonably hope to screw out of him. This was but a small 
 transaction, and the profits would be in proportion. However, 
 thought Mr. Dashwood, ' httle fish are sweet,' and in the 
 near future, perhaps, he would get some better chance of 
 conveying a profit to his own pocket. Jack invariably spoke 
 of this process as ' trousering it.' 
 
 As the wheel of the dogcart crunched the gravel outside 
 The Chase again, Mr. Binkie Junior, accompanied, rather to 
 Jack's annoyance, by Sir Tommy, came round the shrubbery. 
 
 "Well?" said the former; "how much did you have to 
 give for him ? " 
 
 "Oh, most obdurate brute, this Crocker; wouldn't take a 
 
 ha'penny less than ," here ensued a momentary pause, 
 
 whilst Jack gave a last fleeting thought as to how much 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHI RE HUNT. 29 
 
 bleeding Binlde ^YOuld stand — "than a hundred-and-fifteen 
 guineas, and point blank refused to keep the offer open whilst 
 I communicated \Yith you. He said he had another man 
 waiting at the stables with that money in his hand, ready to 
 take the horse away." 
 
 "Eeally!" came the squeaky voice, in somewhat dis- 
 appointed tones. " So you lost him ? '.' 
 
 ' ' On the contrary, I bought him — then and there — had to 
 pay for him, too. And all in the sacred cause of friendship," 
 he added airily, with one eye on Binkie and the other on the 
 hawk-like countenance of Sir Thomas. 
 
 Sir Thomas shook his head and winked his eye — imper- 
 ceptibly to Binkie, but plainly understood by Jack, who 
 dropped his whipstock into the bucket with a bang, in order 
 to hide his annoyance, and got out of the cart. 
 
 " So the horse is yours, my fine buck," he said, passing his 
 arm through that of Travers Algernon, and leading him into 
 the house, " and I think you'll find him one of the flyers of 
 the hunt." 
 
 Mr. Binkie Junior didn't know what that meant, but 
 thought it sounded nice. 
 
 " I'll go to Pa and get 3'ou a cheque, then, shall I ? " bleated 
 the hope of the Binkies. 
 
 " So do, my boy, so do. Short reckonings, eh ? ?/o(tknow." 
 Binkie didn't know, but waddled off", as well as his fat little 
 legs and tight trousers permitted, to the paternal sanctum for 
 the cheque. 
 
 Now it may have been a matter for wonderment all this 
 time, why neither of these astute gentlemen had sold one of 
 his own animals to his excellent friend. The reason is not 
 
30 
 
 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 far to seek, though an explanation is certainly due. All the 
 beasts in question were taken from Watson, on the hire system, 
 and being rare old stagers, warranted not to go fast enough 
 to make themselves warm, were not for sale even by the real 
 owner. Such animals, though not, as a rule, worth five-and- 
 twenty pounds apiece, are invaluable for the purpose of the 
 lessors of hack hunters. It is very hard for the most reckless 
 of equestrians to override them : the horses themselves so 
 greatly object to the process. 
 
 As soon as their host was out of sight and hearing, Sir 
 Tommy casually observed to -Tack — 
 
 " What are you nicking out of this '? " 
 
 The other stared vacantly at him, as though he had not 
 understood. 
 
 "Nicking? I don't understand you," he said in reply. 
 
 " Oh yes, you do ! How much was the commission ? " 
 
 "There was none. Didn't you hear me say that I bought 
 the horse " 
 
 " And paid forhini/eh? Where'd you get the money to 
 pay for him? " 
 
 " Eeally, I don't see what that has to do with you." 
 
 "Well, I do. Come, chuck it. Jack, what's the good of 
 playing innocent like this ? I'm going to have my corner in 
 the profits, so don't make any mistake about that. How 
 much did you make on it, now ? " 
 
 "Only a miserable tenner," answered Jack sulkily. 
 
 " That cock won't fight. Well, I shall just ride over to 
 Weeds Hall this afternoon, and see Crocker, if you won't tell 
 the truth. It won't take me long to find out the game. But 
 if you take my advice, you'll own up, and shell out." 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 31 
 
 " Did you ever hear of a certain Shakesperian character 
 called Shylock? " enquired Mr. Dasliwood with lofty scorn. 
 
 " Yes. Did you ever come across a gentleman of the name 
 of Ananias? " retorted Sir Tomm}^ 
 
 And how this interesting controversy eventuated, none will 
 ever know except the parties most concerned, for at that 
 precise moment in came Travers Algernon with the cheque. 
 In due course that interesting document was ' melted ' and 
 the proceeds paid to the gentlemen who had sold, and 
 negotiated the sale of Marmion by Capulet, which proud 
 animal thereupon came to dwell in The Chase stables and 
 wear the Binkie horse-clothing. 
 
 " And thankgord 'e's gone," piously ejaculated the head 
 man at the Weeds establishment, as he watched the great, 
 banging chestnut walk jauntily away, swaddled up in cloths, 
 
 hood, and bandages. "A good 'orse, too, but , well, 
 
 there ! " and a world of meaning was convej^ed in those two 
 last words. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MARMION TAKES MR. BINRIB OUT WITH HOUNDS. 
 
 " CocKiE," shouted Jack Dash wood in cheery tones, bursting 
 into the sleeping apartment of Mr. Binkie Junior on the 
 morning following the advent of the new hunter to the stables 
 of The Chase, " the hounds — the Duke's, you know — meet 
 within two miles of here at eleven o'clock to-day. You must 
 come out and try the new beastie." 
 
 Travers Algernon sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes 
 sleepily. 
 
 " Oh, really ! I don't think I'll go to-day, Jack. I want 
 to ride the horse quietly about the roads first, and see how I 
 like him, and see if he's quiet, and see if " 
 
 "Skittles! 'Faint heart never succeeded with lovely 
 wumman,' as says the Bard. Tommy and I are both 
 going, so you must come." Then he roared at the top of his 
 voice — 
 
 We must go a-liunting to-day ! 
 We must go a-hunting to-daj' ! 
 For we'll join the glad throng 
 And we'll allez vous oiig, 
 But we must go a-hunting to-day ! 
 
 "Come, out you get, Trousers! " ('Trousers' was the nick- 
 name by which Mr. Binkie had been known at Oxford, on 
 account of the conspicuous tightness of those garments.) " I'll 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 33 
 
 look after you like a father. It'll do your liver all the good in 
 the world — shake off the wifty-woffy feeling that those overnight 
 thirsts of yours always seem to create. Hout yer come ! " 
 and with a vigorous tug he hauled the bedclothes off his 
 recumbent friend, and then beat a hasty retreat to the door 
 in order to avoid the possibility of reprisals. 
 
 Thus adjured, Travers Algernon, suppressing a ' cuss- word,' 
 grumblingly got out of bed, and walked across the room to 
 look out of the window. The prospect was reassuring ; the day 
 was warm and sunny ; everything looked bright and green. 
 He had felt for some time past that he must soon make the 
 plunge of appearing at covert-side for the first time, if he ever 
 meant to hunt at all. As well now, as later on. And he 
 certainly did want a chance of showing oft" the gorgeous new 
 scarlet coat which Smallpage had sent home about a month 
 ago ; — yes, and the white cord breeches bearing Tautz's magic 
 name; — ah, and those lovely top-boots ! Yes, he would do and 
 dare, to-day. The chestnut should bear him gallantly on — not 
 too gallantly, but just gallantly enough, he said to himself, as 
 a sort of mental reservation, for Travers was a prudent youth 
 when his own safety was concerned. At all events, he would 
 just ride out to the meet, potter about, hunt — if the spirit 
 moved him-^and come back home, up some muddy lanes, so 
 as to get plenty of splashes on his boots and breeches, if he 
 didn't feel equal to really ' going ' with hounds. 
 
 Yes, he thought, he actually would do this to-day; then, ever 
 thereafter, he would be able to tell his female acquaintances 
 that he ' hunted with the Duke of Haughtj^shire's hounds.' 
 It sounded sweet music in his ears. So, ringing the bell for 
 his man, he told him to send to the stables to say he would 
 
 H.H. D 
 
34 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 have his chestnut horse saddled and at the door by 10.30. 
 With much pain, he managed, under instruction by his man, 
 to get into the snowy white breeches and top-boots, fastened 
 on his spurs with the buckles inside — an error which was 
 fortunately seen and rectified by his invaluable servant — and 
 then he proceeded to struggle into the yards of spotless 
 cambric which were to encircle his throat. Five minutes 
 later, Mr. Binkie strode stiffly down the stairs, the clonk, 
 clonk, of his long-necked spurs sounding most satisfactorily 
 in his ears. Yes, he was ' going to give the girls a treat ' 
 when they saw him in this ' get-up,' and no mistake ! 
 
 Jack Dashwood, who, with Sir Tommy, was seated at the 
 table already, and demolishing eggs, ham, and game-pie at a 
 pace which threatened sudden death to any one not blessed 
 with the digestion of an ostrich, gave vent, as his host appeared, 
 to a 'view holloa,' which would have put a Thames foghorn 
 to the blush. 
 
 " ' Hail, all hail, my sucking Nimrod ! ' as the cove says in 
 the play, or if he doesn't, he ought to, anyway. Sit down and 
 make yourself at home ; don't mind me ! " he exclaimed, 
 kindly welcoming Binkie to his own table. "Have a devilled 
 kidney and mushroom ? " 
 
 Mr. Binkie made a somewhat light breakfast, to tell the 
 truth. Much as he desired the kudos of hunting, it was not 
 without a certain amount of misgiving that he entered upon 
 his first day of it. Still, he made up for his lack of appetite 
 by what Jack called a strict attention to his drinkytite, and 
 fortified by the 'jumping powder,' and also by the fact that 
 his two very knowing young friends would be with him at his 
 (Uhit, Trousers was feeling fairly confident when the horses 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHI RE HUNT. 35 
 
 were brought round from the stables, and the trio proceeded 
 to mount. 
 
 " Whoa-o-o, my trim-built ^Yherry ! " cried Mr. Jack, as he 
 caught hold of his horse's mane, and made Avild dives at the 
 dangling stirrup-iron with his foot. "If j'ou're not, strictly 
 speaking, a trim-built wherry, you're at least werry trim-built," 
 he added, as he swung himself into his saddle. "Buck up. 
 Trousers, and mount gentty, or I'm hanged if you won't split 
 that elegant pair of Tautz's, and ' what would the robins do 
 then, poor things ? ' I think he's made 'em a bit too Tautz. 
 Now, Tommy, are you going to be all the morning learning that 
 new pastime of dancing round on one toe with the other in the 
 stirrup ? Here, what are the rules ? Can't we play this 
 game, too ? don't keep a good thing all to yourself, you know ; " 
 and amid a running fire of the facetious Dashwood's chaft", the 
 friends eventually settled down in their saddles, and were 
 fairly under way. 
 
 The behaviour of the new acquisition was all that could 
 possibly be desired. Marmion, by Capulet, walked along 
 between the two 'hirelings,' as sober as a judge, and certainly 
 looking the gentleman of the party. Trousers was pro- 
 portionately proud. He even started a mild cigarette on the 
 strength of it. 
 
 After a short ride through devious lanes, and across one 
 grass field, the trio turned out of a gateway by a pond, and 
 found themselves facing a crowd of mounted si^ortsmen and 
 women, standing or walking about around a small, triangular 
 piece of grass, in the centre of which stood a battered and 
 wholly useless signpost. At the far side of the road was a little 
 public-house, with a signboard idly swaying to-and-fro in the 
 
 D 2 
 
36 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 light morning breeze. Servants were walking hunters about 
 a little farther up one of the lanes converging on the piece 
 of grass, and everyone was chatting amicably to his immediate 
 neighbour, when our three friends appeared on the gay little 
 scene. At almost the same moment, the Huntsman, with the 
 jjack all about his horse's heels, trotted round the corner of 
 the opposite lane, and a general move took place as the cry of 
 "Hounds, gentlemen, please, hounds!" caused everyone to 
 sidle his horse out of the way. The pack was soon on the 
 green, some of the hounds lying down, some taking a roll over, 
 whilst cries from the Whips of " Steady there, Prodigal ! " 
 "Have a care. Harmony!" rose over the voices discussing 
 the merits and demerits of the last good run, and the price of 
 Piussian oats, as compared with the home-grown and Scotch 
 article, and completely snuffed out Mrs. Barege's sneering 
 comments upon the cut of Miss Comely' s new habit. 
 
 Almost before Sir Tommy had had time to direct his most 
 languishing glance at Miss Comely's pretty face and figure, a 
 further commotion announced the arrival of the Duke of 
 Haughtyshire, driving a splendidly appointed mail phaeton 
 with yellow wheels, bright steel pole chains, and drawn by a 
 pair of hog-maned, bay cobs, which the Duke gave (or owed) 
 six hundred guineas for. 
 
 To be quite candid respecting that most excellent noble- 
 man, he was just a trifle — what shall we call it ? — well, 
 vague, respecting ready-money payments, and but for his 
 eldest son and heir, Lord Gravity, who kept his respected 
 father straight, not only in financial matters, but also at 
 the shrine of Cupid, where the Duke was an ardent devotee, 
 things might have ' gone sideways ' at the Castle. Lord 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. ^j 
 
 Gravity was not a sportsman, but he was a very good fellow 
 for all that. He had inherited his mother's serious and 
 sombre temperameiU ; was (fortunately for the estate) a born 
 man of business, and took as much real pleasure in improving 
 and keeping up the farms and cottages as his noble parent 
 did in the chase — of either fox or female. Of the present 
 holder of the ancient title, and of the ^presumptive one, it 
 might fairly be said that each had his use, in his own 
 particular place ; and although so utterly dissimilar, no father 
 and son could have had more real affection for each other. 
 However the hunt servants were mounted, Lord Gravity was 
 always ready to pay (for he had supreme control of the 
 Castle establishment finances) any money for the Duke's 
 own hunters, in order that he should be carried well and 
 safely to hounds. 
 
 With a clatter of the steel pole-chains and a rattle of 
 wheels, the noble M.F.H. drew up at the side of the road, and 
 dropping his whip into the bucket, raised his hat with the air 
 of a Sir Charles Grandison, in acknowledgment of the cloud of 
 hats raised to himself, and the chorus of " Good-mornings " 
 which gave him greeting. He was an immensely popular 
 man, and he knew it, and honestly rejoiced in the knowledge. 
 
 A smart servant in the Ducal livery, at once brought a neat, 
 but rather small hunter alongside his Grace's carriage, and 
 the Duke, standing up, allowed his outer garments, a heavily 
 furred cloak and a soft silk muffler, to fall and slip away 
 from him, emerging in all the glory of ' pink ' and spotless 
 leathers. Casting a critical eye over the cleverly-built chest- 
 nut, he put his leg across him and was settled into his saddle 
 in a moment. Small as the horse was, standing something 
 
38 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 under 15.2, he had taken three or four prizes in open jumping 
 competitions, and had a county-wide repute as a cross-country 
 performer. The Duke owed four hundred and fifty for him. 
 
 Five minutes more law having been allowed for the late 
 comers, the noble Master draws his watch from his pocket, 
 glances swiftly at it, and then by a quiet nod to the Huntsman, 
 gives the signal to move off. Away goes the whole cavalcade, 
 the second Whip leading the way with a dropped thong in front 
 of the most impetuous of the pack ; then the main body of the 
 hounds, surrounding the Huntsman's horse on all sides. The 
 first Whip, Tom Tribe, with two of the hunt-servants as second 
 horsemen, follow ; then comes the Duke, chatting with his 
 nephew, the Reverend Geoffry Yarboro, on his left hand, 
 whilst Lady Lucy Silverton, one of the acknowledged London 
 beauties of the past season, rides on his right. The rest of 
 the field followed in close order, in straggling order, and in 
 no order at all ; the extreme rear guard consisting of Nobbs, 
 the colt-breaker, on a rough-coated, nondescript thing with a 
 pony head, immense quarters and no shoulder at all — he was 
 riding it with a big smooth ring snaffle, martingale (which alone 
 prevented the brute knocking his rider's brains out when he 
 threw up his head), no spurs, and a small ground ash stick; 
 Hacker, the sporting butcher, on one that had been given a 
 holiday from the cart for the purpose ; and a round dozen 
 of second horsemen and pad grooms. At that ever-to-be- 
 execrated pace, a 'hound's jog,' away they all went, bobbing 
 up and down, black and red mixed up in sweet confusion, 
 until a general throwing up of hands and hunting-crops, and 
 a chorus of ' hold hards ' proclaimed the fact that they had 
 arrived in the vicinity of the first covert they were to draw. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 39 
 
 All this time, the new chestnut, ridden by Mr. Binkie, with 
 his toes turned well out, and his elbows squared in what he 
 imagined to be a sporting attitude, had behaved in a most 
 
 NOBBS, THE COLT-BREAKER. 
 
 exemplary fashion. He had jogged along ever}^ whit as 
 quietly as the well-worn hirelings bestridden by his two 
 Eingnose friends, and Sir Tommy had looked on, somewhat 
 wonderingly, at the performance. He had satisfied himself 
 from the outset that if the horse was not unsound — and he 
 
40 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 didn't appear to be — that he must in some way be a ' wrong 
 'un ' v;ith hounds, or the Honourable would not have sold 
 such a rare good mover at the price. 
 
 Dropping back, and * tipping the wink ' to Mr. Jack Dash- 
 wood to do the same, the Baronet said to him in an undertone, 
 as he indicated the chestnut with a slight nod of his head — 
 
 " Can't quite make this out, can you ? Seems quite quiet — 
 doesn't do anything — half thought he'd stand up when he got 
 into the crowd, but he really seems as quiet as a sheep. We 
 know he can jump and gallop, too " 
 
 " Perhaps he can go, but can't go on," hazarded Jack. 
 " However, if we find a fox here, and he runs towards the 
 vale, we shall soon see. There's some holding meadows there, 
 not to mention the big bottoms we'll have to jump, which'll 
 stop any horse with a weak spot anywhere about him." 
 
 " SupjDose Trousers breaks his neck ? " 
 
 *' Or more important still, the horse's back ? " 
 
 " Oh, don't be so unfeeling. I'm not thinking about the 
 horse, but about " 
 
 "That I.O.U. for a pony he gave you last night? Well, 
 yes, that is a consideration, isn't it ? Never mind, we'll hope 
 for the best. Hullo ! what was that "? " 
 
 For a faint whimper, undecided at first, but quickly swelling 
 into something of more importance, had broken upon their 
 ears. Then, silence again ; once more the note is borne to 
 them on the soft bj'eeze, and now it is taken up by several of 
 the hounds. A noise as of crackling, breaking dead under- 
 wood, a "toot, toot" on Will's horn, and then a general 
 scramble to get through a small hand-gate, cigars thrown 
 away, hats pressed down on heads, and that suppressed smile 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 41 
 
 of triumph on the faces of all men, a smile which takes the 
 place of, and has to act as a poor, weak substitute for, the yell 
 of delight which the whole of frail human nature would like to 
 indulge in when the glorious truth is borne in upon it, and 
 it murmurs in ecstatic tones — 
 
 "Thcifve found/// " 
 
 Yes, the Duke of Haughtyshire's hounds had found ; found, 
 as the event proved, as good a fox as lived that side of the 
 country. All present who were bold enough and well mounted 
 enough to ride the line, were ' in for a good thing.' 
 
 " Toot, toot, toot ! " goes Will's horn. " Toot, toot ! " goes 
 His Grace's, and the hounds come tumbling out of covert 
 with a burning eagerness which augurs well for ever3-one 
 concerned, except the fox. 
 
 "Hold hard a minute, hold hard, gentlemen, please," 
 exclaims Will. " Let 'em get their heads down — half a 
 minute, sir !" They quickly stoop to it and feather along — 
 " tow, yow, yow ! " they all speak in chorus, and, then away 
 they go — no stopping to feel the way now, but, to a breast- 
 high scent they race, rollicking away, over a fine piece of 
 old pasture-land, bounded by a strong thorn fence on the 
 far side. 
 
 " That'll hold some of ye ! " mutters Will, as giving an 
 encouraging Job on his horse's ribs, with the big end of his 
 horn, he turns for a moment, in his saddle, to find if Tom 
 Tribe is anywhere near at hand. Then, not seeing him, he 
 thrusts the horn into the breast of his coat, and catching 
 his horse by the head, rams him at the weakest part of the 
 fence in front. 
 
 "Hold up, 'oss !" as he gets over with a slight 'peck' 
 
42 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 on the lancling side. Away he goes agam, watching his 
 hounds with ecstasy as, carrying a magnificent head, they 
 stream hke a flock of pigeons over the next meadow. 
 
 Very httle behind the Huntsman comes the Duke. His neat 
 httle hunter jumps the thorn fence without the semblance of 
 an effort, and His Grace turns to see that Miss Comely, to 
 whom he had been speaking when they found, gets safely 
 over. This duty accomplished, the Duke banishes all thought 
 of what Jack Dashwood calls ' lovely wummun ' from his 
 mind, and sits down in his saddle to ride. 
 
 The main body of the field follow over, mostly crashing 
 through the weak places which have been still further 
 reduced in size by the ' tunnelling ' process to which they 
 have been subjected on the part of the bolder and more 
 forward spirits of the hunt. Half-a-dozen are either down, 
 or their horses have refused. Commander Clump K.N., 
 whose stable is a curious collection of the most outrageous 
 screws extant, is see-sawing ' 'twixt the Devil and the deep 
 sea ' over a piece of timber run through the hedge at a 
 weak spot. Whether the gallant old Tar, whose pluck alone 
 gets him across country on the wretches he bestrides, will 
 fall into this field, or the one out of which he has jumped, 
 still remains a matter of doubt. Then come a few of the 
 second horsemen, and the butcher. Nobbs gets his young'un 
 over — not without a reminder from the ash plant — and then, 
 with the exception of the fallers and refusers, together with 
 a few foot people, the meadow is left to its former solitary 
 condition again. 
 
 But where, all this time, are our three friends, lately of 
 Eingnose College '? — thereby hangs a tale. 
 
MARMION ' TAKES CHARGE.' 
 

THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 45 
 
 At the outset Mr. Binkie, owing either to a naturally 
 retiring disposition, or the fact that some of his newborn 
 confidence in his horse had been just a little upset by 
 sundry shakes of the head, and snatches at the bridle when 
 hounds found, had endeavoured to keep himself as much 
 as possible in the background. He had already lost sight 
 of his two friends, who, as a matter of fact, had both 
 forgotten their promise of ' keeping an eye ' on their host, 
 and gone away in the ruck ; and his one great desire was 
 to keep out of the crowd and avoid, by every means in 
 his power, any obstacle exceeding a foot in height. That 
 Travers Algernon Binkie, and Travers Algernon Binkie's 
 horse, were not in strict accord in this matter, was certainly 
 a thing to be deplored, and though, up to this point, the rider 
 had, somehow, contrived to control the ridden, ' Trousers ' 
 was now being eloquently warned that such a state of affairs 
 could continue no longer. The headshakings, borings, and 
 reachings, grew more and more emphatic, as Marmion by 
 Capulet, realized that his compeers were passing him and 
 rapidly going away, until at last, after a threat at rearing, 
 with a wild snatch at the reins, which almost pulled his 
 rider over his head, away he went ' as if the Devil had 
 kicked him.' Blinded by the tears which streamed down 
 his cheeks from the pace at which they were going, Binkie 
 found himself within three lengths of the black-looking thorn 
 fence, almost before he had had time to realize his position. 
 With a hollow groan, he clutched at the pommel of his 
 saddle, and prepared to meet his fate. Although the horse 
 had bolted, the animal was by no means a fool, and instead 
 of charging the fence in the high part exactly opposite to 
 
46 
 
 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 him, he turned sharply aside for a sHghtly lower place, over 
 which he went with a swish. The swerve would inevitably 
 have unseated poor Binkie, but for his tight grip (with his 
 hands) on the saddle. As it was, he found himself still 
 ' there ' as they landed, but minus his hat — brushed off 
 his head by some straggling top-thorns — and his crop, 
 caught by a binder, and dragged forcibly out of his hand. 
 Finding his mouth free, the horse shook his head at the 
 unlooked-for liberty he was enjoying, and then fairly laid 
 himself out to gallop. Before they had crossed two more 
 small fields with straggling and weak hedges, through 
 which he went as if nothing was there, the flying Marmion 
 had overtaken the half-dozen rearmost horses. These he 
 went past, like a shot out of a gun. A somewhat wide 
 interval separated him from the next brigade, and when 
 he reached them, they were toiling over a small ploughed 
 field, down to an open gateway. The Honourable Mrs. 
 Joggletilt was first through this, of the group, but Marmion 
 was close on her track. With a rush like that of an insane 
 steam-engine, he tore past several to whom he should, rightly, 
 have given way, and galloped up against Mrs. Joggletilt with 
 such force that had not that lady been on her enormous weight 
 carrying grey, and she herself almost the ' welter ' of the whole 
 hunt, he must inevitably have sent her head-over-heels. As it 
 was, the impact was so violent, that it knocked her horse out 
 of its stride, and the irate lady half off her saddle. Bcimj a 
 lady, of course there was no blue halo of bad language around 
 her, but if looks could have l^een felt through the shoulder- 
 blades of the offender, Travers Algernon would have fallen, 
 pierced as surely as he could have been with lance or spear. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 47 
 
 ' On, Marmion, on ! ' — to take a slight liberty with the poet 
 of Abbotsford — and away he went across another grass-field ; 
 half jumped, half crashed through a weak flight of post and 
 rails, which let him into the same enclosure as hounds were 
 still running hard in, the first flight riding a little behind, 
 right and left of them. The ground now began to fall rapidly 
 as they neared the water meadows, situate in the low-lying 
 portion of the vale. What with fright, and the awful velocity 
 
 THE BEATEN FOX. 
 
 with which he had been carried through the air, the unhappy 
 Binkie had almost relapsed into a state of semi-consciousness ; 
 and the thought of trying to pull up his impetuous steed had 
 never once entered his head. Clinging tenaciously to his saddle, 
 and heedless of the cries which were levelled at him bv the 
 forward contingent, the Huntsman, and the Whips, as he shot 
 past them, to " Hold hard ! " — on he went, now on sound turf, 
 now in the deep, holding, peaty bottoms, where the ' plunk, 
 plunk ' of his horse's feet sent the water flying up into his 
 face at every stride. A mile or two was traversed in this stjde, 
 our hero, most unwillingl}', ' setting the field.' Two or three 
 of the smaller dykes had been duly negotiated b}' Marmion, 
 an agonized " oh ! " from the rider escaping him at each. 
 
48 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Then, as lie reached and galloped over two of the tail 
 hounds, who fled out of his way howling dismally, and each 
 holding up an injured paw, the runaway's stride began to 
 shorten. He was beginning to find that he had had about 
 enough of it, but the blue blood of Capulet flowed in his veins, 
 and as yet forbade the thought of giving in. The pack, how- 
 ever, running with a burning scent, their hackles up, and with 
 their now beaten fox actually in view, again drew out from the 
 pursuing horse. Blowing hard now, and labouring consider- 
 ably in the heavy going, Marmion plodded gamely and 
 doggedly on ; then, right across their line, they confronted a 
 post and rails, fringing a big, full dyke. Gallantly did the 
 good chestnut gather himself together for his effort as he 
 cocked his ears at the formidable ol)stacle. But pace, and 
 the deep, holding ground they had been travelling over, 
 had fairly pumped him out, and to the unspeakable joy of 
 his master (?), discretion came to the horse's aid, and he began 
 to pull up. Too late, alas ! for although, as he got within a 
 length of the rails, he resolutely planted both forefeet in the 
 soft, slippery ground before him, ploughing up long furrows 
 in his efforts to stop himself, the treacherous, clay surface 
 gave his ' brake power ' no chance to act, and sliding up 
 against the top rail until all his weight was on it, the timber, 
 unequal to the strain, snapped, and let both horse and rider 
 helplessly and hopelessly over head, into the dark and murky 
 waters beyond. Mr. Travers Algernon Binkie's first run with 
 hounds had ended. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 MARMION AT A DISCOUNT. 
 
 "■ Hold up, 'oss," cried Will again, as his nearly ' done ' 
 horse blundered badly, on landing over the place which had 
 proved fatal to our friend Binkie, " Hullo," he exclaimed, 
 as he caught sight of the chestnut, well into the middle of the 
 dyke, whilst his owner was frantically trying to swarm up the 
 far side in parlous plight. "Ben," he shouted back to his 
 second Whip, who was coming up close behind him: "Better 
 stop and help Mr, Johnny Gilpin out o' this, or I'm blessed if 
 there won't be a crowner's 'quest wanted here : p'raps the 
 gentleman can't swim ! " and on he went, with some difficulty 
 shaking his horse into a canter again. 
 
 Ben disgustedly prepared to obey. Left to himself, the 
 young Wliipper-in, keen as mustard, would have let Mr. 
 Binkie be drowned or be d — d with equal indifference, so that 
 he himself was on with hounds. But he could not disobey 
 orders, so leaving his smoking steed, standing with shaking 
 tail and down-drooped head, to take care of itself, he walked 
 down to the ditch-side in order to commence salvage opera- 
 tions on the Binkie person and property. 
 
 Meantime, the field had become somewhat select, and all 
 really left in the run with a chance to see anything of the 
 finish, were Tom Tribe, Jack Dashwood, who had bucketed 
 
 H.H. E 
 
50 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 his hired gee in most merciless fashion ; the Duke, still going 
 strong and well, on the neat little chestnut ; three light Aveight 
 men, and a lady — not Mrs. Joggletilt, \Yhose hig horse had 
 found that the conjunction of heavy ground, a strong pace, 
 and his by no means fairy burden, was not to his taste. 
 Sir Tommy had come down a ' buster ' at a bank and wattle 
 on the top, which he had gone rather out of his way, in the 
 early part of the run, to jump. All those going at the time 
 of Binkie's disaster meant seeing it out to the bitter end, or 
 as far, at least, as their horses could carry them towards that 
 desirable consummation. 
 
 Although travelling with arched back and tag dragging 
 over the wet, peaty soil. Pug was not yet in hand. ' As 
 artful as a cartload of monkeys ' is an expression which 
 applies to no animal more forcibly than to a hunted fox. 
 What the average specimen of the vulpine race doesn't know, 
 isn't worth knowing. 
 
 They were emerging now on to sounder ground, and soon 
 after reaching a little cultivated and starveling potato patch, 
 Keynard turned sharply left-handed up a short grass hill. By 
 this time horses were getting rapidly to that stage known 
 to the initiated as ' cooked,' and even Will galloped round the 
 foot of the hill instead of going up it, in hopes that hounds 
 would come back to him. This they did in less than five 
 minutes, and as the Huntsman viewed his quarry again, his 
 experienced eye told him that the end was not far off. Just as 
 the fox reached the foot of the hill, he endeavoured to climb 
 a low stone wall ; but he was too stiff', and his tired limbs 
 refused their office. He fell back, and in another moment a 
 rush of the hounds, a few fierce snaps, something bedraggled, 
 
Miss Comely takes the Brush. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 51 
 
 brown and furry, in the midst of the melee, and Will's " who- 
 hoop ! " proclaimed to all within a half-a-mile radius, that this 
 good fox had died. 
 
 Tom Tribe was up and off his horse, hardly a moment 
 behind "Will. Then the Duke, whose good little horse 
 had fairly worn down Jack Dashwood's useful old screw, 
 arrived, and flinging the reins down on the chestnut's neck, 
 he let him refresh himself with a hearty good shake ; 
 after which, re-adjusting his eyeglass, the Duke turned in 
 his saddle to watch for the next comer. With nose nearly 
 touching the ground, our friend Jack's hireling came 
 blobbing along, hardly able to raise a canter ; he was only 
 just in advance of the lady, who proved to be Miss Comely ; 
 her horse was ' done to a turn.' Then three or four others 
 arrived, some five minutes later, in a cluster, and that 
 was all. 
 
 A cloud of steam arose from the group of sweating, blowing 
 horses, as the obsequies were performed and the fox broken 
 up. With an elaborate bow, the Duke presented that coveted 
 trophy of the chase — the brush — to Miss Comely, who accepted 
 it with a most becoming blush. She had ridden the line 
 fairly and well, and thoroughly deserved the honour. But 
 what she valued still more, was the fact that the Duke had 
 addressed a few tender words to her at the moment of 
 presentation, in low tones, unheard by the rest of those 
 assembled there. For, be it known that Adela Comely 
 had ' views ' with regard to that fascinating nobleman, and 
 but for the untimely interference of Lord Gravity at a 
 critical stage of the proceedings during the last Eace Ball, 
 well — who knows what might have happened? But Lord 
 
 E 2 
 
52 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Gravity's watchfulness notwithstanding, Miss Comely had 
 by no means abandoned hope of eventually posing as 
 ' Your Grace.' 
 
 Now that the gallop was over and there was no more fun 
 to be had out of it, Master Jack thought he would go back to 
 look after his very dear friend, Binkie. Jack had caught 
 sight of him and his horse in the big drain as he jumped it at 
 a narrower part himself, but he had taken care not to see him 
 ' officially.' It really is so annoying that one's friends always 
 seem to make a point of coming to grief just on the days one 
 is going well oneself. Mr. Dashwood quietly walked his tired 
 beast back to the fatal spot, saluting Mr. Binkie with a ' view 
 holloa ' as he arrived, and beheld his bedraggled friend 
 standing dripping on the bank. 
 
 " What ho, my piebald sportsman ! you've been and gone 
 and done it now, I don't think ! Well, if haughty ambition 
 irill lead the field, haughty ambition must pay for the honour, 
 eh '? How's 3' our feelings, cockie ? " 
 
 ' Trousers ' tried to smile pleasantly, but only succeeded 
 in producing a somewhat ghastly grin. His teeth were 
 chattering with the cold, and the mud was fast drying on 
 him in cakes. His hat was broken, and one boot had been 
 pulled off in the sticky clay. Altogether, he was distinctly 
 an object for pity. As to his horse, he was not making the 
 slightest effort to help in extricating that good, if misguided 
 beast, and poor Ben, unaided, looked very like stopping in the 
 ditch all night in the hopeless task. 
 
 Jack slipped off his horse, and, leaving it to its own 
 devices, made a close inspection of the fallen, and now stuck- 
 fast animal. 
 
MAEMION IN THE BROOK. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 55 
 
 "I say, old chap, I believe you've broken his back," he 
 said, solemnly. 
 
 "Is — is — is — that a serious thing, do you think?" asked 
 Trousers, his teeth rattling in his head like castanets. 
 
 "Well," answered Jack, "killing's rather fatal, ain't it?" 
 whilst Ben, up to his knees in mire, supporting the poor 
 beast's head to keep him from drowning, could not repress a 
 laugh at poor Binkie's verdant innocence. 
 
 " How's he fast ? " enquired Jack of the Whipper-in. 
 
 " Got his hind legs right down in the stuff, sir, and it do 
 hold 'em, there's no mistake. Did they kill, sir? " 
 
 "Yes; and I expect Will and Tom and the hounds'll be 
 back this way directly. They'll give us a hand ; but you'll 
 have to stop there till they come, for if you let go his head 
 I'm blest if he won't commit suicide," exclaimed Jack. 
 
 Five minutes passed, during which poor ' Trousers ' got 
 colder and colder, and he asked his friend plaintively if he 
 didn't think he could get a cab — they were five miles from 
 everywhere — to take him home ? And then, to Ben's great 
 relief, and Jack's joy, Will and his subordinate turned up on 
 their journey kennelwards. The Huntsman's quick eye soon 
 took in the situation, and he said to Ben — 
 
 "That's right; keep his head up, and Tom must ride 
 over to that cottage there and borrow a spade. Ask them two 
 hedgers-and-ditchers to come over and lend a hand, too, Tom, 
 and tell 'em to look sharp about it ; it's time this 'oss was got 
 out; he won't improve by keepin', you know, in this place." 
 
 And almost before he had finished speaking, Tom Tribe 
 was shaking and heeling his tired horse over towards the 
 cottage indicated, telling the two hedgers the need of their 
 
56 
 
 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 services as he went. They plodded heavily over towards the 
 little group on the bank, and by the time they had reached 
 it, Tom rode back with a sharp spade over his shoulder. 
 
 "Now we shan't be long," quoth Mr. Jack Dashwood, as 
 he seized the spade from the Whipper-in and prepared to 
 cautiously descend the greasy bank. The words were pro- 
 phetic as far as his own immediate fate was concerned, for, 
 his heels slipping away from under him, he sprawled on his 
 back beside the fallen horse, the spade flying out of his hand 
 as he fell. Amid the laughter of the rest, he scrambled up 
 again, and Tom Tribe, who had dismounted and again given 
 his horse a hberty which the poor beast did not look like 
 abusing, caught up the spade, and, aided by the two hedgers, 
 set to work with a will to cut out the soil around the 
 unhappy chestnut's hind legs. Ten minutes vigorous labour 
 cleared the way for a successful struggle on the part of Mr. 
 Binkie's new purchase, and with a mighty heave he got clear 
 of the sticky clay. Another struggle, a slip, and then yet 
 one more mighty effort, and he stood safely on terra firma 
 again ; then he gave himself a shake like that of a big dog 
 emerging from a pond, and began to walk away. Jack seized 
 his bridle and exclaimed — 
 
 "Whoa ho, my bonny boy, you're all right; I don't think 
 .he's a bit the worse for his tumble. Up you get, Trousers! 
 and don't forget to empty the half-crowns in your pocket into 
 the hands of the chaps who've dug you out." 
 
 Mr. Binkie, having complied with this request, was soon 
 hoisted into his muddy saddle, and the whole procession of 
 horsemen and hounds started on their ten-mile journey back 
 to the kennels. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 57 
 
 Travel's was somewhat silent on the way home. He felt 
 lugubrious about the disappointing behaviour of the new 
 horse, though devoutly thankful he hadn't been killed by him. 
 All the glory of having led the field, too, was dimmed, if 
 not entirely swept away, by the painfully obvious fact that 
 such performance was involuntary on his part, and that his 
 hands had been grasping the saddle instead of the reins. 
 Moreover, like many others whose supply of brains is hardly 
 in proportion to the sum of their worldly possessions, he had 
 a vague feeling that he had been ' done,' without actually 
 knowing how. As soon as the exercise of jogging along had 
 put a little life and warmth into his chilled frame he said 
 to Jack, riding along at his side — 
 
 "I say, you know, if this is a bolter, why, he ain't quiet 
 to ride, is he '? and so I shall return him to this chap, 
 Crocker, you know, and ask for my money back." 
 
 " Do — and I'll bet you tuppence you don't get it ! " 
 responded Jack promptly. 
 
 " Oh, really ! " came in the high falsetto, "but that's not 
 fair, you know, is it ? " 
 
 And just then, for the first time, it occurred to Mr. Jack 
 Dashwood that things might be made a little awkward for him 
 personally, if Travers Algernon made any fuss, as he, Jack, 
 had bouglit the horse of Crocker, at the suggestion of that 
 astute gentleman, and therefore that he himself was the actual 
 seller (and perhaps the ' sold ') in the transaction. Evidently 
 Crocker had planted him with a determined bolter. If Binkie 
 complained about the horse to Crocker, Crocker would, of 
 course, disclaim any responsibility in the matter, morally or 
 legally, and refer Mr. Binkie to Mr. Jack Dashwood himself. 
 
58 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 After hurriedly reviewing the facts of the case, Jack came 
 to the conclusion that he had better try to gloss over the 
 horse's behaviour on this occasion, as an isolated instance 
 though instinct told him that Marmion by Capulet, was in all 
 human probability, one of the ' incorrigibles ' of the world. 
 
 "I wouldn't worry about it, if I were you, Trou-Trous. I 
 believe he's a dooced good horse — must be, in fact, to go as 
 he did with you, to-day. He can gallop and jump and stay — 
 can really go on, you know, and " 
 
 "Oh really," squeaked Binkie as before, "but I can't stop 
 him when he goes on, you know " 
 
 "Oh, rubbish ! horse is fresh to you — new rider, and all 
 that sort of thing ; you let me ride him, or better still, let 
 Tommy ride him, next Saturday, and then see how he goes. 
 At all events, if the worst comes to the worst, you can always 
 send him up to the hammer. Horse like that is sure to make 
 a lot of money at Tatt's or Aldridge's. Don't you trouble 
 yourself, it's all right. Besides you are going home covered 
 with glory " 
 
 "And mud ! " squeaked Travers, ruefully. 
 
 " Oh, blow the mud ! what's that matter '? it's all in the 
 day's work." 
 
 "Oh, really! but I feel so stiff, and so sore — and — and — 
 well, the saddle feels so hard, you know, and I don't seem to 
 think I shall ever be able to sit down again," and poor 
 Travers looked as if he were seriously inclined to weep. 
 
 "Well, have your dinner off the mantelpiece, then ! That'll 
 be all right. And now let's jog along; I'm getting cold." 
 
 " Yes ; but I can't jog along ! It's really too " 
 
 "Very well then, I will. You come on as slow as you 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 59 
 
 like, and I'll tell 'em to get the tea and muffins ready for 
 you. Ta-ta ! " And Mr. Dash wood heel'd the old crow he 
 was ridmg mto mcreased activity, until he shovelled along at 
 the best pace his stiffened limbs would admit of. 
 
 After going less than a quarter of a mile, he overtook 
 and passed the Duke and Adela Comely, enjoying a most 
 delightful tete-a-tete as they rode home together. Miss 
 Comely was clothed in smiles (and, of course, all the 
 customary addenda of a fin-de-siede equestrienne), whilst 
 the Duke, freed from the thrall of Lord Gravity's watchful 
 guardianship, was, as Tom Tribe afterwards described it to 
 his ' missus,' ' carryin' on somethin' awful ' with her. The 
 Duke was doubly pleased because Sanders, with his second 
 horse, having missed him, the new little hunter had carried 
 him gallantly throughout the run, from start to finish ; and 
 secondly, that kind Fate had dropped him in the same field as 
 a pretty girl, with whom he could ride home and flirt to his 
 heart's content. And His Grace of Haughtyshire was a past 
 master in the art of flirtation. He was also handsome, well 
 preserved, eligible, and, what all girls of sense highly appre- 
 ciate, a bold, resolute horseman. The only alloy to the Duke's 
 present happiness was the thought that he would surely have 
 to face a mild but searching cross-examination on the part 
 of his son and heir at dinner that evening, as to whom he 
 had been talking and riding with during the day. 
 
 Jack raised his hat and passed on, leaving this pair of turtle- 
 doves the road to themselves, again. A couple of miles 
 farther on, he fell in with his friend. Sir Tommy, who had 
 managed to lame his horse in the fall at the bank, already 
 spoken of, as well as bark his own nose, and secure a very 
 
6o THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 fine specimen of what is known in the vulgar tongue as a 
 ' black eye.' 
 
 "What ho, Tomaso ! you look as if you'd fallen down and 
 trodden on yourself ! Been a mucker? " 
 
 " You've guessed it in once," replied the other sententiously. 
 " I have been a mucker — an almighty mucker, and no error. 
 The silly fool " 
 
 " Who ? you or the horse ? " 
 
 " Shut up. The silly fool half refused, and then tried to 
 jump it ; came down a buster, and we rolled over together. 
 And now the beggar's lame." 
 
 " It don't matter. I've got you a mount for Saturday ; 
 Trousers's new gee. He's a clinker, but he sailed with 
 Trou-Trous, carried him all over the place, jolly nearly to 
 where we killed " 
 
 "Oh, you did kill ? " interrupted Tommy, looking very 
 disappointed. (Well, it is disappointing, isn't it, to come 
 down in the early part of a run, just as the fun's beginning, 
 and then to hear that your friends have had a good gallop, 
 and wound up with a kill ?) 
 
 " Yes. Eipping gallop, and killed him in those peaty 
 meadows. Well, the gee put poor old Trousers down in a 
 ditch near the finish, and we had to dig him out with a spade; 
 the horse, I mean ; not Trousers. But he is a devilish good 
 horse, I can tell you, and if he had a man on his back, 
 would be the best hunter in the county. But Trousers ! — 
 well, there you are, you know ! And so I at once suggested 
 that he should let you ride the horse next time." 
 
 Sir Tommy looked at his friend suspiciously. Self-efface- 
 ment was hardly one of Jack Dashwood's prominent qualities. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 6i 
 
 " Why not you ? " he asked quickly. 
 
 " Me? oh — er — well, because I didn't exactly want a mount 
 that day, don't you know. And I thought " 
 
 " There's something pretty wrong about the beggar — some- 
 thing beyond his just stepping it with that ass, Travers — and 
 you would prefer that I should break my neck, to taking the 
 chance yourself." 
 
 " Oh, infinitely ! " exclaimed Jack, with engaging frankness. 
 
 " Well, then, why don't you say so ? " rejoined the Baronet. 
 ^' Why do you try to humbug me ? " 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," replied Jack, indifferently, " keeps one's 
 hand in, don't it? Well, if you want the truth, perhaps the 
 horse is a bolter — perhaps he isn't. It might very likely be 
 simply on account of Binkie's feeble riding. But he can't be 
 very hard to handle, if that mug could sit on him all the time." 
 
 " That's true. Oh, I'll ride him right enough ; but really. 
 Jack, I'd chuck up the attempt to act the unselfish and 
 benevolent bounder, if I were you ; I would really, or one 
 ■of these days you'll strain yourself at it." 
 
 When Travers Algernon arrived home he found the tea 
 awaiting him, and Sir Tommy comfortably ensconced in his, 
 Travers's, own particular chair, and smoking one of his 
 eighteenpenny Cabanas. Mr. Jack Dashwood had retired 
 upstairs, and w'as at that moment floundering about in a 
 most delightful warm tub. Binkie swallowed a cup of hot tea, 
 and felt better. 
 
 " I say, Tommy, you can ride my new horse next Saturday, 
 if you like. He ran away with me, and put me into a ditch, 
 jou know," and the meaningless blue eye was turned upon 
 Tommy to see how he would take the proposition. 
 
62 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 " All right, Trousers, I'll show him who's the boss, you 
 bet your boots," replied the valiant Baronet, with an easy 
 assurance which he did not exactly feel. " I'll put a bit 
 on the beggar that'll hold a ship. Don't you trouble 
 yourself about it." 
 
 " I'll give you a tip. Tommy," said Travers, squeaking in 
 a somewhat lower key than usual and looking confidential. 
 " If he bolts with you, drop the reins and hang on by the 
 saddle. 7 did ! " 
 
 That night at dinner, Mr. Sej^timus Binkie enquired of his 
 hopeful son how he had enjoyed his first day's hunting. 
 Mrs. Binkie wanted to know whether he had spoken to the 
 'Dook,' and Miss Penelope Binkie asked whether there were 
 any ladies out, and if so, what they 'had on.' Travers, his 
 head still swimming from his unaccustomed flight through 
 the air, and the shake of his ' downer,' got rather mixed in 
 his reply, and said, feebly, that he didn't think he much 
 liked hunting the Duke, and he hadn't spoken to the ladies, 
 and they hadn't anything he meant he hadn't seen any- 
 thing of what they had on — though he must, of course, have 
 seen it, or he couldn't have seen them. At least what he 
 
 meant to say was, that . Oh, please pass him the sherry, 
 
 he didn't feel very well, and he'd tell them all about it some 
 other time. 
 
 Jack and Sir Tommy rattled on about the run in a way 
 perfectly unintelligible to the Binkies. Even their hostess 
 failed to extract anything tangible of what she wanted to 
 know from either. 
 
 "Well, was Lord Gravy — the Book's son — was he out to- 
 day ? " Mrs. Binkie had all the sleuth-hound instinct of 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 
 
 63 
 
 the matron for an 'eligible' about her, and Penelope must 
 be given chances. ' My Lady ' and my ' daughter Lady 
 So-and-so ' would sound truly magnificent. 
 
 "No," said Tommy, "and his name is Gravity, not Gravy, 
 Mrs. Binkie. Lord Gravity is a cove — beg pardon, a man 
 who don't go in for sport, you see. His father attends to 
 that department, whilst he does the business of the place." 
 
 And so, altogether, Travers's first day with hounds had not 
 been productive of much in the way of furthering the aims 
 of the ' Binkie family in the county. As to poor Travers 
 himself, a much abrased cuticle was the only impression 
 left behind for him. 
 
 Jt^ 
 
 \i 
 
 PRODIGAL. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MARJIION VANQUISHES SIR TOMMY. 
 
 The following Saturday morning found Mr. Binlde- Junior 
 content to lie in bed, reading of the immortal contest fought 
 between Mendoza and the Birmingham Buster, varied by 
 occasional dives into Beckford, not one word of which could 
 he understand. But having now got over the worst of his 
 stiffness, he began to think he would buy a quiet, a very 
 quiet horse, and go in regularly for hunting, (Nota Bene, 
 that when the Binkies of the world say they will go in 
 for hunting, they mean that they will go in for skirting, 
 slinking through gates, gaps, etc.), and to what authority 
 could he better turn than to Peter Beckford of imiierish- 
 able memory? But never heeding that Peter's pages were 
 as so much Greek to him, he plodded steadily on at the book 
 (taking it, however, in homceopathic doses) in hopes that 
 some of it would soak in. As we have said, he sandwiched 
 in a bit of Beckford between two large slices of some world- 
 famed prize-fight (the literature of the P. E. being a thing he 
 peculiarly affected) and in this way managed to worry through 
 the immortal tome. 
 
 Meanwhile his two friends were jogging along to the meet 
 at Halton Gate, Sir Tommy on the redoubtable chestnut, 
 i^agged and half choked with some anserous arrangement of 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 
 
 bits devised by his enterprising and ingenious rider, whilst 
 Jack bestrode his own, still stiff, hireling. 
 
 " Be all right when he's warmed up with a gallop," Jack 
 had said in answer to his groom's warning that the horse was 
 not fit to go out again yet, with hounds. 
 
 Arrived at the meet, they found a fairly large field 
 assembled, including the Duke — again in close attendance on 
 Miss Gomel}' — Mrs. Joggietilt, the Eev. Geoffry Yarboro, Com- 
 mander Clump, and most of the ' habituals.' The pack was 
 just run through a small covert, for form's sake, and then trotted 
 oft' down Gorsely Lane, en route to Hindlinton Great Pastures. 
 Almost as soon as hounds were put in at one end of the covert, 
 a fox broke at the other, and went straight away. 
 
 "Now we're in for some fun!" exclaimed Jack, as he 
 rammed his hat down on his head. 
 
 " Yes, I expect I am, anyhow ! " returned Sir Tommy 
 grimly, as the ominous reachings and snatchings at the bridle 
 began in earnest. Gag or no gag, Marmion by Capulet evidently 
 meant business, and his rider had sense enough to see that 
 it might be better to so far fall in with his humour as to let 
 him, if possible, get off at once, and go along in front. He 
 accordingly pushed his way through the crowd, and jumped 
 a small hedge which divided the lane (in w4iich most of the 
 horsemen were assembled, all eager and jostling each other 
 in hopes of getting a good start) from a large grass-field into 
 which hounds had already begun to feather. Then they spoke 
 to it unequivocally, and away they streamed. Sir Tommy 
 had a splendid start, and, what was of almost equal importance, 
 his horse could take his own line, clear of the crowd and its 
 excitements. 
 
 H.H. F 
 
66 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Over the first field and over the first fence all went well, 
 but the next half-mile was down some old pasture-land, with 
 falling ground. Hounds were running as if tied to their fox ; 
 nothing held them for even a moment ; the pace increased, 
 and Marmion was getting his head down ; the horse was 
 blessed — or as his multifarious riders had always considered, 
 cursed — with a fine flow of exuberant spirits, and despite 
 Sir Tommy's best endeavours, he quickly got his head almost 
 between his forelegs, and then let go such a succession of bucks 
 and kicks, straight from his powerful loins, as first shifted, 
 and then at last ' boosted ' poor Tommy clean out of the 
 saddle. He fell with that horribly unpleasant ' wump '' 
 which almost shakes the teeth out of your head — fell flat on 
 his back, whilst the proud animal, who didn't seem to have 
 even missed him, galloped straight on, landing over the next 
 fence — a thick blackthorn — right on top of about half-a-dozen 
 hounds as they turned sharply right-handed up the hedge- 
 row. The fallen rider's discomfiture was a thousandfold 
 increased, as on his ears broke the dismal howling of the 
 maimed hounds, mingled with a volley of ' cuss-words,' 
 hurled at his devoted head by Will, as he galloped furiously 
 past him. 
 
 " Ar'm blessed if that brute didn't oughter to be shot ! It's 
 the same beauty " (only Will didn't say " beauty ") " that run 
 away last Toosday wi' that fat, tailor-looking man — little 
 Johnny Gilpin, a' call 'im. Ar b'lieve now as they must be 
 the new people oop at The Chase — and be d — d to 'em ! " 
 he added, as he flew the fence before him. 
 
 Sir Tommy sat upon the ground, and looked around him. 
 At a little distance from where he was, the whole field went 
 
 I 
 
 g 
 
SIR TOMMY 'CUTS A VOLUNTARY, 
 
 F 2 
 
I 
 
 ?4 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 69 
 
 past him, but not one offered to stop, either to enquire whether 
 he was hurt or to lend him a helping hand. 
 
 " It's the way of the beastly world," growled the Baronet, in 
 deeply disgusted tones ; " the way of the beastly, ill-natured, 
 selfish world ! As to that brute of a horse — ^well, all I hope is 
 that he will jolly well break his silly neck ! " with which pious 
 wish Sir Tommy proceeded to pick himself up and knock off 
 some of the clay clods adhering to various parts of his person. 
 
 "Wonder where the devil I am? I don't know where 
 Halton is ; how should I ? I don't know any of the beastly 
 country, but, as far as I remember, there's no village to make 
 for anywhere near — nothing for it, in fact, but to trudge the 
 awful four miles home. As to anyone ever catching that devil 
 of a horse — well,' if he's caught this side of Christmas I shall 
 be surprised, that's all." 
 
 And with these words Sir Tommy, heaving a deep sigh 
 at his unhappy fate, prepared for the dreary four-mile tramp 
 homewards. 
 
 Before he had gone a mile, his boot had begun operations 
 in the way of removing the cuticle from his heel, and every 
 step he took made matters worse. He hopped in order to 
 relieve the suffering foot, thereby causing the other one to 
 begin the process of heel- rubbing, too. Then he managed to 
 catch his left toe against the spur of his right foot and trip 
 over it ; and after that it began to rain. Tommy's ' doll ' was 
 verily ' stuffed with sawdust, and the world was hollow ' on that 
 memorable day ! 
 
 When he had done about half of the miserable journey, a 
 butcher's cart overtook him, and he stopped it. It might be 
 infra dig. for a scarlet-coated, top-booted Baronet to travel in 
 
70 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 a butcher's cart, cheek by jowl with Mrs. Whiffin's sheep's 
 head and Mrs, Onion's scrag-end of the neck, but the pain 
 of his excoriated heels was more than poor Tommy could 
 stand, and up he climbed, and in this inglorious and humiliat- 
 ing manner ultimately reached The Chase. 
 
 Travers felt more than delighted as he met his friend 
 hopping painfully up the carriage-drive, on foot. He 
 listened with great pleasure to the Baronet's dismal tale — 
 Tommy would have said the horse had fallen with him — it is 
 so much pleasanter than having to admit that you've been 
 kicked off — but for the fact that the whole field had witnessed 
 the catastrophe, and could have contradicted the assertion. 
 When he had finished the recital, Trousers accompanied him 
 into the house, and administered a whisky-and-soda by way 
 of solace to his wounded feelings. Then he straightway 
 proceeded to lacerate them afresh by saying, in his best 
 and most vacuous manner — 
 
 " So I ain't such a bad rider, you see, after all, am I ? In 
 fact, I must be a doosid sight better rider than you. Tommy, 
 mustn't I? because, although he ran away with me, I stuck 
 on; and when he ran away with you, you came off ! " and 
 he indulged in a high falsetto giggle. 
 
 We regret to state — though we do not feel any surprise 
 at the fact — that murder was in Sir Tommy's heart at that 
 moment. Not a plain common-or-garden ordinary sort of 
 murder, but a regular twopence-coloured, done-to-death-in-the- 
 torture-chamber kind of tragedy. However, civilization has its 
 advantages, and instead of springing upon his companion, 
 there and then, and throttling him, he borrowed a tenner on 
 the spot. Then he said — 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 71 
 
 "You must sell this brute. He's a confirmed bolter; 
 nobody will ever be able to hold him ^Yhen he's fairly started 
 after hounds. Now, you send him up to Aldridge's. I know 
 Sprange, one of the bosses up there, and I'll ask him to look 
 after the horse, give him a loose-box and all that. Sprange is 
 the Ijest chap in the world. And perhaps we could pick you 
 up a cheap hunter at the same place, eh? " 
 
 But Travers was minded to get a safe hunter, not a cheap 
 one. After all, it was only a question of 'Pa' putting his 
 hand a little deeper into his pocket. That wouldn't matter 
 to Mr. Binkie Senior ; certainly it wouldn't to Mr. Binkie 
 Junior. 
 
 " No-o, thanks," he squeaked. "I want to get a nice quiet 
 horse; something like the one Mrs. Joggletilt was on, on 
 Tuesday, you know." 
 
 "That thing!" exclaimed Tommy in disgusted tones, 
 " why the beggar can't go as fast as a man can kick his 
 hat!" 
 
 "Oh, I don't want to go very fast, but I like horses that 
 will keep still when you wish 'em to. If they get over the 
 jumps safely, that's all I want," said Binkie. 
 
 " Get over the jumps '? " repeated Tommy abstractedly. He 
 was thinking of something else at the moment. " Sounds 
 like an attack of the wiffle-wafiles, don't it? " 
 
 "Yes," continued Trousers. "I want 'em safe, you know. 
 I don't want my neck broken." 
 
 "And so say all of us!" quoted his friend. "Now I'm 
 going upstairs to change. I suppose your blessed horse will 
 find his way home, or be brought home. Why, here he is, 
 with a gipsy-looking rascal riding him up to the stables. You 
 
72 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 go out and see about it, and settle with him, there's a good 
 chap. I'm just off upstairs," and Sir Tommy beat a precipi- 
 tate retreat, as he invariably did whenever there was any 
 question of payment in the wind. 
 
 Mr. Binkie put his hands in his pockets, and went out to 
 meet the runaway. The gipsy -looking man touched the rim 
 of his hat, and said — 
 
 " Ar've hrought 'um whoam, sir." 
 
 " Oh, really ! " went the ' penny-whistle voice,' as Jack 
 Dashwood called it. "I should have thought that he'd 
 brought you home ! " and Travers gave a vacuous grin at 
 what he thought to be a highly original witticism. 
 
 The man stared stolidly at him. Then he scratched his 
 head and said, " Ar've lost half-a-day's work through bringing 
 of 'um whoam." 
 
 " Oh, really ! but that's rather nice for you, isn't it ? Gives 
 you a sort of holiday, eh ? " 
 
 " Ar've lost half-a-day's work, and who's to pay me for it, 
 ar wants to know ? " 
 
 " Oh, you mean you've lost half-a-day's pay. I see. Well, 
 I suppose Tommy ought, as he fell off, but I shall have to, 
 because Tommy never pays anybody. How much do you 
 earn, my man '?" 
 
 " Poond a week, sir." (It was fourteen shillings really, 
 but the horny-handed son of toil was not particular to a 
 ' stretcher ' here and there, whenever anything was to be 
 got by it.) 
 
 " Oh, really! Well, half-a-day at a week a pound. I mean 
 half-a-week at a pound a^ — oh, d — n it ! where's a piece of 
 paper and a pencil. Ah, here's a pencil. I'll write it on my 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUXT. y^ 
 
 shirt-cuff. Now, a pound divided into sixteenths ; sixteen 
 ounces to the pound, ain't if? Well, seven days in the 
 
 week " But here poor Trousers became so completely 
 
 fogged that, in wild despair, he gave the man five shillings, 
 and, consigning the horse to a groom and his calculations to 
 perdition, once more retreated within the house. 
 
 About four o'clock in the afternoon, a crunching of gravel 
 beneath horses' hoofs announced an arrival. Travers and 
 Tommy, who had both been reading the Pink 'Un, looked 
 up through the window in time to see Jack Dashwood, his 
 horse so tired that it could hardly crawl, ride past towards 
 the stables, accompanied by a good-looking young man on 
 a grey. So unexpected was the sight of the latter, that 
 both gentlemen arose and stared out of the window at the 
 new comer. Trousers saying — 
 
 "Oh, really! I wonder who that chap can l)e'?" whilst 
 his friend merely ol)served, sotto voce — - 
 
 " Well, I'm blowed ! What game can Jack be up to now? 
 Caught a mug, perhaps." 
 
 Five minutes later, Mr. Jack Dashwood ushered into the 
 room a fair-moustached, handsome young man who seemed 
 perfectly at his ease, even in that august assembly. 
 
 " Allow me to introduce Mr. Eonald Dennison," said Jack, 
 taking Binkie by the arm, and whispering at the same time, 
 " Don't know who the blazes he is, except that he's a barrister; 
 but he wants to buy the chestnut ; a deuced hard-riding 
 man. I was just behind him all through the run to-day," 
 which is a cool method of praising one's own prowess, by 
 the way. 
 
 "Oh, really!" squeaked Binkie. "Oh, you want to buy 
 
74 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 the gee-gee? Well, he's for sale, you know. How much'll 
 you give for hmi, eh ? " 
 
 Hereupon Mr. Konald Dennison laughed lightly, and 
 observed that he couldn't be buyer and seller too. 
 
 " How much do you want for him, Mr. Binkie ? " said he. 
 
 "Oh, as much as I can get, you know," and the meaning- 
 less blue eye was turned full upon the stranger. " I want a 
 hundred for him, but if you won't give that, why, I'll take 
 less, you know." 
 
 "May I just put a leg over him?" asked Mr. Dennison. 
 " Five minutes on him is all I want." 
 
 Even that limited period was far more than Mr. Binkie him- 
 self wanted of his noble steed. The horse was ordered round, 
 and came, though Avith many grumblings on the part of the 
 grooms, as they had bedded him down, after ' doing him over ' 
 thoroughly. Mr. Dennison was even less than the stipulated 
 five minutes on him. He trotted him sharply down the drive, 
 and then cantered him up the park-land beside it. 
 
 " I've seen him jump, and know all about that," he said, as 
 he slipped off the saddle. "The only thing wrong with him 
 that I can see is that he is a bolter. That, of course, takes a 
 lot off his value. But if you would like me to make you an 
 offer, Mr. Binkie, I'll give you fifty guineas for him." 
 
 " Oh, really ! but then I should lose — at least Pa would 
 lose — such an awful lot, eh ? Oh, I think I'd better send him 
 up to Aldridge's." 
 
 "All right. I'll go up, if you'll say what day he's to be 
 sold, and bid for him. He's a good horse, I know, but I'm a 
 poor man and couldn't afford to hunt at all unless I gave very 
 little money for my horses. Thanks very much, all the same, 
 
MR. BINKIE JUNIOR. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 77 
 
 for letting me get on liim. There's my card, I've taken 
 rooms at this place" — indicating the address pencilled on 
 the card — " for the season. If you'll drop me a line, I'll go 
 up and try to buy your horse at the hammer." And after a 
 little more conversation, he walked down to the stables for 
 his own animal, accompanied by Binkie, whilst Jack and Sir 
 Tommy said good-night to the new comer on the door-step, 
 and disappeared into the house again. 
 
 Before going a dozen yards they came face to face with 
 Penelope, who had just come in from a ride. Penelope had 
 taken kindly to riding, and made a very different figure at it 
 to her brother. Flushed with the glow of healthy exercise, 
 and in her close-fitting riding habit, cut by the best London 
 tailor, which showed off her well-turned figure to the greatest 
 advantage, Penelope Binkie was the kind of girl to arrest the 
 attention of any properly constituted individual of the male 
 sex, and Mr. Pvonald Dennison was by no means proof against 
 such a strong phalanx of physical charms. He politely raised 
 his hat, and was passing on (because he did not see any 
 reasonable excuse for not doing so) , when the lady happened — 
 happened, we repeat— to drop her handkerchief on the gravel 
 path. I daresay that many of us have noticed, and par- 
 ticularly in our salad days, what an awkward thing a girl's 
 handkerchief is to hold. It must be as slippery as an eel, 
 and it always seems to elude its owner's grasp just at that 
 awkward psychological moment when the eyes of one of the 
 opposite sex are on it. In this case the handkerchief fell just 
 as Mr. Eonald Dennison got abreast of the fair craft sailing 
 past him. He stooped, picked up the tiny rag of cambric, 
 and gallantly restored it to its fair owner. 
 
78 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 "Oh, let me introduce you to my sister," bleated Binlde. 
 " Mr. Donald Tennyson — Miss Binkie," then he added to 
 himself, in rather uncertain tones, " I suppose that's the 
 proper thing to do, but I'm sure I don't know." 
 
 Penelope bowed. She had not caught the mispronounced 
 name, but, looking at the young man, tall and erect, with his 
 clear-cut, aristocratic features, as he stood before her, she 
 thought to herself: "Surely this must be a 'somebody' — a 
 man of importance. I wonder if it's Lord Gravity ? " 
 
 For five whole minutes they stood and talked. Beware, 
 Penelope, beware ! Handsome young men in pink, with all 
 that exaltation upon them which comes of having just taken 
 part in a good gallop with hounds, are dangerous to naturally 
 susceptible female hearts. 
 
 They chatted gaily on, and then she remembered that Lord 
 Gravity did not hunt. Who, she wondered, was this fascinat- 
 ing stranger? But dusk was closing in, and with a glance 
 somewhat more tender than a five minutes' acquaintance 
 appeared to warrant, the young man again raised his hat 
 and passed on towards the stables. 
 
 As he rode out past the house on his way down to the 
 lodge gates, he looked up at the windows and saw, or thought 
 he saw, just the tiniest flutter of a white curtain pushed aside 
 hurriedly, and a pretty face behind the diamond panes, for a 
 brief moment. 
 
 Then Mr. Pionald Dennison rode on home to his bachelor 
 lodgings, feeling very well pleased with his day's work. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 AT ALDKIDGE S MISS TUKNOVER. 
 
 Throughout the whole district hunted b}' the Duke of 
 Haughtj'shire eveiyone seemed talking only of the coming 
 Hunt Ball — a gay rfmiioii, which was to take place at the 
 end of the month, and to which the fair sex in especial were 
 keenly looking forward. I say in especial, because it is to be 
 presumed that the younger members of the masculine gender 
 were also, in their way, anticipating some of its delights. 
 But whether it is that women know they look their best, 
 as men assuredly appear at their worst, when dancing, or 
 from some other cause, certain it is that at the end of this 
 nineteenth century the majority of women 'gallop generously,' 
 whilst men begin to jib and look around them for a chance 
 of 'cutting it,' at the threat of a dance invitation card. Give 
 a man a dinner and he is quite at home ; menace him with 
 a dance and you can't ' whip him straight up a passage,' to 
 use the late Sir Kobert Peel's expression. 
 
 Now the Hunt Ball was a very ' Count}' ' affair in 
 Haughtyshire — not one of those ' omnium gatherums ' which 
 obtain in some hunts we could all put a name to if we 
 wished. The Duke himself, with an imposing house-party, 
 was always present — unlike many of the high and mighty of 
 the land, who put their names down on lists of patrons, etc.. 
 
So THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 and then never think any more about the matter, His Grace 
 of Haughtyshire made it a wholesome rule never to let his 
 name appear as patron of a ball, or theatricals, or Steward 
 of a race meeting, unless he intended to be present in person 
 at the entertainment. Then the County people elected a 
 committee from amongst themselves for inspection pur- 
 poses, thus keeping out any ' objectionables.' Of course, 
 as the Duke's was a private pack, and there were no sub- 
 scribers, there could be no question of the riglit of anj^one to 
 come in, and this simplified matters amazingly. 
 
 Mrs. Binkie had set her heart upon going to the ball, 
 though how to obtain tickets she did not know. Ever since 
 the advent of Mr. Eonald Dennison to The Chase, Miss 
 Binkie also had expressed a strong wish to be present. But 
 they knew nobody, or next to nobody — there was the rub. 
 In her perplexity, Mrs. Binkie turned to the Parson for 
 guidance (not of a spiritual nature), and asked him to 
 dine. 
 
 Now, the Piev. Geoffry Yarboro being of a casual, and, 
 withal, sociable turn of mind, determined to accept the invi- 
 tation. At all events, these new people were parishioners of 
 his, and it was his duty to see something of them. So he sat 
 down and wrote a polite little note, assuring Mrs. Binkie that 
 it would afford him great pleasure to dine with her and hers, 
 at seven of the clock on the ensuing Thursday evening. 
 
 Meantime, the gay Marmion had been sent up to Aldridge's 
 for sale, and on the day on which he was to be * dispersed,' as 
 Jack Dashwood called it. Trousers, after having vainly re- 
 quested his two friends to accompany him — it was a near meet, 
 that day, and they had privately agreed beforehand that they 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUXT. 8i 
 
 would see Binkie d — d first, if he should ask them — stated 
 his intention of running up to London alone, to see his horse 
 sold. He had received a catalogue overnight from the big: 
 horse repository, and, with the assistance of Sir Tommy, 
 had made out pretty closely the time at which the son of 
 Capulet would face the rostrum. Attired in a light drab 
 covert coat, with skirts standing out stiffly all round him, tighter 
 legged trousers than usual, and a brown billycock hat with no 
 rim to speak of, our friend drove down to the station in his 
 very high tandem cart (which had never yet had a tandem in 
 it, by the way) — got into a first-class smoker, and was whirled 
 off to town amidst a pile of sporting papers which he forgot 
 to read. 
 
 Arrived at the London terminus, he hailed a hansom and 
 desired the driver to take him to a certain confectioner's shop 
 just out of Holborn. Here he alighted, and, sucking the 
 handle of his Whang-hai cane, entered, and was warmly 
 greeted by the ' daughter of the house,' Miss Tottie Turnover. 
 Mr. Binkie's vacuous smile was even broader than usual, as 
 he extended a large, warm, red paw across the counter and 
 enclosed the lady's — which, by the way, was also of ' useful ' 
 dimensions — in it. As Travers continued smiling and silent, 
 the goddess of the cakes opened fire with — 
 
 " Well I never, Halgy, this is a surprise ! I never expected 
 you 'ere ! Why, where've you been, all this time ? " 
 
 " Oh, I've been down at my place in Haughtyshire, hunting, 
 you know. Do you remember that night I took you to the 
 Gaiety, Tottie ? What awful fun we had, hadn't we ? I often 
 think of that night, you know. I don't know why I do ; but 
 I do, you know. Funny, ain't it ? " and the meaningless 
 
 H.H. G 
 
82 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 blue eye and the vacuous Kiiiile came to his aid, just as 
 speech again failed him. 
 
 " Well, tell me now, what brought you up here this 
 morning?" said the charmer. 
 
 " The train ; he, he, he ! " grinned Travers Algernon, 
 thinking he'd said something awfully funny and extremely 
 humorous. 
 
 " Oh, g'long, do ! " giggled the lady, who, for thirty-two 
 years of age, was commendably playful and hoydenish. 
 " Shall I give you a glass of cherry brandy, now ? You will '? 
 Ah, I thought so," and she gave a coquettish swing of her 
 skirts as she turned round and perkily took down a bottle 
 from the shelf behind her. She poured out the rubicund 
 iluid into a small glass, from which Travers gently sipped. 
 Miss Turnover rested both elbows on the counter, and her 
 chin in her hands, as she gazed upon her ' Halgy's ' manly 
 beauty. Binkie smiled again, more inanely than ever. 
 
 "And now tell me what you've come up to town for," 
 she said. 
 
 "Oh, I've just run up to see a horse of mine sold," he 
 squeaked, and then added, by way of pleasant banter, " You'd 
 better come with me, Tots ! " 
 
 " All right, I will ! " exclaimed the lady, vivaciously. " 'Ow 
 long will you give me to get ready'? I should love it — 
 with you, you know, Halgy ! " The aspirates always became 
 an uncertain quantity with Miss Turnover at moments of 
 excitement. 
 
 Now this was ' a facer ' for Travers. He had not had the 
 faintest idea of being taken at his word in such a manner, and 
 he was, to put it mildly, very disconcerted at her reply. 
 
At A Idridge's. 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHI RE HUNT. 83 
 
 "Oh, really! " he bleated; "but I don't think they admit 
 ladies, you know, to those sort of places." 
 
 " Oh, I suppose 3'ou don't want me, Mr. Binkie," she cried 
 in offended tones. " Very well, then; you need never come 
 here again to see me, I can tell you. I'll never speak to you 
 again, that I won't ! " 
 
 But in order to check any further outburst — of which 
 Mr. Binkie was in the profoundest terror — he at once said — 
 
 " Oh, it's all right, Tottie. Come along, and we'll just drop 
 in and see the horse sold, and then I'll take you somewhere 
 to lunch, eh '? " 
 
 This had the desired effect. The lady quickly brightened 
 up, seeing that she had gained her point without actually 
 resorting to tears. Tears were fraught with danger to Miss 
 Turnover's complexion, and their ravages occupied some 
 considerable time to repair. Blowing Travers a kiss from her 
 rosy finger-tips, she tripped lightly out of the shop, screeching 
 to her mother that she was going out for the day (whereon 
 Binkie gave a slight groan), and that she, Mrs. Turnover, had 
 better call Matilda Hann to mind the shop in her absence. 
 
 Ten minutes later she returned, wearing a costume of plaid — 
 the pattern of which it would take at least two people to show 
 ■off — surmounted by an enormous hat, about four times round 
 to the mile, with nodding, hearse-like plumes. The whole 
 toilette was of such an astonishing description that poor 
 Trousers had to take yet another cherry brandy before he 
 ■could muster up sufficient courage to open the shop door, and 
 break covert with her in the direction of the waiting cab. 
 They at once drove off towards St. Martin's Lane, the hat 
 continually bobbing in Trousers's eye, or hitting him upon 
 
 G 2 
 
84 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 the nose, as they bumped over the inequalities of the road. 
 Travel's devoutly hoped that none of his Oxford friends would 
 meet him ; still more did he pray that none of them would 
 speak to him — or, worse still, to her^ — after they had alighted. 
 The Tottie Turnovers of the world are all very well in their 
 place, thought the hapless Binkie ; it is when they insist on 
 emerging from their place that they become trying to the 
 nerves of those who are, j^w ton., responsible for them. 
 
 They arrived at the Horse Mart a few minutes before the 
 redoubtable chestnut was led into that human ring, which 
 always seems to be formed of the same faces. Year in, year 
 out, those same men appear to be there. Do they live on the 
 spot, we wonder, eating and drinking, perhaps, surreptitiously 
 and when we're not looking, and sleeping on that red, red 
 gravel, like hibernating bears, in the intervals between the 
 bi-weekly sale days ? 
 
 Travers had hardly got his gaudily-plumaged companion up 
 the stairs and into the gallery, which he thought would at 
 least be a less conspicuous place than down amongst the crowd 
 of few buyers and many lookers-on, when the auctioneer's 
 stentorian tones were heard announcing the next lot. 
 
 " Lot 44, gentlemen. Chestnut gelding, Marmion by 
 Capulet, good hunter, and exceptionally brilliant fencer. 
 Well known with the Blazeaway Foxhounds and Col. 
 Crumpler's Drag pack " 
 
 "Better known than trusted," murmured a groomy-looking 
 little man on the outskirts of the crowd. 
 
 " what may I say for Marmion? Anyone put him in 
 
 at a hundred guineas ? " 
 
 No response. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 85 
 
 " Ninety, eighty, seventy ? — come, say what you Hke, 
 gentlemen, anything to start him. Horse hke this must be 
 worth a lot of money, with the hunting season only Just begun. 
 What will anyone give for him ? ' ' 
 
 " Ten guineas," came from a voice in the crowd. 
 
 "Well, sir, I suppose you must be joking, but at all 
 events I'll take your bid, just to start with. Kun him 
 down again." 
 
 " By-y'r-leave ! " shouts the white linen-jacketed man at 
 Marmion's head, and the crowd stands aside rapidly, as a pair 
 of chestnut and white heels swing round and Hash in the air 
 for a moment — a scraping and crunching of gravel underfoot, 
 an eager peering of heads — and the horse is again under the 
 rostrum, his head up in the air, his flag well lifted, and a roll 
 in his eye that effectually prevents the school of leg-feelers 
 from pursuing their ordinary avocations. 
 
 " Ten guineas only is bid. Ten guin fifteen, fifteen, 
 
 fifteen, fifteen guineas only — sixteen, seventeen, eighteen in 
 two places, nineteen, thank you, sir ; nineteen guineas only 
 bid. Gentlemen, don't let a chance like this slip you ! A grand 
 made horse like this must be worth three or four times as 
 much as I'm bid for him. And at nineteen guineas " 
 
 " Twenty." The last bidder is Mr. Ronald Dennison. 
 
 "At twenty guineas only. Now, gentlemen," etc., etc., and 
 the auctioneer tries his hardest to get a little more ; whilst 
 a shrewd-looking, hard-bitten old fellow whispers to his 
 neighbour — 
 
 " If Ronald Dennison thinks of buying him, I expect he's a 
 good 'un. Screw loose somewhere, p'raps, but Master Ronny 
 knows a good horse, and I think I'll go a fiver on to his twenty. 
 
86 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 and chance it," and he nodded to the ' man in the box,' who 
 promptly acknowledged the bid by calling out — 
 
 " Twenty-one guineas is offered." 
 
 "Yes," said the neighbour of the last bidder, " Eonald 
 Dennison knows a good animal, as you say, but don't forget 
 that Ronald Dennison is one of the finest horsemen in 
 England, and has a slender pocket. Eonny would ride 
 the devil — horns, tail and all, if he could get him for a 
 pony ! " 
 
 "That's true," was the answer, "and I'm d — d if he 
 wouldn't get the old gentleman over a big country all the 
 hunting season, and then probably pick up a good steeple- 
 chase with him in the Spring ! " 
 
 " At twenty-four guineas only, going — last time at twenty- 
 four " and down came the little hammer with a slam that 
 
 made pleasant music in Mr. Dennison's ears, for Marmion 
 by Capulet was his. 
 
 Poor Mr. Binkie was not at all pleased. When the 
 auctioneer's last cry of "twenty-four guineas" was heard 
 he plaintively exclaimed — 
 
 " Oh, really ! but I say, you know, that chap said he'd give 
 me fifty for the horse, and — just wait here a minute " (this 
 to Miss Turnover). " I'm going down to speak to the people 
 inside, you know ; I'll be back in a minute," and Travers 
 waddled downstairs, crossed the yard, and went towards the 
 office. Here, just at the entrance, he met Mr. Eonald 
 Dennison, and at once accosted him — 
 
 " I say, you know, you said you'd give fifty for the horse, 
 you know ; and now you've bought him for twenty-four, 
 you know." 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 87 
 
 " Yes ; I was lucky," replied Mr. Dennison, smiling, and 
 holding out his hand. 
 
 "But it's rather beastl}-, you know, ain't it?" said 
 Travers feebly. 
 
 " Fortune of war, my dear Mr. Binkie, the fortune of war. 
 After I got up here this morning, I found that two or three 
 men from the Blazeaway country were in the yard, and they 
 knew the horse. It seems he's been shunted from one country 
 to another, because nobody can hold him, with hounds. So 
 their presence, I daresay, had something to do with the poor 
 price he made. But, although he's a confirmed bolter, I know 
 him to be a good horse, and at that price one can afford 
 to take risks. I hope your charming sister is quite well? 
 I've been wishing to get an opportunity of calling upon 
 your people at The Chase, and shall hope to do so in a few 
 days." 
 
 Trousers forgot his chagrin about the horse. After all, his 
 ' Pa ' would be the sufferer, and that didn't matter. Mrs. 
 Binkie had always dinned into her son's ear that callers were 
 to be encouraged in every way, so that Binkie at once said — 
 
 " Call ? Oh yes, do. Oh, look here, the Parson — forget 
 his name — the Piev. Geoffry Jawbrother, or some such thing 
 as that " 
 
 " Yarboro," suggested Mr. Dennison quietly. 
 
 " Yes ; well, he's coming to dinner on Thursday, so the 
 Guvnor's sure to get up some pop — like pop ? ah, so do I — 
 for the occasion. You just come over and dine with us that 
 night, eh ? I'll get the proper invitation sent you. Let's see, 
 I've got your address somewhere, haven't I ? " 
 
 Mr. Dennison was about to reply, when the fair Tottie, 
 
88 THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 
 
 having from the balcony espied her 'Halgy ' in earnest conver- 
 sation with a very good-looking young man, determined upon 
 being introduced. So she went downstairs, crossed the yard, 
 touched Binkie's elbow, and speaking to him, whilst she 
 looked hard at his companion, exclaimed — 
 
 "What a time you've been ! I got quite tired of waiting, 
 and came down. Introduce me to your friend," and she 
 shook her shoulders at the purchaser of Marmion in her 
 most fascinating style. Travers felt himself rather at a loss. 
 Dennison might make some allusion to the lady when he came 
 to The Chase. But there was no help for it, and he made 
 the introduction with a cumbrous and laboured wink to 
 his male friend as he pronounced the name, " Miss Tottie 
 Turnover." 
 
 Then Binkie hurried her out of the yard, and took her oft' 
 to Scott's to luncheon. 
 
 Travers Algernon Binkie arrived beneath the paternal roof- 
 tree that night rather late for dinner. He ate very little, but 
 appeared to be the- proud possessor of an important thirst. 
 At intervals he sniggered inanely to himself, apropos of 
 nothing in particular. He informed his family and friends of 
 the fact that Marmion had been sold, but he couldn't recollect 
 how much for. 
 
 "Do you know who bought him?" enquired Jack, as he 
 cracked a walnut. 
 
 Travers giggled again, as though he had quite lost control 
 of the muscles of his mouth. 
 
 " Yesh. He bought him. I mean the chap who came 
 (hie) that same day horsh — horse, I mean — chucked Tommy 
 off." (Here Tommy looked ten thousand devils at the 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 89 
 
 speaker.) " You know who a-mean ; Mishter Eonal' Turn- 
 over (hie) no, don't mean that." At this juncture, the 
 ladies rose and left for the drawing-room. "Eonal' Tennis- 
 court. Fine chap, my fren' Eonal' Tenniscourt. Damsight 
 liner chap than " 
 
 " Travers ! " ejaculated Mr. Septimus Binkie severely. 
 
 "Well, beg par'n, I'm sure, if used langwidge unbecom'n' 
 officer an' a genelman, but my fren' Mishter — - — " 
 
 The door slammed behind Mr. Septimus Binkie as he left 
 the dining-room in high dudgeon. And here let us say, in 
 defence of poor Travers, that his head was a very weak one for 
 withstanding the effects of alcohol. Measured by the capacity 
 of other men, he had not taken very much ; but, alas ! it was 
 too much for him. Furthermore, let us say that he had really 
 no taste for strong drink when left alone, but he had not been 
 left alone on this occasion, as we know, and a luncheon with 
 Miss Tottie Turnover had tried him pretty high. 
 
 Tommy nudged Jack, and Jack winked at Tommy. Then 
 they proceeded to act, and a quarter of an hour later Travers 
 Algernon was safely tucked in between the sheets, and sleeping 
 the sleep of blissful unconsciousness and innocence. At least, 
 I hope I am saying the correct thing in speaking of his sleep 
 as the sleep of innocence. In all the books I have ever read 
 I have found that anybody who slept soundly was sleeping the 
 sleep of innocence ; such a thing as indigestion, for example, 
 not being admitted as a possible factor in the undoing of this 
 excellent arrangement of Nature's — or the novelist's, as the 
 case may be. 
 
 Next morning it was the old, old story. A thousand hammers 
 were making an anvil of poor Travers's head, and for the five 
 
90 THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 
 
 hundredth time he swore to drink nothing but water for the 
 rest of his natural life. Later in the day he told his fond 
 parents that he had invited Mr. Dennison to dine with them 
 on the Thursday night, when they were expecting Mr. Geoflfry 
 Yarboro, and that he had accepted. 
 
 Mrs. Binkie was charmed, and forgave Travers on the spot 
 for his ' little indiscretion ' of the day before. Yes, she would 
 send a formal invitation — she called it an ' invite ' — over to 
 Mr. Dennison at once. And did Travers know anything about 
 the young man's family? Hadn't he found out who, in fact, 
 Mr. Dennison was ? No, Travers hadn't. Ah, that was rather 
 a pity, wasn't it (your true ' exclusive ' is always somebody 
 who is shaky on his own pedestal!). Well, it couldn't be 
 helped, and after all it didn't matter, because they were 
 only to have the Parson here. Parsons, in Mrs. Binkie's 
 mind, were synonymous with hungry, poverty-stricken men, 
 whose two great objects in life were begging for their 
 churches and begging for their dinners. The interview she 
 had already had with Mr. Yarboro had, it is true, dealt rather 
 a rough blow at this theory, but still she could not yet get 
 over the fact that Mr. Geoffry Yarboro was ' only a Parson,' 
 after all. 
 
 On the appointed night the Rector, with his close-cropped, 
 iron-grey hair, his jolly face, and young-middle-aged, athletic 
 frame, attired in faultless evening dress, preceded Mr. Ronald 
 Dennison, by a space of only two minutes, into the drawing- 
 room, where he found the Binkie family all trying to stand on 
 the hearthrug at once, as the night was chilly. Mrs. Binkie 
 came forward to welcome him. Miss kept her eye — and a 
 very pretty eye it was, of deep blue with long dark lashes 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 91 
 
 — fixed upon the door, awaiting the advent of their other 
 expected guest. 
 
 " This is very kind of you, Mr. Yarboro, I'm sure, coming 
 to dine with us, just oitrj fainille." (Mrs. Binkie had got hold of 
 this — she wasn't quite sure whether it was French or German 
 — out of a novel she had been reading.) " "We've got another 
 
 gent gentleman, I should say, coming, but that's all. I 
 
 dessay now you know him? It's Mr. Eon ^" 
 
 " Mr. Eonald Dennison," shouted the footman in vigorous 
 fashion, as he threw open the folding-doors, and the gentle- 
 man named, looking bigger, somehow, in evening dress than he 
 did in hunting, or in everyday kit, walked into the room. 
 
 He shook hands with his hostess, then with Miss — a slight 
 pressure in the clasp which was almost imperceptible, except 
 to the close observer ; a rapid glance, downcast eyes, heightened 
 colour, all presenting a tell-tale picture just for the flash of a 
 moment. We know it, dear reader, don't we '? It is ' the story 
 that grows not old,' and yet the one whose first chapter was 
 written in the Garden of Eden. 
 
 Dinner was announced, and Mr. Yarboro escorted his 
 hostess, while to the share of the lucky Eonald fell, of course, 
 Miss Penelope Binkie. Before the soup had been removed, 
 these two were on the very best of terms ; and such is the 
 forwardness of young man and womankind nowadays, that 
 they were already talking of where they were likely to meet 
 again by the time their attention was demanded through the 
 arrival of the turbot. 
 
 Then Miss wanted to know whether Mr. Dennison was going 
 to the Hunt Ball. — Yes, he was, and she ? — Well, she didn't 
 quite know. The fact was, they knew nobody. — Oh, but 
 
92 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 that didn't matter a bit ; he, Ronald Dennison, would get her 
 partners. — Ah, but that was not quite what she meant. They 
 didn't exactly know who to apply to, about 
 
 At this juncture the Reverend, having caught part of their 
 conversation, good-naturedly broke in with — 
 
 " Oh, certainly, you must come to the Ball, Miss Binkie. 
 Your mother has been telling me there's some difficulty about 
 getting cards, but that can't be allowed to stand in the way for 
 a moment. If you like, Mrs. Binkie, I'll put your name down 
 on the committee's list — and see some of the ladies about 
 it myself," he added, as he suddenly recollected what 
 would inevitably happen to the said name, if left to stand 
 by itself. 
 
 " Now that's what I call down-right friendly, that is," ex- 
 claimed Mrs. Binkie enthusiastically. " Do have some more 
 champagne," under the impression that she was rewarding his 
 promised good offices by a wholly unusual luxury. "And the 
 Dook, now ; I suppose he'll really be there, will he? " 
 
 " Oh dear, yes. He's as keen on dancing now as he was 
 twenty years ago. He'll certainly be there, and is going to 
 take quite a big house party with him." 
 
 "Well, I'm sure it's really very kind of him, that it is. 
 And to people like you and me, now, which is only what you 
 might call common and ordinary, it seems very condescendin', 
 don't it? But there, you seem to know him almost like his 
 equal, you do. I suppose you see him quite often, now, 
 Mr. Yarboro?" 
 
 " Oh yes. He's my uncle, you see," said the cleric, helping 
 himself to port before passing the decanter. 
 
 Mrs. Binkie could have bitten her tongue out with vexation. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 93 
 
 Septimus pulled himself up short, in the act of conveyhig 
 a piece of preserved ginger to his mouth. Trousers opened 
 his vacuous blue eyes ^vide^ than ever. 
 
 " Oh ! really ! " he squeaked, and then incontinently ' dried 
 up.' 
 
 Mrs. Binkie was the first to recover her outward equa- 
 nimity. Largely mingled with her annoyance at having assumed 
 a patronising air to the ' scion of a noble house,' as she 
 afterwards described him, was the delight she felt at having 
 thus entertained an angel unawares. That the nephew of a 
 duke should be seated at her table, his next-door-to-ducal legs 
 beneath her own mahogan}- — this was glory indeed. ' Binkie's 
 Composites ' seemed to be left very far astern now. 
 
 " I'm sure, sir — ahem, I sure, Mr. "(the plain ' Mr.' 
 
 seemed almost sacrilege in her mouth now) " Mr. Yarboro, 
 it's very kind of you to see about our getting tickets, and — 
 
 and " and here she came to a full stop. She wanted to say 
 
 something to the effect that he, Mr. Yarboro, might rely on 
 their behaving themselves properly at the ball, but was fortu- 
 nately deterred from so doing by a dim fear that perhaps it 
 would not be quite correct. Not exactly knowing whether to 
 say anything of the kind or not, she took the wise course of 
 signalling to her daughter, and amid the noise of chairs being 
 pushed back and feet shuffling on the parquet flooring, the 
 ladies left their lords and masters in undisturbed possession of 
 the wines and a very choice box of Septimus's regalias, which 
 he promptly proceeded to push round the table. 
 
 " Gave one-and-three apiece for these, 'olesale," he observed, 
 with a solemn air; •' and then I had to take ten boxes." 
 
 " Indeed," answered the Piector, as he took his third whiff. 
 
94 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 " They seem very good ; very good, indeed. By the way," he 
 added, turning to Trousers, sitting open-mouthed and staring 
 straight in front of him, " have you still got that good-looking 
 runaway ? I saw you on him, one day last week — or was it 
 you, Sir Thomas," turning to Fitzsquander. 
 
 Before the latter could reply, Jack cut in with — 
 
 " No ; it's more likely that you saw Fitzsquander off' him ! " 
 
 " Shut up," growled Tommy savagely. 
 
 Then Travers, striking a match and holding it alight, 
 squeaked out — 
 
 " Oh no ; I sold him." 
 
 " Yes, and I bought him," chimed in Eonald Dennison. " I 
 think he's a good horse, if you can hold him." 
 
 "And sit on him," put in Jack maliciously, " eh. Tommy ? " 
 
 But Tommy took no notice. It was so extremely vulgar 
 of Jack to make these allusions. The Baronet merely blew 
 clouds of blue smoke from the one-and-threepenny up to 
 the ceiling, and watched them as they wreathed themselves 
 around above his head. 
 
 " Well, take care he doesn't run right into the middle of the 
 pack," laughed the Piector. "He frightened Archie Crocker, 
 one day, by sailing with him." 
 
 " Oh, I'm by no means looking forward to an easy time, at 
 first," said Dennison ; " but ' beggars can't be choosers,' and if 
 I couldn't pick up cheap horses, I couldn't afford to hunt 
 at all. And if you ride cheap hunters, well, naturally, 
 there's something or other not quite right about them ; if 
 they're sound (and a really sound horse is a bit of a luxury 
 for me to get hold of), why, then they've got a pain in their 
 tempers." 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 95 
 
 " Yes, that's true. But somehow, your screws, rips, and 
 wretches manage to get you — or rather, i/oii manage to get 
 tJieni — over the country all right. Are they really all cheap 
 ones'?" said the Eector, bending forward confidentially. 
 
 Eonald laughed. 
 
 " I haven't paid a pony for any one of the three I've got 
 now," he said. 
 
 " Well, then, you're a very wonderful man, that's all I can 
 say. When are you coming out again, Mr. Binkie ? " 
 
 " Oh, really ! I haven't got a gee-gee, you know. I want 
 to buy one — a nice quiet one, you know." 
 
 "One's no good to you. Go over to Fobbs, at Cutaway 
 Mount, and I daresay you'll find two or three that will 
 suit you. Mind you, I am not recommending the more or 
 less excellent Fobbs as a paragon of human perfection in 
 himself : you must keep your eyes open when you are dealing 
 with him. But he's just the man to find you three or four 
 real good hunters." 
 
 "Is it really necessary, sir, to have so many as that, 
 now?" struck in Septimus. Although an extremely rich 
 man, Septimus Binkie, like a good many others who have 
 made their money themselves, liked to have a voice in the 
 spending of it. 
 
 "Well, you certainly couldn't see much of hounds, in a 
 country like this, with less than half-a-dozen hunters." 
 
 " Gorblessmysoulyoudon'tsayso ! " exclaimed the astonished 
 Binkie Senior, in one unpunctuated gasp. And after another 
 quarter of an hour's smoke, port, and desultory conversation, 
 a move was made, and they left to join the ladies in the 
 drawing-room. On the way there, Travers took the oppor- 
 
96 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 tunity of whispering to Dennison, as he phickecl him rather 
 nervously by the sleeve — 
 
 "I say, you know, you needn't mention anything about 
 — about that lady, you know — the one I introduced you to at 
 Aldridge's the other day, you know. She's — er — well, she's 
 not — not quite " 
 
 Eonald Dennison smiled at Travers's hesitancy. 
 
 " No," he said. " She was not quite. I saw that." 
 
 " Oh, really ! " squeaked Travers, and then the}' entered the 
 sanctum of the fairer part of creation, and the conversation 
 dropped. 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 CHEZ FOBBS. 
 
 Mr. Edward Fobbs, of Cuta-svay Mount, was an estimable man 
 (from some points of view), and a horse-dealer by birth. No, 
 reader, I am not making a mistake in saying this. He was, 
 really. That is, his father was a horse-dealer before him, and 
 there wasn't a trick of the trade unknown to Ned Fobbs 
 when he attained the age of fifteen. Fobbs ptTe was con- 
 ducting a very flourishing business at the time his career 
 was temporarily cut short by receiving a seven years' 
 appointment at Portland — something in the stone-quarrying 
 line. He had forgotten his own name, and signed somebody- 
 else's to a cheque for a large amount. During this period of 
 retirement, Fobbs fils, playfully known as ' Honest Edward,' 
 because he was the most astounding truth- crusher and the 
 ' smartest ' horse-dealer in the country, carried on the 
 business, and did it right well — from the dealer's point of 
 view, hien cnteiidu. What his wares, perchance, lacked in 
 form, youth, quality, or what not, was always amply made up 
 for by Edward's soft and honeyed tongue. Eeport said that 
 this mis-called ' unruly member ' had a rough side to it ; but 
 if so, none of his customers had ever experienced it. Probably 
 any choice gems of speech which he may have possessed were 
 exclusively reserved for his dependants. ' Honest Edward ' 
 
 H.H. H 
 
98 
 
 THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 
 
 knew horses well, but he knew men even better, and this gift 
 was of invaluable aid to him in his deals. His favourite saying, 
 in the strict privacy of his family, and one which he always 
 strenuously impressed upon his son, whom he was striving to 
 bring up as great a genius as himself, was: "You deal in 
 horses, but you deal with men." 
 
 To this worthy, enter Mr. Travers Algernon Binkie and 
 Mr. .Jack Dashwood. Sir Tommy had been suddenly sum- 
 moned to town, and the summons in question was one before 
 the .Judge at Chambers. This alone prevented his being 
 present to look after his own interests, if anything in the 
 nature of a commission were going. As he was physically 
 unable to imitate the example of Sir Boyle Ptoche's far-famed 
 bird, and be in two places at once, he had, /ante de mienx, to 
 
 trust to Jack, "most unwillingly d — d unwillingly!" as 
 
 he murmured to himself, when setting out on his unpleasant 
 mission to the great metropolis. " However," he reflected, 
 " at a dealer's there'll probably be nothing to get ; " and so he 
 resigned himself to his fate with a comparatively light heart. 
 
 As they drove over in the high-wheeled dogcart, Jack said 
 confidentially to his friend — 
 
 " Now, everybody knows you're a rich chap, and of course 
 a horse-dealer, above all people, will try to stick on the price. 
 Suppose you let me do the bargaining, Trousers, eh ? I shall 
 get whatever you want much cheaper than you will." 
 
 And Travers consented gladly, little suspecting that he was 
 thus virtually increasing the price of whatever he bought 
 for the express benefit of Mr. Dashwood and Sir Thomas 
 Fitzsquander. 
 
 Mr. Fobbs received them in his smartly gravelled yard, hat 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIKE HUNT. 99 
 
 in hand, and conducted them into his Httle office. He rang 
 the yard bell, ostensibly to summon his head man, but really 
 to give the signal for a general removal of bandages, cold 
 water swabs, crib-biting muzzles, &c. A glass of brown sherry 
 was discussed, whilst Jack explained the business they had 
 come upon. Then the head man appeared, which meant that 
 everything was in readiness, and ' Honest Edward ' led the 
 way to Loose-box No. 1. 
 
 Just let us pause to ask a question that has long been 
 puzzling us. Why is there a Loose-box No. 1 at all in dealers' 
 stables? No one has ever, we are morally certain, bought a 
 horse since the beginning of the world out of Loose-box No. 1. 
 Probably the horse standing in it is never meant to be sold ! 
 It is merely there to act as a foil to the rest, or something to 
 whet our appetite for what is coming. Nevertheless, the stock 
 beast in No. 1 has to be inspected. It is part of the rites. 
 
 This particular fraud was a flea-bitten grey with a very 
 ' tucked up ' middle piece. He emitted a truly awful sound, 
 half groan, half cough, as Mr. Fobbs opened the door, which 
 would have effectually stalled off any buyer. 
 
 " No, I don't think he'd suit you, sir," said the dealer, 
 hastily passing on to the next box. " Good horse, too," he 
 added, in a tone intended to convey the information that none 
 but good horses ever found even a temporary abiding place in 
 that high-class establishment. 
 
 "Now here's a genuine hunter. A gentleman's horse, that 
 is," exclaimed Mr. Fobbs, quite unconscious of the irony 
 of his statement, if his words were to be taken literally. 
 
 The animal under discussion was a big-boned, Roman-nosed 
 brown, with great ragged hips that you could hang your 
 
 H 2 
 
100 
 
 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 hat on. He stood well over sixteen hands, and looked like 
 carrying as many stone to hounds. 
 
 " Cost me a lot of money, that horse did. I bought him for 
 the Honourable Spanker, at the beginning of the cubbing 
 season, but he — well, he went abroad, and ain't going to hunt 
 this year. The Honourable Spanker he took a wonderful 
 fancy to this horse ; said it was just his mark. I daresay you 
 gentlemen know the Honourable ? No ? heavyish gentleman 
 he is. He said he'd have given me two 'underd for him— if 
 he hadn't just gone into the Bankruptcy Court." 
 
 " How old is he ? " asked Jack, who had been going through 
 the usual leg feeling process. 
 
 " Seven year old, sir." Nota bene, that every aged horse 
 anything 'past mark' in a dealer's stable is seven. "Ee- 
 markable horse he is," went on Mr. Fobbs, rather hurriedly, as 
 though a little wishful to pass over the subject of the animal's 
 age. " No day too long for him, and jump ! well, there ! " and 
 the shake of the head that accompanied the last statement 
 made Travers's eyes bulge right out in astonishment. 
 
 "Does he ever run away?" ventured that gentleman's 
 piping treble. 
 
 " Best o' manners, sir ; best o' manners. There, I won't 
 have 'em in my place, if they ain't good-mannered ones. I 
 buy horses to sell to gentlemen," said the dealer, sententiously, 
 "not to horse-breakers; and so they've got to be good man- 
 nered, that's what I always say. They've got to be good 
 mannered." 
 
 " Oh, really ! and do they know they've got to be good 
 mannered ? ' ' 
 
 Mr. Fobbs looked at him to see if 'chaff' was meant; but 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. loi 
 
 the vacuous blue eye had no latent mischief in it ; it looked 
 simply stately in its solid idiotcy. 
 
 "You'd like to see the horse out, sir, wouldn't you? Can 
 see him over the fences — ride him over 'em, if you like. 
 Strip this horse, Palmer," turning to the head man. " That'll 
 do. Now go and tell Tom to bring a saddle and bridle. These 
 gentlemen would like to see him over the fences." 
 
 'Honest Edward' then led the way out into the yard 
 again, and pressed his customers to have just one glass more 
 of the brown sherry in his office. He thought, by the look of 
 him, that Travers might very likely need a little ' jumping 
 powder ' before he summoned up courage enough to get on to 
 a strange horse, and ride him over fences. It was necessary 
 also — or at all events, highly desirable — that they should not 
 be present when the Eoman-nosed one emerged from the 
 stable, for, truth to tell, he required a little of the ' warming 
 up ' process before being at his best. He was a good horse, 
 and had been worth a lot of money in his day ; but at fourteen 
 (which was his real age) it may be well imagined that he was 
 a bit stiff on first coming out. 
 
 As to his fencing capabilities, 'you couldn't get him down,' 
 as the saying goes, and nothing short of an earthquake, or 
 President Kruger's Indemnity Bill, would suffice to frighten 
 him. The dealer knew he was playing quite a safe card in 
 showing the veteran over fences. 
 
 After Tom (whose mission in life it was to ride anything at 
 anything, for the modest weekly stipend of 1/.) had ridden the 
 old horse over the bushed-up hurdles, the water — supplied 
 by a length of hose into a dug-out ditch, dammed (and 
 pretty freely, too, sometimes) at one end — and a low, white- 
 
102 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 painted gate, all put up in the jumping paddock attached 
 to the house, Trousers was invited to get up and " satisfy 
 himself." 
 
 Trousers felt quite satisfied to remain on foot, if the truth 
 must be confessed, but inspired by the sherry, and urged 
 unto noble deeds by Jack Dashwood, he determined to mount 
 the ' fiery untamed.' 
 
 So the exchange was effected, i.e., Travers Algernon Binkie 
 vice Tom, resigned. Mr. Binkie rode away up the paddock, 
 wrestling with the mental problem of whether he should, or 
 should not, attempt one of the ' leps ' — the lowest, for choice. 
 But long before he could arrive at any solution of the diffi- 
 culty, Fate took the matter in hand, as she does so often and 
 in so many unsuspected ways. The veteran hunter, to whom 
 the jumping of fences had grown so much a matter of habit 
 that he merely regarded the aftair with a bored air, and as 
 if he wished to get done with what he doubtless considered 
 tomfoolery, as soon as possible, suddenly cocked his ears at 
 the flight of hurdles towards which Travers had unconsciously 
 been riding him, broke into a canter, and before our friend 
 could snatch at his head to stop him, was gently over and 
 blobbing away on the far side. 
 
 So easy had been the action that Mr. Binkie had hardly 
 been shifted a bit — for him — a matter which afforded him a 
 profound sense of gratification. Like a wise and prudent 
 man, he resolved not to risk anything further in the saltatory 
 way, and returned at once to where Dashwood and the dealer 
 stood in conference. 
 
 "What are you going to take for the horse?" Jack had 
 asked as soon as Travers had ridden out of earshot. 
 
IN FOBBS S PADDOCK. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. io= 
 
 " Well, he's a genuine horse, that. I couldn't take less 
 than what the Honourable Spanker was going to give me." 
 
 " but didn't ! " said Jack sarcastically. The Honourable 
 
 Spanker yarn was all very well for Binkie, but Jack knew 
 these pretty little fables of the 'yards.' He had been there 
 before. 
 
 "That's nothing to do with it," said 'Honest Edward.' 
 " There's nothing against the horse " 
 
 " Except that he's as old as a man," interjected Mr. Dash- 
 wood, flipping the end oft" his cigar. 
 
 Mr. Fobbs scanned him narrowly. " I'll take a 'underd 
 and eighty for him — not a shillin' less," he said, and then 
 watched Jack from the corner of his eye to see the efi'ect of 
 his announcement. 
 
 " H'm. And where do I come in ? " coolly asked Jack. 
 
 " Oh, there's no margin off tJiat price, I do assure ye. 
 There's no room for any ' comin' in.' " 
 
 Jack blew a cloud of smoke from his lips, buttoned up his 
 coat, and said — 
 
 " Then there's no buyer, Mr. Fobbs, that's all. Otherwise 
 I think I should have advised my friend to have him." 
 
 ' Honest Edward ' saw that he was dealing with as clever 
 a gentleman as himself. Binkie was returning, so he said 
 quickly in interrogative tones — 
 
 " Shillin's on the guineas, then '? " and Mr. Dashwood 
 nodded his head in token of agreement. 
 
 " Eipping good horse this, Trousers ; and, by Jove, you 
 rode him over those hurdles deuced well." Then, as the 
 delighted Binkie got off, sticking out what he thought was his 
 chest, proudly, at the imminent risk of splitting his fancy- 
 
io6 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 check waistcoat, Jack took him by the lappel of his coat, and 
 in low and confidential tones, said: "You must buy him, old 
 chap. I've been pumping Fobbs, and I think — mind, I only 
 think — I can get him for a hundred and eighty guineas. Of 
 course, he mai/ stick out for his price — two hundred. Do you 
 think you would go to two ? No ? Well then, we'll try for him 
 at one eighty, eh ? Or shall we split the difference and go to 
 one ninety ? Shall I buy him at the best price I can, eh ? " 
 
 " I think I'll only say one eighty, you know. Pa said I 
 wasn't to give an awful lot of money, you know." 
 
 " All right ; leave it to me. I'll settle about the price of this 
 one before we see any more horses," and taking Mr. Fobbs 
 aside, he said — 
 
 " My friend is a buyer if I let his head loose. You under- 
 stand, I'll recommend him to give one hundred and seventy 
 pounds " 
 
 " And look what I should have got from the Honourable 
 Spanker ! " 
 
 " Damn the Honourable Spanker," replied Jack with easy 
 nonchalance. "I shall bring you his father's cheque. The 
 amount of it is nothing to do with you, except as to your one 
 seventy j^ounds, remember. Is it a whizz? " 
 
 The dealer nodded. He was rather annoyed at not having 
 secured Binkie direct, so that all the spoils might have gone 
 into his own pocket ; but on the principle that ' Half-a-loaf is 
 better than no bread,' he was fairly satisfied with the deal. 
 A ' mug ' of the Binkie order is getting more and more of a 
 rara avis in these days of almost universal 'cuteness. Jack 
 knew when he had got hold of a good thing, and he meant to 
 keep it. He rejoined Binkie, and said — 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. lo: 
 
 " I've managed to get j'ou the horse, old chap, after an 
 awfnl tussle with Fobbs. He swore, at first, that Spanker 
 had offered him two hmidred and " 
 
 " Oh, really ! " squeaked Travers, '' and why didn't he take 
 it, then ? " 
 
 This was rather a ' sticker,' as the questions of children 
 and idiots often are. 
 
 "Well, you see, it — it apparently didn't suit Spanker " 
 
 " Oh, really ! Then was it a sort of misfit, do you 
 mean? " 
 
 " No, no. I mean it didn't suit Spanker to pay ' read}' ' 
 for it, you see. Spanker was going abroad, or into the 
 Bankruptcy Court, or to blazes, or somewhere or other, it 
 doesn't matter which. But the horse is really worth the 
 money, and I told Fobbs you'd go to one ninety for him. 
 Guineas, I mean," he added, as he saw that Travers's face 
 didn't express so much disapproval as he had expected. 
 
 This matter being concluded to the satisfaction of all parties 
 concerned — " of course, subject to his passing the Yet.," 
 said Mr. Dashwood to Mr. Fobbs — ^they again adjourned to 
 the long low range of stabling, and saw the contents of five 
 more loose boxes and sixteen stalls before coming to anything 
 they thought worth having out. Then a nice-looking grey 
 arrested Mr. Dashwood's attention. 
 
 " What's this, Mr. Fobbs '? " he asked. 
 
 " Well, now, it's funny as you've stopped at this horse, 
 because he's one I meant for you to see in particular. This is 
 a horse by Capulet " 
 
 " Oh, really ! " squeaked Binkie, his eyes starting out of his 
 head as he heard the dreaded name of Marmion's sire. " I — 
 
io8 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 I — don't think I like the look of this horse. Jack. We'll try 
 some other, I think; " and 'Honest Edward,' rather astonished, 
 passed on to a box at the other end of the stable. 
 
 " Good-looking young horse this, and as good as he's good- 
 looking, so they tell me. I don't hunt myself, so of course I 
 can't say, but my man he tells me this is a surprisin' horse 
 with hounds." 
 
 "Oh, really!" said Travers, dubiously. He had no 
 particular fancy for ' surprisin' ' horses ; in fact, he enter- 
 tained the very strongest preference for quiet ones. 
 
 " Strip this horse," said the dealer to an attendant satellite, 
 and the clothing was taken off a very good-looking bay, with 
 black points. A well-topped horse, with legs like bars of 
 steel, a grand shoulder with great girth and power visible 
 everywhere, he looked a hunter all over. Jack gazed at him 
 spell-bound with admiration. 
 
 " Can we see him out '? " he asked. 
 
 ' Honest Edward ' slightly raised his hat and scratched his 
 head, as though not quite prepared with an answer to the 
 query. 
 
 " We — ell, you see, now, as to that horse — you see, I'm 
 half afraid of taking him out of the stable to-day. Horse 
 has had a narsetty cold, on him — a real narsetty cold, it is 
 — for a fortnight, and he's hardly, as you may say, got rid 
 of it yet. I should be a'most afraid for you to gallop or jump 
 him just yet." 
 
 " Touched in the wind," said Jack to himself, as they 
 turned away. "Now here's a neat, cobby-looking, little 
 black. Let's have him out, Mr. Fobbs." 
 
 " Certainly, sir, certainly," replied that worthy, with 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 log 
 
 alacrity, turning to a gaitered and linen- jacketed groom in 
 order to give the necessary instructions. 
 
 Mr. Dashwood mounted this one, and cantered him up first 
 
 'HONEST EDWARD. 
 
 to the hurdles, then to a low bank, and finally to an artificial 
 brush fence, all of which he jumped with a ministerial air, 
 which gave the impression of a finished performer over a 
 country. Travers then got on to the cobby one's back ; 
 
no THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 declined the honour of jumping him, professed himself 
 satisfied, and eventually, through Mr. Dashwood's good offices, 
 became his purchaser for ^Yhat looked like the very low 
 sum of sixty pounds; whereupon 'Honest Edward' chortled 
 secretly, for this particular animal had hung on hand for 
 weeks, being returned as often as he had been sold on Mr. 
 Fobbs's guarantee that he was a good hunter ; the fact being, 
 that nothing on earth would induce him to even jump 
 through a gap when out with hounds ; he had been taught 
 to get over the made fences in the dealer's paddock, just 
 as a circus horse is taught to tire oft" guns, and pick up a 
 handkerchief with its teeth. The brute would have gone 
 on jumping these particular obstacles all day long, but never 
 a thing would he look at when really wanted to cross a 
 country. For that purpose, he was about as useful as the 
 average milch cow, and, as he would not go in harness, and 
 was a wretched hack, Fobbs was well out of him — and 
 finally so, this time, as he had taken the precaution of 
 saying nothing about his hunting capacity to either Binkie 
 or Jack. ' Good hunter ' warranty means (so says the 
 official definition) ' capable of being hunted,' as well as 
 ' sound wind and eyes ; ' and as no man born of woman had 
 ever succeeded in getting him out of the first enclosed 
 field in pursuit of hounds, there could hardly be much 
 argument on the subject of whether the horse was a 
 good hunter. Finally it was arranged that Jack should ride 
 or drive across on the morrow morning, with the parental 
 cheque, the horses being, meantime, sent over to The Chase, 
 in charge of one of Mr. Fobbs's men. 
 
 On their way homewards, Binkie, a big cigar stuck in the 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. iii 
 
 corner of his mouth, was inclined to talk large, and wax 
 bumptious on the subject of hunting and his hunters. He 
 felt, in truth, somewhat unduly elated, at having been 
 (involuntarily) carried over the hurdles without what naval 
 architects call a ' displacement,' and argued to himself that 
 he must really be something out of the common to have 
 managed so well on a strange horse. 
 
 " I think I've bought a couple of damfine hunters, 3'ou 
 know. Jack." 
 
 "Yes," replied that gallant sportsman. "I think the big'un 
 '11 carry me awfully well — I mean you," he added, hastily. 
 
 "And the black's a nailing little horse, ain't he"? I 
 tell you what, Jack ; you shall ride him, and I'll ride the 
 big'un, the day after to-morrow. Hounds are at Garraways 
 — that's not more than a mile or two beyond the Dog 
 Kennels, is it '?" 
 
 "Kennels, dear boy; not Dog Kennels, please," mildly 
 put in Jack. " I accept your offer, Trousers mine ! and 
 a-hunting we will go-o-o, a-hunting we will go ! " he warbled 
 gaily, as they turned in at the lodge gates. 
 
 On the following day, Mr. Jack Dashwood drove over 
 with a cheque signed by Mr. Septimus Binkie, and drawn 
 in favour of Mr. Edward Fobbs ; that cheque was duly 
 ' cut up ' between the payee and Mr. Dashwood, and the 
 last-named gentleman returned to The Chase. The after- 
 noon was spent in smoking cigars in and about the stables, 
 and in deciphering a missive in the somewhat erratic 
 caligraphy of Sir Thomas Fitzsquander, Baronet, which 
 the second post had brought to Travers Binkie, Esq. It 
 ran as follows — 
 
112 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 " EoYAL Courts of Justice, 
 
 "Bar Waiting- room. 
 " My dear Trousers, 
 
 " I've just slipped in here to write you a line about 
 
 the proceedings to-day ; this is the barristers' room where I 
 
 am writing, No Admittance for anybody else, but I just 
 
 put on a pre-oecupied, hunted-to-death look, and the cove in 
 
 uniform at the door stepped out of the way, and in I came. 
 
 Well, my case is adjourned till Thursday, so it ain't worth 
 
 while coming down till after it's over. At to-day's proceedings 
 
 one of the things they asked me was a poser, 
 
 " ' Why don't you pay this debt ? ' ' Ask me an easier one,' 
 I said ; and then the judge looked like thunder, and the other 
 side's Counsel glared, and my Counsel drove his elbow into 
 my ribs, and it was generally impressed on me that that 
 wasn't the way to answer legal conundrums. When, at last, 
 I escaped from the beastly place, I felt I really must have 
 been guilty of something very much more awful than the 
 non-payment of a long-standing account. I began to wish I 
 could change places with a dynamiter, because, by the aid of 
 a tender-hearted Home Secretary, acting on the information 
 o£ a doctor, who, to bolster up his colleague, says one thing 
 while he means another, I should be sure to escape the 
 consequences of my acts, however diabolical they were. 
 
 " I'm wondering if you've bought anything at Fobb {sic) ; 
 if so, I hope it's a good fenser (sic). 
 
 " Yours to a chip, 
 
 " Tommy. 
 
 "P.S. — If I ain't in Holloway Gaol by Thursday night, I 
 shall be down with you Friday morning, so send cart to meet 
 the 12 o'clock train, there's a good chap." 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 113 
 
 "Poor Tommy! what a silly fool he is to get into debt," 
 said the high falsetto. "Which is a sentiment largely in vogue 
 with all people who, like Binkie Jmiior, have more money 
 at command than they know what to do with, and conveniently 
 ignore the fact that others are not alwaj's so happily placed 
 as themselves. 
 
 As they were sitting on the corn -bin, dangling their legs 
 at their ease, chatting and smoking, another conversation was 
 taking place over the partition of two stalls in front of them, 
 between Jack's hireling hmiter — standing well over at the 
 knees, spare of flesh, and pretty well ' tucked up ' with hard 
 work — and the new, cobb}' little black horse. As the colloquy 
 was conducted in cquinesi', it was, of course, unintelligible to our 
 two friends. We will, however, venture on an interpretation. 
 
 "You look prett}' fat and well, young fellow!" said the 
 hireling, laying his muzzle across the top of the partition. 
 " I'm as lean as a rake, and the hunting season not yet a 
 month old." 
 
 "Yes, but you see I've not reall}' been doing any hunting. 
 Fact is, I'm a fraud — don't jump, you know," answered the 
 new comer, chewing at a straw. 
 
 " Eeally ! But you'll have to hunt here, you know. I 
 expect you'll be detailed (no offence to 3'our caudal appendage, 
 my friend, though it is a bit like a shaving brush) for duty 
 next hunting day. I hope you won't be as hard-worked as 
 I am." 
 
 " Not me. Y'ou can put your last feed of Scotch oats, to a 
 handful of dusty Russians, on that ! " 
 
 " Well, how do you work it ? I wish I knew the trick." 
 
 " Oh, it's easy enough. I go along gaily till we come to the 
 
 H.H. I 
 
114 ^^^ HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 first fence, where I promptly chuck it. If I've got a good man 
 up, there's a row royal, and I sometimes get a bit knocked 
 about in the rough-and-tumble. If he's a mug — excuse the 
 slang, but I've lived so much in dealers' stables that I can't 
 really help it — I precious soon get rid of him. My great dodge 
 is either to turn round and kick at the fence until my rider 
 gets sick of it, or else rear. Either is effective. Anyhow, they 
 can't get me over any of their ridiculous obstacles." 
 
 "But then you can't go after hounds?" objected the 
 veteran. "I suppose you don't care for hunting?" 
 
 " No. Blow hunting ! Hunting is all very fine for the long- 
 legged idiots whom we have to carry, but not for us poor 
 horses. At least, that's my opinion." 
 
 " Well, it isn't mine. You see, I love hunting. I often 
 think that nothing would please me more than to hunt rider- 
 less. You'd feel so much more certain of getting over your 
 fences without anybody on your back. As it is, you have to 
 take care of the bigger fool of the two, and think for both." 
 
 "I don't suppose I shall remain here long," thoughtfully 
 observed the cobby one. " I'm always returned after the first 
 experience with hounds, you know. It's rather fun," he 
 added, chuckling. "I can beat 'em all. Twice they have had 
 a regular good try with a rough-rider, to get me to follow 
 hounds. But each time it's ended the same way." 
 
 "AVhat did you do then?" asked the hireling, with a 
 ])reathless interest. 
 
 " Laid down with the beggar ! " was the answer, given with 
 a horse laugh. " That had 'em ! " 
 
 " Then you've never jumped at all, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Then you suppose wrong, my friend. I've no objection to 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 115 
 
 popping over hurdles, etc., in a paddock, when I know there 
 are no hounds about, and I can't be called on for one of those 
 distressing days' hunting, which knock the stuffing out of one 
 for a whole week afterwards. I think it's my willingness at 
 that game which catches the flats ; they buy me, fondly 
 imagining that I'm going to hunt. Not me ! " and he negli- 
 gently rested the near hind leg, vice the off one, which, 
 throughout the foregoing conversation, had been lazily kept 
 in repose. 
 
 "You're pretty 'cute, I see, my young friend," returned the 
 veteran in admiring tones, " but from a sporting point of 
 view, you're no horse." 
 
 " From my own point of view, my excellent heirloom, I'm 
 no ass ! " was the retort; and then the cobby little black scraped 
 away some of the straw beneath his forelegs preparatory to 
 indulging in a comfortable nap. 
 
 i2 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE HUNT BALL AT MUDBURY. 
 
 It was an especially merciful thing that the elements were 
 propitious upon the night of the Hunt Ball. The little town 
 of Mudbury was none too well-lighted, and had the night 
 proved a dark one, many, we fear, would have been the col- 
 lisions and coxtretemjys arising from the vast stream of vehicles, 
 which began, about a quarter past nine o'clock, to first trickle, 
 and then pour, into the open space which lay just in front of 
 the Corn Exchange. The barouche containing Mrs. Pippin- 
 chipper and the three Misses Pippinchipper was the actual first 
 to arrive, but the elder lady, quickly guessing at the situation, 
 and holding it to be little less than a crime to take the 
 initiative in such a case, promptly ordered her fat old coach- 
 man to "drive on," which he did with a very bad grace, as he 
 had arranged to take a hand at ' all fours ' in the bar-parlour 
 of the ' Spotted Dog ' early that evening. Two minutes after 
 the Pippinchipper carriage had driven away for a turn up the 
 town. Alderman Muggins (who, as the owner of two useful 
 coverts, in which he strictly preserved foxes, was persona c/rata 
 with the Hunt), Mrs. Alderman Muggins, and one Master 
 Muggins, arrived. With some delay — for the lad}^ was of the 
 ample kind, and the carriage-door not wide — Mrs. Muggins was 
 extracted from the vehicle, and conveyed by her husband and 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 117 
 
 son up the steps and into the brilhantly-hghted hall. Hardly 
 had the good lady entered the cloak-room and divested herself 
 of her multifarious wraps, than two more of the softer sex were 
 shown in — Mrs. and Miss Holder-Loof — who ' didn't know ' 
 Mrs. Muggins, so kept their glances studiously directed the other 
 way, and not all the efforts of the Alderman's wife sufficed to 
 catch the vacant eye, which saw nothing that it didn't want 
 to see. After another two minutes, the cloak-room began to 
 till up, and then the chatter of greetings, directions to the 
 attendants, requests for more light on the mirrors, and an 
 extra supply of pins, here and there, soon became almost 
 deafening. Shoes were changed, mufflers cast aside, fairy 
 eye-lashes disentangled, noses powdered, and then the irregular 
 infantry filed slowly out towards the field of battle, thoroughly 
 prepared for conquest. 
 
 The Corn Exchange at Mudbury, as everyone knows, 
 adjoins the ' Duke of Haughtyshire's Arms,' and from that 
 excellent hostelry the refreshments and supper were to l)e 
 provided. One of the last of the old coaching inns, this, 
 everything was done right well there, from a loin-chop to a 
 gorgeous banquet, and the customer might safely rely upon 
 all being of the best. We ourselves are an angel that this 
 house has often entertained unawares. Waiters were even 
 now constantly running in from the hotel, with relays of rolled 
 l)read-and-butter, cakes, coffee, and tea, for the delectation of all 
 who chose to partake of them, and following the waiters, kicking 
 out their legs, arranging buttonholes, or drawing on gloves a 
 size too small for them, came some half-dozen or so young 
 gentlemen of the ' unattached ' brigade, who had taken up 
 their quarters for the night at the once famous posting-house, 
 
ii8 
 
 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 as a convenient pied a terre. Close behind these came, also 
 from the hotel, a party of four, three of whom were regular 
 followers of the Haughtyshire Hounds, who had had a little 
 dinner there, before tackling the real business of the evening. 
 The fourth, who had been their guest, was a distinguished 
 foreigner. Monsieur le Baron Stepitoff, of uncertain nationality 
 — some said Russian, others Pole ; nobody really knew. 
 
 "What is he? " asked Charley Thruster of our friend, the 
 Hon. Archv Crocker, the former owner of Marmion. 
 
 "Don't know exactly. Russian, or Scandinavian, or Pole; 
 something or other from the North." 
 
 "North Pole, perhaps ? " queried Charley, as they passed 
 on together into the dance-room, where the musicians were 
 already tuning up. 
 
 The next to arrive on the gay scene were the Binkies and 
 their house-party. Penelope was looking her loveliest — and 
 Penelope's loveliest was very lovely indeed — her wavy hair 
 parted low down upon the forehead, her sweet blue eyes, fringed 
 with their long dark lashes, her slight, willowy figure, set off 
 to perfection by the plain white dress she wore, the very poise 
 of her head, all were as eminently calculated to attract mas- 
 culine attention as to excite feminine disapproval. Monsieur 
 le Baron at once singled her out, as she entered the room, 
 and straightway appealed to his dinner host for an intro- 
 duction. 
 
 Mrs. Binkie was somewhat astonishingly 'got up.' In the 
 brightest of violet satin dresses, slashed with white, nodding 
 feathers on her head, and diamonds affixed to every part of 
 her person where diamonds could possibly be placed, she formed 
 so extraordinary a contrast to Penelope, that it was hard indeed 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 119 
 
 to grasp the great fact that the}' were mother and child, and 
 we are inclmed to agree that Monsieur le Baron Stepitoff 
 
 HERR LAGERBIER. 
 
 was more than justified, when on being informed of this, he 
 exclaimed — 
 
 " Pas imssihh ! a freak of nature ! ! " 
 
 Nevertheless he obtained his coveted introduction to 
 
120 THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Mademoiselle, and as soon as the music commenced he 
 whirled her away into the mazy intricacies of the first 
 dance. 
 
 Septimus had been obliged to accompany his wife and 
 family — very greatly against his will — and, as he stood with 
 his Cecilia leaning on his arm, close by the doorway, he 
 seemed just about as comfortable as a freshly-caught eel on 
 a marble slab. Sir Tommy and Jack Dashwood had given 
 Travers the slip, and were walking round and round the room, 
 arm-in-arm, endeavouring to make up their august minds 
 as to which of the girls should be honoured by invitations 
 to dance with them. 
 
 But now there is a commotion round the band-stand. Push- 
 ing his way through the palms and other evergreens, to a 
 place in the centre of the musicians, comes Herr Gersorsenger 
 Splitzen Lagerbier, the (7u/(Z'Orc7<t'.s?rt', specially engaged with 
 the Pea-Green Teutonic Band (said to be the private band 
 of his All-Serene Highness, the Elector of Sorsedge-Mete lind 
 Stinkewasser, who was Hereditary-Grand-Trousers- Stretcher 
 to His Imperial Majesty the Emperor). 
 
 Presenting the parting of his back hair towards his 
 patrons, Herr Lagerbier grasps his baton, and with a 
 preliminary " p'sst !" which quickly silences all chatter and 
 tuning up on the part of the Pea-Greens, gives the signal, 
 and the string-scrapers and wind-jammers alike let them- 
 selves go with a will. 
 
 The first dance was only half way through when a clatter 
 outside the main entrance of the Corn Exchange — footmen 
 shouting, waiters running down the stone steps, and the 
 champing of horses' bits — announced the arrival of the Duke 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 121 
 
 and his party. Lord Gravity had been all for delaying the 
 dinner at the Castle so that it would have been impossible to 
 get to the Ball until several of the items on the card had been 
 disposed of, but the Duke was inexorable. Even his son and 
 heir could not carry the opposition to more than a certain 
 length, and this was soon reached. His Grace loved dancing 
 much ; he loved pretty women even more ; and he meant to 
 get as much fun out of the Ball as possible. He therefore 
 fixed the dinner-hour early, and so managed to arrive in time 
 to ' take the floor ' just as the music of Herr Splitzen 
 Lagerbier's band heralded the commencement of the second 
 dance on the programme. 
 
 With the Duke came, of course. Lord Gravity. He arranged 
 his father's natty button-hole of Parma violets in his scarlet 
 dress-coat, and presented him with a pair of elegant lavender 
 'kids.' Gravity always deferred entrusting the Duke with 
 his gloves till the last moment, as His Grace had a fatal 
 weakness for mislaying all such ' unconsidered trifles ' as 
 these, just as he did handkerchiefs, cigarette cases, and return 
 halves of railway-tickets. Then, merely peeping into the 
 room in which the dancers were whirling round, a confused, 
 and to Gravity's eyes, blurred mass of chiffon and scarlet, 
 black and white tulle, he sighed gently for the time he would 
 have to waste — time which might have been so much better 
 employed in reading and gloating over the literary beauties of 
 Virgil or Horace — and then he meekly took a seat next to 
 Mrs. Joggletilt, who was chaperoning the four Miss Merry- 
 weathers. Mrs. Joggletilt was a lady sufficiently merciful to 
 her friends to confine herself, strictly, to square dances, now 
 that the inexorable scale warned her that, despite her constant 
 
122 THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 
 
 exertions in the saddle, fourteen stone was the lowest she 
 could walk. 
 
 Of the rest of the Castle party, there were the Rev. Geoffry. 
 Yarboro, who, although only a ' square ' dancer, yet always 
 thoroughly enjoyed the brilliant toilettes, the merry music, 
 and the gay sparkle of a ball ; two or three aristocratic 
 mammas, with their equally aristocratic daughters, and half- 
 a-dozen young sprigs of nobility for the latter to dance with. 
 One of the said daughters was just now revolving round 
 the room with the Ducal arm encircling her fairy waist. It 
 was too soon after dinner for His Grace to feel sentimental ; 
 still it was dawning on him that this was really a very pretty- 
 looking girl. He would take an opportunity, later on, of 
 sitting out a dance with her, in some pleasant little nook 
 where they would not be interrupted, and 
 
 But alas for human resolve ! At that precise moment the 
 Ducal eye fell on the beautiful face of Adela Comely, who had 
 just entered the ball-room, and stood at the door, surrounded 
 by men in the Hunt uniform, bowing and smirking, and 
 trying to outdo each other in paying Jju-dc-su'cle compliments, 
 as they solicited the honour of a dance. Adela had far too 
 good an eye for effect to arrive at the very beginning of the 
 evening. She had so timed matters that her entry into the 
 ball-room should not be made in the midst of a crowd of 
 counter-attractions. She wanted the field to herself — just as 
 you and I, my brother scribbler, try to get our books out at 
 the moment when they won't be swamped by the books of 
 other and better writers than ourselves, you know ! 
 
 Having secured one dance each, the little court, of which 
 Miss Comely was the reigning, and somewhat imperious, 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 123 
 
 monarch, slowly melted away, just as Ronald Dennison, who 
 had taken a bed at the ' Duke of Haughtyshh-e's Arms ' for 
 the night, came up, programme in hand. Ronald and Adela 
 were old friends — if truth must be told, old lovers. But in 
 this weary, work-a-day world, where Cupid, however active in 
 the prosecution of a suit, absolutely declines the honour of 
 finding the wherewithal to pay the butcher's bill for any 
 married couple, these two looked into each other's eyes, and 
 sighed, and — recognised the impossible. Nevertheless they 
 were the best of friends — they had acknowledged the unfor- 
 tunate existence of the commercial difficulty — that was all. 
 
 "Yes, Ronny, you can have number nine and fourteen. 
 And sixteen, too, unless — unless — well, you know," and 
 Adela's long black lashes dropped again, as he looked at the 
 state of her programme. Ronny nodded. 
 
 "Business is business, Ronny, eh?" and the girl laughed 
 softly. " If he wants several dances, I shan't be able to spare 
 you Ah, Duke, how are you? " 
 
 And after bowing with a pleasant smile to the mercurial 
 nobleman, Ronald Dennison sauntered away, repeating to 
 himself — 
 
 " ' Business is business,' as sweet Adela says, and I must 
 be looking after mine. I'm not so sure that my own isn't 
 mixed with a good deal of what one might call pleasure, too. 
 They say a man can't be in love with two women at the same 
 time. Don't believe it. I'm in love — or at least I was in 
 love — with Adela, and I'm really feeling very sweet upon that 
 dear little girl, Penelope. ^Yhat a pity she's got such an 
 awful cad of a father ! Never mind that — if he's a cad, she's 
 not a caddess. Old man must have heaps of money ; stuffed 
 
124 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 with it, I should think. I begin to fancy that my affaire de 
 ca'ur with Adela is on the wane, and I really believe she's 
 getting genuinely fond of Haughtyshire, although she pretends 
 she isn't to me. Well, he's a deuced good fellow, with all his 
 faults, and Adela would make him a model Duchess. But what 
 of poor Gravity? Would he call her 'Mamma,' I wonder! " 
 And the thought so tickled Ronald that he was still laughing 
 when he came face to face with Miss Penelope Binkie. 
 
 She had just been returned to the charge of her mother by 
 Monsieur le Baron, with whom she had had a most enjoyable 
 waltz. He had asked her for another, a little later on, and 
 then for a third. He was again making his way through the 
 crowd in her direction — after a very satisfactory interview 
 with his host as to the lady's pecuniary position — when 
 Dennison, with a shrewd guess as to how the land lay, 
 thought it time to cut in on his own behalf. He rapidly put 
 his name down on her programme for some three or four 
 dances, and immediately carried her off to a seat beneath 
 some tall palms, for a quiet chat. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Binkie still stood together in one corner of 
 the room, feeling somewhat 'out of it.' Mr. Yarboro had 
 been up and chatted a few minutes with them, as had 
 Mr. Eonald Dennison, but now they were left alone again. 
 
 Jack Dashwood and Sir Tommy had not thought it at all 
 inconsistent with their duty to their host and hostess to turn 
 their backs on them directly they arrived, and go off on 
 their own affairs. They also, by common consent, shunted 
 Travers, who hardly got a dance during the early portion of 
 the evening. Jack was hunting fruitlessly for heiresses, and 
 Tommy for some chance friend who w^'ould lend him a tenner, 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 125 
 
 Trousers having proved a useless ' draw ' during the last week 
 on account of some rather startling demands made upon his 
 privy purse by Miss Tottie Turnover. 
 
 PENELOPE. 
 
 Jack felt that fate had been especially hard upon him in 
 regard to Penelope Binkie. No one could call him a ' laggard 
 in love,' for within a week of being introduced — which was 
 only a reasonable time for making a few financial enquiries as 
 to her probable prospects — he had proposed to lay at the lady's 
 
126 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 dainty feet his hand and heart, and was much chagrined when 
 informed by her that she had absokitely no use for either of 
 them. However, Jack consoled himself by the thought that 
 there were plenty of women wanting husbands, and also with 
 the time-worn aphorism that there are ' as good fish in the 
 sea as ever came out of it.' In short, that ' the time will 
 come,' as the transpontine drama villain of our young days 
 used to exclaim. 
 
 The Duke had just got over the arduous task of conducting 
 the Honourable Mrs. Joggletilt through the intricacies of the 
 Lancers, and returned her to her place. His next dance 
 engagement was with Adela Comely, and he went up and 
 claimed her as soon as he could do so without impropriety. 
 
 " Shall we sit out, my dear Miss Comely ? My last partner 
 was a leetle " 
 
 " Exhausting," suggested Adela slyly, as she took the 
 Duke's proffered arm, and they walked slowly away towards a 
 convenient corner. 
 
 " A trifle so. Perhaps it was my own dancing that was 
 at fault." 
 
 " Oh, my dear Duke, how can you say so '? But I see you 
 are only fishing for compliments. If so, you are fishing in 
 shallow waters," she laughed. 
 
 "Shallow waters!" exclaimed the Duke in mock tragic 
 tones. " How can the word ' shallow' ever be associated with 
 the beauteous Miss Comely '? " 
 
 "Well, you don't mean to suggest that I am deep, I hope." 
 And although Adela smiled her lightest smile, there was just 
 a tinge of alarm about her voice as she spoke the words. 
 
 " My dear Miss Comely, you know Well, my dear boy, 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 127 
 
 what is it? " asked the Duke, suddenly coming to a full stop 
 in his flowery speech to the lady, as Lord Gravity appeared 
 round the corner without warning, and said — 
 
 " The Dance Music Committee, father, would like to 
 know ' ' 
 
 " My dear Gravity, pray represent me with the Dance Music, 
 or any other committee. Your judgment in all matters invari- 
 ably meets with my approval," answered the Duke, with a 
 courteous wave of the hand, and Lord Gravity had, perforce, 
 to retire. He knew that he had probably succeeded in putting 
 his father ' off his stroke ' for the time, and that sufficed him. 
 At all events, it was the best thing he could do, under the 
 circumstances. 
 
 It took the Duke some few minutes to rearrange his 
 thoughts and prepare another pretty speech, and whilst the 
 fair Adela was gently paving the way for the reception of 
 further compliments, a slight diversion arrested their attention. 
 
 A couple had just pulled up to rest, after gyrating several 
 times round the room. They were standing with their backs 
 turned to the Duke and Adela, but the latter quickly saw that 
 they were Konald Dennison and Penelope Binkie. The music 
 was just ending in a long drawn-out note, specially insisted on 
 by Herr Splitzen Lagerbier, and duly executed (not to say 
 murdered) by the Pea-Greens, when Pionald said — 
 
 " So sorry this dance is over. Miss Binkie. It seemed such 
 a short one. May I take you in to supper?" and the lady, 
 well pleased at the idea, was just turning to give a smiling 
 assent, when Monsieur le Baron Stepitoff suddenly appeared 
 upon the scene. 
 
 "Ah, my dear Mademoiselle Binkie, you will make me the 
 
128 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 pleasure to confer upon me the next ; the supper dance, is 
 it not ? " 
 
 " Afraid you're too late, Baron. Miss Binkie has promised 
 to go into supper with me," replied Ronald smilingly. 
 
 Now, Monsieur le Baron had not failed to notice Ronald's 
 marked attention to Penelope throughout the evening, and, as 
 a matter of fact, had overheard the conversation we have just 
 recorded, relative to the supper engagement, and thought it 
 high time to intervene. So, conveniently ignoring Ronald's 
 remark, he grimaced anew, and said — 
 
 " Mademoiselle will give me the dance? " 
 
 " I'm afraid I can't. I have promised to go into supper 
 with " 
 
 " Ah, but Monsieur will excuse you. Monsieur must excuse 
 you ! " and the little man excitedly offered his arm to the 
 embarrassed Penelope, who looked from one to another in 
 manifest alarm that there would be an explosion. 
 
 " Not quite so fast, Monsieur le Baron. Miss Binkie is the 
 person to decide." 
 
 " Sare, wish you to make me the insult ? You do not fright 
 me, sare, I can assure you ; I am not a frightful man," and 
 the Baron swelled out his chest and looked very fierce indeed. 
 
 " Well, that's a matter of opinion into which we need not 
 enter now," replied Ronald drily, alluding to the concluding 
 portion of Stepitoff's sentence, whilst Penelope was divided 
 equally between a desire to laugh and an inclination to cry. 
 What the trouble might have eventuated in it is impossible to 
 say, but just at this moment the ever tactful Duke interfered 
 by calling to the Baron to come and be introduced to Miss 
 Comely. This ended a somewhat strained situation, and five 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUXT. 
 
 129 
 
 minutes later the great majority of the guests were filing 
 into the supper-room. The Duke took his seat at the head 
 
 BINKIE AND SON. 
 
 of the top table, surrounded by a select party of his own 
 particular friends, and supplied, through the thoughtfulness 
 of his son, with his own particular brand of champagne. 
 
 H.H. K 
 
130 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Then, amid the clashing of plates, the rattling of knives 
 and forks, and the popping of champagne corks, the festive 
 banquet was fairly started. 
 
 Supper at the Haughtyshire Hunt Ball was always con- 
 ducted on somewhat old-fashioned lines. None of your 
 rushing in to gobble down the wing of a chicken and a stale 
 roll, half a glass of champagne, and off again to the dance- 
 room. Not a bit of it. Supper was a very solid, as well as a 
 somewhat formal function here, and the Duke was always 
 expected to propose that time-honoured toast, the ladies. 
 Upon the youngest bachelor present usually devolved the 
 task of replying, but on this particular occasion young Mr. 
 Calflove had so earnestly entreated the Duke to let him off, 
 that His Grace had done so, conditionally on his supplying 
 a sacrificial victim to take his place. Calflove had easily 
 persuaded Stepitoff to do this, and after a few graceful words 
 from the Duke in proposing the toast, a loud clattering of 
 glasses and rapping of knife-handles on the supper-table 
 heralded the rising of the Baron. 
 
 Smiling in a very self-satisfied manner on the company, 
 he began — 
 
 "Milor Duke, gentle ladies and mens: As a strrangere to 
 your shores I 'ave to bless you for ze honour you give me to 
 reply ze toast of ze ladies. Ze ladies of zese countries 
 are amongst ze most beautifullest of zare sex." ("When 
 zey are amongst French or Kussian womens," he added to 
 himself.) " Ze English ladies have ze best gomplexions, 
 ze finest 'air, ze longest feet — ah ! pardon ! — I should say 
 ze most bewitchin' manners of ze world ! I would zat I 
 could stay in zis noble land for nevermore ; but Jielas .' I 
 
M. Ic Baron is wrathful. 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 131 
 
 am recall to my own country, and shall be oblige to — to — vat 
 you call to " 
 
 " Stepitoff, eh ? " suggested Jack Dasliwood hi an audible 
 whisper. 
 
 " rctownez, ver' soonqueekly, but I shall alway remem- 
 
 bare ze honour that I have do to you, zis night, in return ze 
 zanksof ze ladies. I zank you all also for ze ver' pleasant way you 
 'ave receive me at zis so filling a supper, and champagnes which 
 must not be drinked too ver' much, or we shall fall from ze 
 bottom of ze stairs to ze top ! " and amid more plaudits and 
 considerable laughter, Monsieur le Baron, who had quite 
 recovered his equanimit}^, resumed his seat. 
 
 Travers had been enjoying himself greatly during the latter 
 
 part of the evening, with the elder daughter of Sir Toodle 
 
 Lumpkin. He was not very clear in his own mind as to who 
 
 had introduced him, but rather thought it was Eonald 
 
 Dennison. He took the young lady into supper and afterwards 
 
 obtained an introduction to her mamma and papa. Sir Toodle 
 
 was an amiable gentleman, who beamed upon the world at 
 
 large through gold-rimmed spectacles, and was always writing 
 
 books which nobody read. Lady Lumpkin was a massive and 
 
 somewhat commanding personage, but her three daughters — 
 
 all unappropriated blessings — did not take after her. They 
 
 were not good-looking, and the elder (Travers's friend) was 
 
 one of those naturally combative persons who always make 
 
 a point of differing, either playfully or in earnest, from 
 
 everything you say, a habit which usually reduces the average 
 
 man to silence in the first instance, and a lunatic asjdum 
 
 in the second. Binkie, however, found her charming — he 
 
 didn't know much of her, you see. 
 
 K 2 
 
132 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Now Mamma Lmiipkin, who was always on the look-out for 
 opportunities of what she called ' placing ' her daughters in 
 life, and what uncharitable people usually spoke of as ' man- 
 trapping,' had heard of the new people at The Chase, and 
 even the most superficial of enquiries sufficed to assure her of 
 the fact that Travers, as the only son of the ' Merchant 
 Prince,' must be tremendously rich, now or hereafter. So 
 she laid her plans for an introduction, which she had achieved 
 through Ronald Dennison — a ' detrimental, but a very nice 
 young man for all that,' as she had described him to her girls 
 in private. And having once got the introduction part of the 
 business through, she quickly prepared to follow it up by an 
 invitation to Catchem Court ; and to effect this, she com- 
 municated her intention to her excellent husband. Sir Toodle 
 was peremptorily instructed to ask Mr. Travers Binkie over to 
 dine and sleep on the following Friday. 
 
 Sir Toodle meekly trotted off in quest of our friend, whom 
 he discovered sitting out in a dark corner with his first-born, 
 the (more or less) beauteous Lucretia Lumpkin. The matter 
 was quickly arranged, subject to Travers obtaining his 
 mamma's consent. He went to ask it right away. 
 
 Mrs. Binkie, who had been rather dissatisfied with the 
 conduct of her children up to this time of the evening, was 
 charmed. A title ! ' Lady ' Lumpkin ! Certainly Travers 
 must go. She thought that she (Mrs. Binkie) ought to be 
 introduced at once, but not being quite sure on this point, 
 let matters slide for the moment. 
 
 "And I hope you'll bring your horse — there'll be plenty of 
 room in the stable," said Sir Toodle. " I— I believe the— er— 
 the turnips and cabbages and things at Catchem are very 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 ^33 
 
 good," added he vaguely, with a hazy idea that horses Hved on 
 those humble vegetables. He kept a pair of ' light of other 
 days ' sort of animals to run in Lady Lumpkin's carriage, but 
 hadn't the remotest idea what they were fed on. Sir Toodle's 
 
 SIR TOODLE LUMPKIN. 
 
 literary tastes were too strong for his common sense, under 
 every circumstance of life. It was ultimately arranged that 
 Travers should send a horse over, and himself drive to 
 Catchem Court on the following Friday afternoon so as to 
 meet the Duke's hounds on the Saturday morning at Colter's 
 Barn, when the ladies would go over to the meet and see 
 them throw off. 
 
134 ^^^ HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 " And mind 3'ou come early in the afternoon, or ^Ye shan't 
 see anything of you ! " exclaimed Miss Lmnpkin to our 
 friend in her most fascinating manner, as Binkie saw them 
 into their carriage. "We shall be most disappointed if you 
 don't arrive by four o'clock." 
 
 "Oh, really ! " squeaked Binkie, enraptured. He then shut 
 his fingers into the carriage-door, choked back a naughty word 
 as he disengaged them again, and returned to the ball-room, 
 walking very stiffly from the hips, and with a knowing look 
 in his half-closed eye, which was especially accentuated 
 whenever he caught sight of any of his acquaintances. 
 
 Soon after the departure of Sir Toodle and his family, the 
 long-suffering Pea-Green wind-jammers gave evident signs of 
 having had enough of it. Herr Splitzen Lagerbier was 
 ' slinging the timber ' as vigorously as ever, but his time was 
 more than vague ; and we fear that the general performance 
 of the orchestra would not have given satisfaction to His 
 Highness the Elector, could its strains have reached him in 
 far-off Sorsedge-Mete : indeed, from sheer physical exhaustion, 
 they were fast degenerating to the level of those itinerant 
 musicians from the Fatherland, whose efforts in our streets 
 are so eminently calculated for the production of internal 
 suffering in the human race. The Duke was whispering 
 something sweet and soft into the fair Adela's ear, by way 
 of farewell, when Lord Gravity took his father by the arm 
 and gently, but firmly, conducted him down the steps to the 
 waiting carriage, and the departure of the Ducal party was 
 the signal for a general break up. The Duke's last words to 
 Adela were — 
 
 " To-morrow, then, at the meet, I shall see you? " 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 
 
 135 
 
 And Adela said softly, " Yes." 
 Eonald Dennison's last words to Penelope were- 
 " To-morrow, then, I shall see you ? " 
 Penelope said shyly, "Yes." 
 
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 LUTY LUMPKIN. 
 
 Whilst Sir Tommy's last words to Jack, before they got into 
 
 their fur-lined coats, were — 
 
 " Come and have just a splash of whisky and soda." 
 
 And Jack replied, " ^Vhat do yoii think?" And they 
 
 adjourned hurriedly to the refreshment room together. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 A RED-LETTER DAY WITH THE DUKe's. 
 
 The day following the Hunt Ball, the meet of the Duke's 
 hounds, in mercy to the overnight revellers, was fixed for 
 half -past eleven, instead of eleven, the usual hour. Punctual 
 to the moment, the Duke, looking as fresh as a four-year-old, 
 a bunch of Neapolitan violets in his coat, and his hat set on 
 with an extra jaunty air, cantered up to the tryst. He looked 
 as if he had gone soberly to bed at ten o'clock, instead of 
 having danced till three in the morning. Eonald Dennison 
 was there on Marmion. The horse looked fit and well, and 
 seemed considerably more at his ease in the big ring snaffle 
 his new owner had put on him, than he had ever done under 
 either the Crocker or Binkie regime, with a deep ported curb. 
 Adela was not looking quite at her loveliest ; the overnight 
 fatigue had taken a good deal out of her, and her cheeks 
 lacked their usual soft colour. But she was beautiful under 
 any circumstances, and the Duke but awaited the departure 
 of Gravity in the mail phaeton — which happy event would 
 take place as soon as hounds moved off — to join his inamorata. 
 Just as His Grace pulled out his watch for the twentieth 
 time, preliminary to giving the word, our friends, Binkie 
 on the new brown, Sir Tommy on his hireling, and Jack 
 Dashwood riding the cobby little black horse, cast up. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 137 
 
 and a move was made for Piper's Wood, a small covert about 
 half-a-mile away. 
 
 " I hope you'll have a good time on that horse," squeaked 
 Travers, as Konald Dennison caught him up. 
 
 Eonald had been enjoying a most delightful tcte-a-tete 
 with Penelope and had only just left her. The lady had 
 hacked over, accompanied by a servant. She was not allowed 
 to hunt, but ever since she had known Dennison, curiously 
 enough, she had never missed riding or driving out to every 
 meet of the hounds. 
 
 " Yes. If I can hold him, I expect I shall," was the 
 reply. 
 
 "I wouldn't ride the swine for a tenner !" exclaimed Sir 
 Tommy, looking revengefully at the handsome chestnut as he 
 danced along, stepping on air. 
 
 "No; because you'd fall off ! " giggled the high falsetto; 
 and Tommy rode on hurriedly, not at all pleased to hear 
 Jack's laughter mingling with Binkie's as he went. 
 
 The Eev. Geoffry Yarboro reined up beside Travers as 
 hounds were thrown into covert. 
 
 " You wished to be presented to the Duke, Mr. Binkie. 
 If you'll come with me now, I'll introduce you." 
 
 " Oh, really ! Oh, yes ! It'll be so jolly to know a Duke, 
 won't it ? I know a Baronet — Tommy, you know ; but he's 
 an ass, just like me and you, you know, or any other fellow ; 
 
 but a Duke's different, ain't it? And then " But by this 
 
 time they had moved up into the vicinity of the noble 
 M. F. H., and Mr. Yarboro said — 
 
 " Uncle, this is Mr. Binkie." 
 
 His Grace of Haughtyshire fixed the glass in his eye, but it 
 
138 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 evidently did not aid his sight sufficiently to enable him to see 
 Mr. Binkie's fat red paw held out to clasp his own. 
 
 " Glad to make your acquaintance, Mr. Pinkie — oh, Binkie, 
 pardon me — very pleased to see you out with the hounds. 
 All my neighbours are equally welcome — in the hunting-field. 
 And now we mustn't talk, for fear of spoiling sport." And 
 even one so obtuse as our fat friend could hardly have mis- 
 taken the hint given that the brief interview was at an end. 
 
 The Duke, who had noticed Penelope's beauty at the meets, 
 and had really been almost shaken in his allegiance to Adela at 
 sight of it, could hardly believe that she was the sister of such 
 a very commonplace young man. He turned to his nephew 
 and said, as Stepitoff had done on the previous evening of 
 Penelope : "A freak of Nature, Geoffry ; a freak of Nature ! " 
 and having just caught sight of Gravity driving away past 
 the cross-roads — he was going to inspect the barn roof and 
 kitchen chimney of a complaining tenant — the Duke pressed 
 his horse up alongside that of Miss Comely, and spoke with 
 her in inaudible and apparently amorous whispers. 
 
 ' Hoic, hoic ! ' the crack of a whip — then a distant rate, 
 a couple of minutes interval, and a fainfc whimper comes 
 down on the breeze. This is quickly taken up by several 
 hounds, and gradually swells into that great, glorious burst of 
 music which no chorus of sweet singers has ever equalled yet 
 for thrilling a human heart to its core. Diana ! what sins 
 have you to answer for ! The blast of the horn, the glad 
 chorus from fifty throats, bring us all irresistibly into your 
 train, and will do so whilst Englishmen are worth their salt ! 
 You seldom fail, in your cruelty, to kill or maim your votaries, 
 but it's worth the risk. Yes, it's worth the risk ! 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 139 
 
 Par parentliese, we may here say that a friend of ours — he 
 is a long-suffering man, and phiys the cornet, and on such 
 occasions it is not only he that is long-suffering — was trying to 
 persuade us that hounds' cries were not really musical ; but 
 
 THE SERIOUS MUSICIAN. 
 
 with the greatest humilitv we must be allowed to differ. We 
 fancy ourselves a trifle on the subject of music — we are rather 
 an authority on it, in fact. We once played tunes on a post- 
 horn with such effect that the death-rate rose in that neigh- 
 bourhood by leaps and bounds, and the proprietor of the 
 
140 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 instrument finally booted us out of the place, and broke the 
 post-horn m his despair. So, you see, we are speaking from 
 the vantage point of the serious musician, when we say delibe- 
 rately, and with the fear of Handel, Albert Chevalier, Mozart 
 and the composer of ' A monkey on a stick ' before our eyes, 
 that hounds' melody is the finest of all music, and we hope our 
 readers will chime in and exclaim, " And so say all of us ! " 
 * But to return, as the prudent soldier observed on first 
 sighting the enemy. The chorus was taken up with a ven- 
 geance, and the beauties rattled their fox round the covert 
 so hotly, that nolens volens, he had to break. This he did in 
 the orthodox way, at the down-wind corner, and within a few 
 yards of where Ben, the second Whip, sat motionless as a 
 statue on his clever-looking old horse. Ben is eager, young in 
 years, though much too old in experience to risk anything by 
 holloaing one moment before the right time. But as soon as 
 that lithe, red-brown form is well away from the friendly 
 shelter of the covert, Ben's view holloa is let go like a pent-up 
 torrent, and before more than half-a-dozen men can come clat- 
 tering down the nearest ride, hounds are fairly on the line. 
 
 "Hold hard, gentlemen, hold hard, please ! " cries Will, his 
 red old face glowing with suppressed excitement. 
 
 " Will you have the great goodness not to make quite 
 such an ass of yourself? " came in the Duke's honeyed tones. 
 " Thank you, I'm sure you'll pardon me, but your holloaing 
 is really so confusing to hounds," and the abashed little hatter 
 from Mudbury shuts his widely-opened mouth with a snap. 
 
 Another outburst of melody and they are away, and hunting 
 him smartly over a small piece of seeds on to the ploughed 
 land beyond. A hand-gate lets all the field through into this, 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 141 
 
 and then, rather slowly, hounds take the Hne on, over a small 
 grip, to some old pastm-e-land where scent quickly improves, 
 and from a trot, or gentle canter, horses now hreak into a hand 
 gallop. Will is first at the post and rails which separates this 
 meadow from the next. He jumps it, only a length ahead of 
 the Duke, who is followed over by Ronald Dennison, a little to 
 the right. 
 
 Marmion, without actually showing temper, is hinting 
 that a somewhat stronger pace would be more to his liking. 
 He chucks his head about, but not nearly so badly as 
 he did in a curb bridle, and his rider's hands are as light 
 as any woman's, although his strength in the saddle is 
 remarkable. The horse jumps, or rather bucks over, the next 
 fence, a thorny hedge, rather awkwardly, landing with that 
 horrible stiff-legged action, which we all knov/ so well and hate 
 so cordially. Eonald pats his shining neck, and declines to 
 take the slightest notice of his ill-humour. ' It takes two to 
 make a quarrel,' and Marmion, after a short time, finding 
 that it is no good ' whipping a top that won't spin,' gives 
 up the attempt. Hounds are travelling a bit faster now, 
 and the horse has one eye on their doings, whilst the other 
 is fixed upon the rail and newly cut out ditch beyond, which 
 they are just approaching. Eonald, after seeing hounds 
 well out of the way of this obstacle, somewhat releases 
 the pressure on the chestnut's mouth, and gets him to 
 stride along comfortably. Then, without any fuss, he takes 
 him confidentially by the head, and sends him at it in earnest. 
 It is a biggish place, but Marmion romps at it ; one powerful 
 hoist of his great hind-quarters and he is over, clearing the 
 ditch on the far side with plenty to spare. The better 
 
142 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 mounted and bolder spirits follow tlieir leader over, but many 
 of the field prefer galloping off some distance to the left, where 
 a gate stands invitingly open. Adela would have loved to try 
 the rails, but prudential considerations in the shape of possible 
 casualties to that pretty face which was veritably her fortune, 
 counselled her to give the preference to the gate. She was 
 followed by Mrs. Joggletilt, Lady Lucy, and a whole crowd of 
 men and women. Sir Tommy almost cannoned the Duke as 
 they took off side by side at the obstacle, but no harm resulted, 
 though the noble Master took good care to give him a wide 
 berth for the rest of the run. Ben and Tom Tribe had done 
 their duty in bringing up the tail hounds and stragglers, and 
 were just now settling down to the enjoyment of the gallop on 
 their own account. The Keverend had taken a line on the left 
 and was vastly amusing himself amongst the neatly-trimmed 
 fences which merely served to enhance the excitement of getting 
 across country. 
 
 " Forrard ! forrard ! " screamed Will, as he ranged up along- 
 side the pack. For once in a way, Keynard had set himself to 
 travel in the right direction, and had got his head for Mount- 
 ford Earths, a point some seven miles, as the crow flies, from 
 where he was found, and over the very cream of the Duke's 
 country. The pace grew stronger and stronger as they crossed 
 the turnpike road, jumping a bank, with a low brush fence on 
 top, into it, and some rails out again, on the far side. Here 
 they caught a glimpse of some of the ' wheel ' contingent, who 
 had driven hither as hard as they could, on the off-chance that 
 this would be the fox's line. Eonald still held pride of place, 
 his horse going along well within himself, at the sterns, but 
 rather to the right of the now flying pack. 
 

 ^ 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 143 
 
 Will, Mr. Yarboro, the two Whips, and the Duke were 
 nearest to hounds of the rest. They had been running now 
 for five-and-twenty minutes without the semblance of a check. 
 Less than fifty yards behind the leaders came about half-a- 
 dozen more, ^headed by Sir Tommy — amongst them Adela 
 and Lady Lucy. Mrs. Joggletilt's horse had held out 
 signals of distress as they crossed a holding piece of plough ; 
 Commander Clump was down, whilst several others, finding 
 the pace a bit too hot for them, had pulled up in despair, 
 or taken to the lanes and roads, hoping against hope for a 
 favourable ' nick.' 
 
 " This is glorious,"' exclaimed the Duke to his nephew ; " it 
 makes one young again ! " 
 
 " Oh, you are alwaj^s young. Uncle ! " answered the Parson, 
 laughing. "But we certainly have had a grand gallop, even 
 if it ended here." 
 
 " Dennison's horse seems to be carrying him well to-day. 
 A new one, I understand? " 
 
 "Yes. One of Eonny's cheap purchases. He always 
 manages to fight them along, though, somehow." 
 
 " Ah, yes. A wonderful man on a horse, I think him. 
 Will you have this place first, GeoftVy, or shall I? " cried the 
 Duke, as they went down to a biggish, hairy-looking fence, 
 with apparently only one jumpable place in it for a hundred 
 j^ards on either side. 
 
 " You go on ! " was the answer. And the Duke, taking his 
 horse firmly by the head, drove him at the place. He got 
 over safely, though with not much to spare, whilst the 
 Reverend's horse dropped a hind leg in the grip beyond, as he 
 landed. The pace, for the last two miles, had been severe, and 
 
144 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 over a stiff country, so it was hardly to be wondered at that 
 horses were beginning to chance their fences a h'ttle now. 
 " Forrard ! forrard ! forrard ! " still screamed the Huntsman, 
 although hounds were going a cracker, and must have been 
 pressing their fox hard for some time past. The faster they 
 went, the better Marmion seemed to like it, and finding him- 
 self with an undisputed lead, the horse was amiability itself ; 
 a child could have ridden him at this juncture, and Eonald 
 hugged himself, metaphorically speaking, upon his good luck. 
 One doesn't succeed, every day of one's life, in effecting such 
 an exchange as a ' pony ' for a horse ! 
 
 The cheap hunter is a very uncertain quantity. Those 
 whose purse-strings are long, have not, happily for them- 
 selves, to bother about it, or take the chances, risks and 
 annoyance of the doubtful conveyance. But, nevertheless, 
 there is a lot of fun in store for the poor man — a bit too much 
 fun, occasionally ! — in getting hold of cheap ones. The 
 writer having been born minus that fortune which does, all 
 philosophers to the contrary notwithstanding, smooth the way 
 of life and extract many of the thorns from this weary path 
 of ours, has had, throughout a virtuous though chequered 
 career, to choose between cheap hunters and no hunters at all ; 
 and he still thinks that he has contrived to see as much of 
 the sport as a good many more fortunate men. 
 
 The chase now leads across some meadows, wherein are 
 several clean, good fences. After travelling smartly over this 
 delectable ground for some few minutes, hounds suddenly 
 throw up their heads, and the proceedings come to a full stop. 
 Some sheep have foiled the scent, and the check is by no 
 means an unwelcome one. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 145 
 
 But to-day Will means to kill his fox, if he can. He jags 
 and shakes up his sweat-covered, foam-flecked horse into a 
 canter again — how is it that Huntsmen's horses, however 
 ' done,' can always raise a gallop or struggle over a fence, at 
 a pinch ? — and gets his hounds together in a moment. Ben 
 and Tom are quickly at hand to give him assistance, and he 
 makes a forward cast. 
 
 This pause in the proceedings enables Mr. Sanders to 
 arrive on the scene with the Duke's second horse, and five 
 minutes later, the Huntsman also receives his ' relief ' animal. 
 Sir Tommy then heaves in sight, followed at a considerable 
 interval by Adela Comely and five or six men. The hatter is 
 in a ditch, about a mile back, with Nobbs, the horse-breaker, 
 on top of him. A few of the road contingent are rapidly 
 approaching up a lane to the left, and the rest — where are 
 they? and echo, adopting its customary, though somewhat 
 inane course, answers ' where ?' 
 
 Whilst horses are blowing and heaving, their legs stretched 
 straight out, their tails quivering, and the sweat pouring off 
 their mud-stained limbs and smoking bodies, we will return to 
 Mr. Travers Binkie and Mr. Jack Dashwood. 
 
 Adopting his usual plan, Mr. Binkie had kept well in the 
 background, and showed none of that nasty, selfish, forward 
 conduct, that you, reader, are always guilty of, in trying to get 
 a good start w'hen hounds find. Travers's style of getting 
 across country at least ensured him against the risk of being 
 jumped on by anyone behind — simply because he occupied 
 the position of absolute last in inoprm x>ersond. Turning his 
 toes well out, so as to catch tighter hold of the horse with his 
 calves — which were so obviously too fat for the purpose — he 
 
 H.H. L 
 
146 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 galloped valiantly along, at a respectful distance behind the 
 last of the stragglers. 
 
 Jack had, meanwhile, gone swinging across the meadow on 
 the cobby little horse bought from Fobbs, until coming to the 
 first obstacle, the post and rails. These he charged, in full 
 expectation that the horse would jump them all right, but 
 whatever Jack may have meant, his horse did not happen to 
 think the same way, and a short, sharp tussle ensued, until 
 the black, pursuing his usual tactics, turned his back to the 
 fence and deliberately commenced to kick at it. 
 
 "Oh, d — n it, this'U never do! I shall lose hounds 
 altogether, if I waste any more time here ! " and he rammed 
 his spurs in — thereby producing another violent hoist of the 
 hind-quarters — and galloped off, up to the gate, through which 
 the main body of the field were now filing. Here he 
 encountered Binkie, and they passed into the next field 
 together. 
 
 "You didn't get over those rails, then? " squeaked Binkie, 
 with a spice of ill-nature. 
 
 " You didn't even try," retorted Jack savagely, and away he 
 went, elbows and legs, across the next field, glared at of all, as 
 he hustled past them to catch up to hounds. Availing him- 
 self of Eonald Dennison's lead, he rammed the little black 
 horse at the weakest part he could see in a thorn fence, only 
 to be met with still another refusal. Jack instantly turned his 
 head, and shoved him at it again, before the rest of the field, 
 with their : ' Now, sir, my turn, I think ; ' ' Oh, please pull out 
 of theway ! ' 'Do let someone else have a chance! ' etc., etc., etc., 
 could come up. Again the brute galloped up to it, and again 
 did he refuse and swerve sharply out to the left. Then, Mrs. 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUXT. 147 
 
 Joggletilt arriving, Jack had perforce to pull out of the v^'ny, 
 and let her, Adela, and practically the whole of the main 
 body of the field, get over, before the road was cleared for him 
 again. Just as he was gathering the thong of his crop into 
 his right hand, preparatory to giving the black ' what for ' 
 if he again refused, Travers Algernon, on his (late Mr. Fobbs's) 
 alleged seven-year-old, came blobbing along. 
 
 Squeaking to Jack to " get out of the way," and with his 
 shoulders hunched up into his ears, he took his horse — or we 
 should say his horse took him — up to the fence, and got over, 
 without }nore than a foot of space showing between the rider 
 and his saddle. Turning round, he grinned inanely over his 
 shoulder, and called out to his friend — 
 
 " Oh, come on ! it's nothing of a jump. You needn't be 
 afraid," and then rode on after the fast retreating field, 
 leaving Mr. Dashwood speechless with rage. 
 
 To be planted with a determined refuser when hounds are 
 running is bad enough, in all conscience, but to have it 
 suggested by a sportsman of Mr. Binkie's calibre that it is 
 you, and not the horse, that is ' afraid,' is certainly calculated 
 to try one's powers of restraint pretty highly. What Jack 
 said for the ensuing ten minutes it is not for us to chronicle. 
 We will merely mention that his language was so strong that 
 you could have leaned up against it, and we think that the 
 Recording Angel must have been really ' sat down on and 
 ridden ' to keep his place. 
 
 " Gr-r-r-r along, you brute ! " cried Jack, as he drove the 
 black resolutely, with hand, heels, and finally a healthy 
 whack from his cane crop behind his saddle, at the very mild 
 place he wanted him to jump. Another determined refusal 
 
 L 2 
 
148 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 — more spurs — and finally, by way of closing the proceedings, 
 a dangerous rear, which warned Jack that any further coercion 
 might be attended with evil results. The brute went up so 
 straight on end that it became a mere chance as to whether 
 he would come down on his back or not ; and Jack, like the 
 good horseman he had proved himself to be, was not fool 
 enough to court such a risk for the sake of a temporary 
 triumph. So, once more, he turned away from the fence, 
 and galloped all round the field, seeking an outlet, but with 
 the exception of the way he came in there was none, and in a 
 most disgusted mood he drew one of Binkie Senior's one-and- 
 threepenny's from his cigar-case, lighted it, and started on 
 the return journey to The Chase. 
 
 ' Revenons a nos moutons ' — literally, as well as figuratively 
 — the sheep scurried away as hounds came up, but scent had 
 been so foiled that Will's first cast was an unsuccessful one. 
 Not a hound spoke to the line, and though the check was 
 welcome, in a sense, the pleasure of getting a ' blow ' was 
 largely discounted through the fear that they had said farewell 
 to their fox. However, after a delay of several minutes, Will 
 managed, in what Mr. Jorrocks would have called an ' all 
 round my 'at ' cast, to hit it off again, and once more they 
 were moving. 
 
 Very slowly, though. Scent had got cold, and the wind, 
 then blowing in great gusts, had not improved matters. Still, 
 hounds kept steadily on, puzzling out the line in the most 
 persevering manner. They hunted him down to the brook, 
 flowing sluggishly along at the foot of a big grass hill, which led 
 on to the open Downs. This brook the field had to jump, but 
 it was not very formidable, and all of those still with hounds, 
 
The Climb on to the Downs, 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 149 
 
 except two who refused, got safely over. Scent then improved, 
 and the pace quickened up correspondingly. The line now 
 led up the side of the steep Down, and although a few groans 
 were uttered when this was seen to be the case, there was no 
 help for it, and ' grinning and hugging ' they all commenced 
 the clamber. 
 
 And with tired horses — for with the exception of the 
 Duke and the Huntsman, not one of those up at the check 
 had been able to secure a second horse — it was a terrible 
 climb indeed. Slipping one step back for every two forward, 
 they painfully laboured up the incline. Hounds were already 
 out of sight, and Will was now on the brow of the hill and 
 commencing to gallop again. A few gave up, but found 
 it harder work to get down the hill than it had been to 
 ascend it. The rest persevered doggedly on, and at length 
 reached the table-land on the summit. Three miles of sound 
 galloping ground then lay stretched out before them, a fitting 
 reward for the long, wearisome climb. Hounds could just be 
 seen racing along in the distance, with Will's scarlet coat 
 bobbing up and down, close in their wake ; whilst another, 
 that of Eonald Dennison, was visible a little to the right of 
 the pack. In the middle distance were the two Whips and 
 another man ; then came the Duke and Adela, now ridnig 
 together ; after them, the main body, reduced to less than 
 half-a-dozen by this time. 
 
 For a quarter of an hour longer, hounds ran hard. One by 
 one of the field dropped out of the pursuit, horses or riders, 
 and in some cases both, being done to a turn. Tails were 
 shaking all round, ' bellows to mend ' with some, leg-weariness 
 with all. 
 
150 
 
 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 It was a run ! Men talked of it for many a day afterwards 
 as one of the best things they had ever known in the Haughty- 
 shire country. And now the quarry began to descend the 
 side of the Down again. What a stout fox he had proved 
 himself ! But even vulpine nature has its limits, and Will 
 hoped and believed that his fox must be sinking at last. 
 Horses undoubtedly were, and hounds were certainly stringing 
 a bit. The whole cavalcade kept on top of the ridge, 
 hoping Eeynard would change his mind and come up again ; 
 all, that is, except Will, who, glorying in his fresh horse, 
 slipped and slithered down the steep slope after the pack. 
 Pushing his way through the scattered furze bushes which 
 grew on the hillside, he cheered the tired hounds on, with 
 his " Forrard ! forrard! " the sound of his voice now coming 
 but faintly up to the devoted few still riding along on the 
 ridge of the high Down, their toylike forms boldly silhouetted 
 against the sky-line from Will's point of view below. 
 
 At last, however, it becomes apparent, first, that the fox 
 has more in him than his pursuers thought — indeed. Will has 
 a horrible suspicion that they may have changed foxes some- 
 where since leaving the hilltop ; he is certain they were on 
 the beaten one until they got down into the bottoms — and 
 secondly, that the quarry has no present intention of leaving 
 the low ground to rise the hill again. 
 
 Eonald has already put Marmion's head towards the vale. 
 The Duke and Adela are hesitating, uncertain whether to 
 follow him, or give up, for although His Grace has a 
 comparatively fresh horse, Miss Comely's bay can hardly 
 gallop a yard farther, and the Duke is much too gallant a 
 gentleman to leave her side at this stage ; the Whips are 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 151 
 
 already half-way do^Yn the slope, whilst of the ' tail ' of the 
 field there is absolutely nothing in sight. The Reverend 
 Geoffry had persevered as long as any of the rest, but at last 
 his good weight-carrier had hit his leg hard, and gone lame. 
 His defeat acted as a kind of signal to the others to resign the 
 chase, and they all began slowly retracing their steps, not one 
 member of the little party being less than fifteen miles from 
 his stable door. 
 
 And thus it was that besides the Huntsman and Whips, 
 Eonald Dennison found that he alone composed ' the field.' 
 The pace was still fairly brisk, but nothing like what it had 
 been earlier in the gallop. They were now in the vale again, 
 and the obstacles began to get much too frequent for the taste 
 of tired horses. Eare ' sticker ' as he was, the gallant Marmion 
 began chancing his fences in a way, calculated from his rider's 
 point of view, to make ' each individual hair stand up on end, 
 like quills upon the fretful,' etc., etc. 
 
 At length a low stile proved one too many for the good 
 horse ; he tried to run through it, with the inevitable result. 
 Ronald, luckily, fell clear of him, and the horse rose to his 
 feet unhurt, but wild-eyed and staring. Dennison patted 
 his neck reassuringly — Ronald and his queer assortment 
 of horses always got curiously fond of one another — and said 
 to himself — 
 
 "'Outed,' this time, and no mistake! Well, we've had a 
 rare good run, and it would be cruelty to ask the poor beggar 
 to go any farther — they must kill directly. By Jove, I'll just 
 hitch his reins to this bit of timber and try a trot over the 
 next field on my own flat feet — hullo ! Tom's down ! " and he 
 started oft" running, as hard as his stiffened limbs would 
 
152 THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 
 
 l^ermit, with the twofold object of offering a hand, if 
 wanted, to Tom Tribe, and of trying to see something of the 
 finish of the rmi himself. 
 
 The Whip, however, was ' right-side-iip ' by the time that 
 Eonald, panting somewhat from the unaccustomed pedestrian 
 exercise, got to him. Tom clambered again into his mud- 
 stained saddle, but the horse was so done, that he absolutely 
 refused to go out of a shambling trot. Eonald actually 
 travelled faster on foot. 
 
 Two fields more, and then with a wild ' Whoo — hoop ! ' 
 Will is off his horse, and busy amongst the pack. Hounds 
 are rolling over each other, snapping and snarling at that 
 poor little bedraggled bit of reddish fur in the middle of 
 them, which is all that now remains of one of the gamest 
 foxes that ever stood for nearly three hours before so good 
 a pack. Eonald is overjoyed that he is just in time to see 
 them break him up. Will had got his brush, which he 
 presented to Eonald. Eonald had a little gold token in his 
 pocket, which he presented to Will. 
 
 " One of the best, sir," exclaimed Will enthusiastically. 
 The remark might have applied either to the fox or the coin. 
 We think he meant the former. 
 
 Every one of the four human faces there glowed with 
 delight. It was a red-letter day, indeed. Being over twenty 
 miles from the Kennels was certainly ' against it,' and the 
 pleasure of that ride would hardly be enhanced by the steady, 
 drizzling rain now beginning to fall ; but these are common 
 incidents in the glorious chase of the fox, and the quartett 
 with w'hom we are now dealing were pretty well accustomed 
 to such luxuries. Wherefore, with coat-collars turned up. 
 
WILL. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 155 
 
 and caps tilted over their noses, they set about commencing 
 the homeward jom'ney without any unnecessary delay. 
 
 " I'd never have forgiven myself if we hadn't killed him," 
 said Will, bringing his fist down on his thigh with a bang. 
 " I shouldn't have got a wink 0' sleep all night ! " 
 
 Ronald walked slowly back and recovered possession of 
 Marmion, only to find that his saddle looked like a large 
 puddle on the horse's back. He wiped the worst of the wet 
 off with his handkerchief, and climbed up. It was not a 
 pleasant seat, under the circumstances, but it was the only 
 one available for that dreary ride home. Dennison was 
 afterwards heard to declare that it was the longest twenty 
 miles he had ever ridden — as to there being but 1,760 yards 
 to each of those miles, he said that he utterly declined to 
 believe anything of the sort. Certain it is that he indulged 
 in several brief naps on the journey back ; that dinner 
 possessed but a feeble interest for him ; and that on getting 
 into a warm bath he incontinently went off to sleep and very 
 nearly got drowned for his pains ; and when, early in the 
 evening, he went to bed, he slumbered as soon as his head 
 touched the pillow, leaving the candle to gutter out, at its own 
 sweet will, in the small hours of the morning. 
 
CHAPTER XI, 
 
 AFTER THE RUN. 
 
 That grand run was eventful in more ways than one. 
 About half-way through it, our friend Travers, finding himself 
 left in sole possession of the ploughed field he was then gently 
 blobbing over (under the full impression that his horse was 
 galloping his hardest) thought the time had arrived when he 
 could venture to pull up, and get out of any more of the day's 
 business with safety to himself, and a certain amount of glory 
 to his reputation. The new purchase from Cutaway Mount 
 had certainly proved himself a very safe conveyance, and, as 
 Binkie had asked him to do no more than canter along and 
 scramble over gaps, with here and there a small place which 
 had to be jumped, his rider had contrived to go through the 
 day pretty comfortably. Having then definitely given up the 
 chase, he managed to find a path which led him on to the 
 main turnpike, and an opportune sign-post at the cross-roads 
 a little farther on told him that by following his nose for a 
 little over eight miles he would arrive safely at the paternal 
 mansion. 
 
 Before he had got half-way through the journey he was 
 overtaken by Sir Tommy. That gentleman's hat looked like 
 a concertina, the back and one arm of his coat were plastered 
 with reddish clay, whilst his once white breeches were now 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 157 
 
 piebald. Scratches freel}' adorned his physiognomy, and his 
 nose looked about twice its natural size. 
 
 " Yes," said he, in answer to Binkie's lifted eyebrows and 
 vacuous smile : " Come a buster again. Just my luck, ain't it ? 
 And yet you hear people say you're always so dull in the 
 country. Dull ! What do you think ? The early post brought 
 me four unpaid bills, a judgment summons, and a notice in 
 bankruptcy. I get snubbed by that girl I'm so ' gone ' on 
 — Miss Comely, you know — at the meet, and then when we 
 are in for the fastest thing of the season, this silly brute of 
 a horse goes and tumbles, bustle over hairpins, at a thorn 
 fence. Dull, indeed ! Dull be d — d ! " wound up Tommy 
 with considerable w^armth. 
 
 " Oh, really ! Well, I didn't fall off, you know." 
 
 " Who the said anything about falling oft", you silly 
 
 cuckoo ! " burst out Tommy so furiously that Travers posi- 
 tively shook in his top-boots, and wished devoutly that he 
 hadn't spoken. " Can't you understand the difference between 
 falling off and your horse falling with you, you blithering 
 idiot?" 
 
 " Oh, real " began Binkie. 
 
 " Oh, shut your head," retorted Tommy savagely, jobbing 
 his horse unconsciously with the spur, and moving about half 
 a length ahead of his companion. It was not often that the 
 Baronet lost his temper with Binkie, exasperating as some of 
 the latter's sayings were. Such luxuries as a ' let-out ' at his 
 host could only be safely indulged in when Tommy was not in 
 want of a fiver, and such occasions were indeed rare with him, 
 as we know. 
 
 As they rode in silence up the carriage-drive of The 
 
158 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Chase, they fell in with Jack Dashwood, who had returned on 
 the worthless brute he had ridden, reassumed his tweed suit, 
 and was now, full of fury and Bass's ale, puffing savagely at one 
 of Travers's cigars, and doing ' sentry-go ' up and down the 
 path outside the hall door. He would ' make that devil of a 
 horse go over a fence, or know the reason why.' He would 
 ' cut him into ribbons,' but what he'd make him go. He'd 
 
 kill the brute. He'd — he'd — he'd "Hullo! you chaps 
 
 are back pretty early," and he broke off his reflections upon 
 the iniquities of the cobby little black horse, as his two 
 friends ranged up alongside him. And then each explained 
 to the others how this was and how that was, and finally the 
 trio adjourned to Travers's own little room, and drowned 
 their annoyance with each other and the world at large in 
 what Ouida calls ' frothing, foaming, amber liquid,' but 
 which in our prosaic way we generally speak of as a whisky 
 and soda. 
 
 Even such gay and enthusiastic worshippers at Cupid's 
 shrine as the Duke of Haughtyshire require a certain amount 
 of suitable environment in order to carry on their love-making, 
 and it must be confessed that the bleak hilltop on which we 
 left His Grace, with darkness falling rapidly over the land, and 
 a cold, driving rain, to say nothing of the now freshening wind, 
 hardly supplied a fitting frame for the picture so constantly in 
 the Ducal mind of the respective loves of Venus and Adonis, 
 Chloe and Strephon, in which he himself naturally always 
 played the male title I'ole. 
 
 " I don't know — I really can't think, where we are," 
 exclaimed Adela, somewhat in dismay, as she gazed helplessly 
 round on the bare, undulating down-land. She was conscious 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 159 
 
 that the ram was rapidly takmg all the curl out of her hah", 
 dampmg her cravat, and, m short, that she was b}^ no means 
 lookmg at her best. The Duke, too, did not seem so pleased 
 at being left alone with her in this desolate spot as she would 
 have liked to see. Altogether, her chance of reigning at the 
 Castle went back considerably in the betting just at this period. 
 
 Although miserable and shivering, the Duke was as urbane 
 and courteous as ever. Had he been ordered out for execu- 
 tion, his antecedent politeness to the hangman would have 
 been of the most natural and easy description, 
 
 "In broad daylight we should have been able to see the top of 
 the Castle from this point ; but I am a little uncertain which 
 way we ought to go now so as to strike the main road," he 
 said, as he turned up his coat-collar, and drew off the leather 
 gloves he had worn all day, replacing them with the white 
 worsteds which had been carefully tucked into his saddle- 
 girths by Gravity. " I wish I could get you some refresh- 
 ment, my dear Miss Comel}' ; perhaps we can obtain a cup 
 of tea for you at an Inn, before we have got very far upon 
 the road home." 
 
 Miss Comely, with the sweetest smile she could muster 
 under the circumstances, which, it must be confessed, were 
 somewhat depressing, said she didn't care for any tea (feeling 
 all the time that she would cheerfully exchange her most 
 precious possession for a cup), but that it was very good of 
 the Duke to think of it, all the same, etc., etc. And then they 
 turned their horses' heads to the blast, and began to descend 
 the greasy chalk-path, slipping and sliding, on their weary 
 ride home. 
 
 That night, the unusual sound of a bell, about nine o'clock, 
 
i6o THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 somewhat startled the inmates of The Chase. When a 
 footman appeared in the drawing-room and informed all and 
 sundry that no less a person than THE DUKE and Miss 
 Comely had arrived at the door, Mrs. Binkie cast her new- 
 found dignity to the winds in a flash, and actually caught 
 poor Septimus by the arm and hustled him downstairs and 
 out to the hall door with her, Travers following closely behind, 
 in less than no time. The portals stood wide open, and the 
 light from within was shed upon two of the wettest and most 
 disconsolate-looking figures one could possibly encounter. 
 
 The Duke, dripping, but courteous as ever, raised his hat 
 in that f/rand seigneur style which no adverse circumstances 
 could ever alter. 
 
 " Pardon me, my dear Madam. I had intended sending up 
 a message, and am quite grieved that you should have come 
 out here to me." (He might have added, "but directly I 
 mentioned my name, jonv idiot of a man bolted away like 
 a rabbit!") "The fact is. Miss Comely here and I are 
 belated fox-hunters, and the Castle being a bachelor establish- 
 ment" ('at present,' murmured Adela to herself), "I have come 
 to beg the favour of a bed at your house " 
 
 "Oh, we shall be so delighted to have a " — " Duke," she was 
 just going to say, when she suddenly pulled herself up short — 
 
 "have a bed — two beds, that is " The Duke coughed — 
 
 chill, probably, from the wetting he had received — then he 
 stopped the good lady gently, by continuing, " the favour of 
 a bed here for Miss Comely. Lady Comely's house is at least 
 eight miles farther on, and on such a night " 
 
 " Oh, pray don't stop out there another minute, your 
 Dukedom," cried Mrs. Binkie, quite beside herself with joy. 
 
THE DUKE AND ADELA AT THE CHASE. 
 
 H.H. 
 
 M 
 
1 
 
 I 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 163 
 
 Although she was deprived of the pleasure of playing hostess 
 to the Duke himself, yet this was certainly the next best 
 thing to it. She was going to shelter one of the Duke's 
 particular friends. "Do come in, both of you, out 0' this 
 pourin' rain. Mortimer," this to the butler standing in 
 stately helplessness behind her, " ring for Henry to come 
 from the stables. Travers, go and take the young lady off 
 her horse." 
 
 "Oh, really ! " began Trousers, wondering how the deuce 
 taking a girl off her horse was to be managed. He went out, 
 however, into the rain, having carefully put his hat on first, and 
 stood at the animal's side, gazing vacantly up at the beautiful, 
 though somewhat dishevelled, vision above him. Then the 
 vision dismounted suddenly, knocking Travers's hat off in her 
 descent, and it rolled away into the mud. 
 
 " Are you quite sure it won't put you to any inconvenience, 
 Mrs. Binkie ? " asked Adela sweetly. 
 
 "Inconvenience! Good gracious me, Vvdiat next? And 
 with all these lazy fellers loungin' about doin' nothing." 
 (Mr. Mortimer gazed deprecatingly at the floor.) "But I 
 hope His Grace " (she had got it right this time) " is comin' 
 in, too?" 
 
 The Duke most courteously declined. The Castle was but a 
 mile and a half away, and he would not any longer risk the 
 chance of his horse catching cold. And with another Grandi- 
 sonian bow, His Grace trotted sharply off down the gravelled 
 drive, throwing a shilling to the lodge-keeper, who came 
 running out to open the gates, and making direct for home. 
 
 Meantime, Adela had been handed over to the care of 
 Penelope, with whom she found herself much more at home 
 
 M 2 
 
164 
 
 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 than with Mrs. Binkie, though the last-named lady was doing 
 all she could in the cause of hospitality, delighted at having 
 made such important acquaintances, 
 
 A warm bath, and a change into some of Penelope's 
 clothing— which fitted Miss Comely very fairly well— helped 
 considerably in her recovery from the fatigue of the day. A 
 brief application of Penelope's curling tongs, and a glass of 
 very old and choice vintage port, exercised, in their several 
 ways, a cheering effect upon her spirits; and whilst she 
 discussed a very recherche little supper in her own room, 
 Penelope sat opposite to her, talking, and the two girls 
 were soon as intimate as if they had known each other all 
 their lives. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MR. BINKIE VISITS CATCHEM COURT. 
 
 Adela departed shortly after breakfast next morning for lier 
 home, and some two days later om- friend Travers prepared to 
 leave, for a brief period, the parental roof-tree. He was going 
 to stay with his newly-found friends, Sir Toodle and Lady 
 Lumpkin, and their three charming daughters, at Catchem 
 Court. Arrayed in the very latest thing in drab driving coats, 
 adorned with pearl buttons about the size of cheese-plates, and 
 a very ' saucy ' looking billycock hat, perched just over the 
 place where the bridge of his nose ought to have been and 
 wasn't, he requested his man to give a final flick with a soft 
 cloth to his resplendent patent-leather boots, and then, at 
 length, completely satisfied with his toilet, he waddled out, 
 and climbed up into the dogcart awaiting him. His two 
 friends were standing at the door to see him ofl'. 
 
 " As Jack can't ride the little black horse you can have him 
 for next hunting-day. Tommy," said Binkie condescendingly, 
 as he gathered up his reins. 
 
 " I'll see the little black horse d— d first," was the Baronet's 
 vigorous reply. " Why, you can't get the beast over a foot- 
 high gap ! " 
 
 " Oh, really ! " squeaked Travers. " Well, don't say I didn't 
 ofier you a mount," and with a grin at his own cleverness he 
 
i66 THE HAUGHTYSHIKE HUNT. 
 
 drove off, very nearly taking one of the gate-posts with him as 
 he passed the lodge. 
 
 " I suppose he can't help it," ejaculated Mr. Dash wood 
 slowly and deliberately, as he looked down the drive after the 
 retreating dogcart; " but of all the exasperating idiots ; of all 
 the cast-iron fools ; of all the ' ' 
 
 " Come indoors and smoke the beggar's cigars," inter- 
 rupted Sir Tommy, taking the speaker by the arm. "It's 
 a much more practical way of revenging yourself upon a 
 man than by abusing him in his absence ! " and they 
 repaired indoors to punish the Cabanas and the liquor to 
 their hearts' content. 
 
 Meantime, the object of their wrath, very much pleased 
 with himself, and especially with his killing 'get-up,' was 
 driving merrily along, thinking of the fair Lucretia, and of 
 what an easy conquest she would be, if only he considered it 
 ' good enough.' About this he couldn't quite make up what 
 he called (from an excess of courtesy, perhaps) his mind. It 
 would be nice, of course, to be able to allude to ' my father-in- 
 law, Sir Toodle,' or ' my mother-in-law. Lady Lumpkin ; ' but 
 then, on the other hand, he didn't exactly know whether such 
 a marriage wouldn't rather tie him down and restrict his 
 movements. 
 
 " There's Tottie, now. A doosid nice gal, Tottie. I should 
 have to give her up, and it might break her heart. It'd be an 
 awful thing to do that. Then there's that other dear little 
 gal, what would she do if I married '? Might go and commit 
 suicide ; you never know. Gals are such rum 'uns. And I'm 
 rather a dog, I tliink. It's awful to be such a universal 
 masher, ain't it? " and Travers winked knowingly at the back 
 
MR. BINKIE ARRIVES. 
 
i 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUXT. 169 
 
 of his horse's head, and cocked his little hat still farther 
 over his little nose. 
 
 A drive of something under an hour brought him within 
 sight of Catchem Court, and as he wound his way through the 
 avenue of poplar trees he saw that the building was a sub- 
 stantial one of the Elizabethan period, heavy, square, and 
 solid-looking. Pretty and well-kept gardens surrounded it 
 on every side, and a small grey stone fountain and sun-dial 
 fronted the main entrance. The appearance of the place 
 greatly impressed our friend, and as though it wanted but a 
 feather's weight to turn the beam of his uncertain mind, he at 
 once decided that should Lucretia prove what he called ' up to 
 sample,' he would — yes, he really thought he would — give 
 her a chance to become Mrs. Travers Algernon. 
 
 Driving up to the entrance with a flourish, Mr. Binkie ran 
 his off- wheel pretty hard against the stone step projecting from 
 the doorway, and the sudden jar, whilst merely jerking the 
 driver off his seat on to the floor of the cart, shot the unfor- 
 tunate servant right out over the tail-board into the gravel path, 
 upon which he fell with a considerable amount of violence; 
 the portmanteau then deliberately tumbled out on top of him. 
 
 Whilst master and man picked themselves up, the hall door 
 opened, and Sir Toodle came out in person to welcome his 
 guest. 
 
 "Delighted to see you, my dear Mr. Binkie, truly delighted, 
 I'm sure. Your man will — ah — oh, there he is, I see, "regard- 
 ing through his spectacles the discomfited servant, who had 
 just risen, and was violently struggling with the trunk. " Your 
 man will — ah, here is Thomas. Thomas, take Mr. Binkie's 
 trunk to his room. Y'our hunter has arrived, Mr. Binkie ; 
 
170 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 came half -an -hour ago. And now come m, come in. Ladj^ 
 Lumpkin and the girls will be impatient to welcome you, I'm 
 sure;" which last statement was a euphemism, for, as a 
 matter of fact, Binkie had been asked to come in the after- 
 noon, and here he was turning up in time for luncheon. Lady 
 Lumpkin had been at her wits' end when, through the window, 
 she had seen him approaching, for she had nothing to put on 
 the table but the family cold mutton, which she had meant to 
 use up, and start with a ' clean slate ' at the first dinner. 
 
 She had promptly bundled her three blessings off up- 
 stairs to change their frocks, whilst she herself hurriedly went 
 out to interview the cook on the all-important subject of what 
 the latter could produce at that short notice, to put before the 
 untimely guest. That ancient principle — the robbing of Peter 
 for the paying of Paul — came to her aid in this extremity, and 
 two or three things which had been intended to grace the 
 dinner-table were quickly requisitioned for the earlier meal, 
 and thus a fairly respectable show was made. 
 
 Binkie entered the morning-room, after divesting himself of 
 his outer coverings, with great jauntiness. He had to be 
 content with his host's company for some time, and then 
 Lady Lumpkin came fussing in, wearing her best company 
 smile. A few minutes afterwards, first one and then another 
 of the younger ladies trickled through the door. Travers ogled 
 and kicked his legs out, and, generally speaking, contrived 
 to look a more egregious ass than usual, the while he thought 
 himself playing the finished ' man about town ' to perfection. 
 
 After luncheon was over, Lucretia — who had had a tiff with 
 her two sisters that morning as to which of the three was to 
 have ' first run ' at Mr. Binkie's face and fortune — resolutely 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 171 
 
 tacked on to our hero, and took him through the glass-houses, 
 melon-houses, grape-houses, and every other sort of buildmg 
 appertammg to Catchem Court. She showed him the pictures — 
 \Yhich were very good ; the old china — which was atrocious ; 
 and finally her collection of dolls, playful reminiscences of 
 her babyhood — quite recent, one would think, if one judged 
 by her conversation and not by her appearance. Then she, 
 with the kittenish fancy of thirty-four summers, finally put 
 one of the dolls into Mr. Binkie's arms. 
 
 " Oh, really ! " squeaked Binkie in rather alarmed tones, 
 and looking askance at the doll. " But I say, you know — 
 I— I " 
 
 "Don't you like my pretty doll?" pouted the ripe beauty. 
 " "Well, come along then, give the dear to me ; I love her. I'll 
 just put them awa}', and then we'll go and get some tea. I 
 suppose you're going to hunt to-morrow '? Colter's Barn, you 
 know, they meet. And we're all coming out in the carriage to 
 see you — what is it? fall off? — no, tJtrow off, that's the correct 
 term, isn't it ? I do so love hunting — it's so bold of men to 
 hunt, I think, and 1 do love bold men. All hunting men viiist 
 be brave, I'm sure. I've heard so much about the way you 
 ride with hounds, Mr. Binkie." 
 
 Mr. Binkie looked slightly disconcerted, and rather wished 
 she hadn't. 
 
 "Oh, really ! " he began, but was saved the efibrt of an}' 
 further observations, and his mind relieved at the same 
 moment, as the lady again gave tongue. 
 
 " Yes. How bold your riding is, and what terrible horses 
 you always will have ! I suppose you'll be jumping some 
 dreadful things to-morrow, won't you ? " 
 
172 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 " Not if I know it ! " blurted out Travers, "I— I— I mean, I 
 don't think there's anything very big to jump about this part 
 of the country. Is there? " he added, with a ring of anxiety 
 in his voice. 
 
 " Oh, I heard Mr. Eonald Dennison say the other day that 
 he considered this quite the biggest country in the Haughty- 
 shire Hunt ! " 
 
 Binkie's heart sank into his boots. 
 
 " Wouldn't it be better fun if we went for a drive '? " he 
 said. Then, with an air of heroic self-sacrifice, he added — 
 
 " Bother hunting ! I don't care a bit about giving up just 
 one day of it. I can always hunt — I can't always go for a 
 drive with Miss Lumpkin, can I?" and the vacant blue eye 
 ' goggled ' and rolled as he directed what he thought to be a 
 fatal glance at the lady, who coyly hung her head and blushed 
 becomingly, as she replied — 
 
 " Oh, I couldn't think of letting you give up a day's hunting 
 just for poor little me ! and w^e've heard so much about your 
 reckless riding on that day your dear chestnut horse fell into 
 the dyke, that we all look "forward to seeing you jump the big 
 places to-morrow." 
 
 " Oh, really ! " Dismal in the extreme was the tone of his 
 voice. He felt a kind of dryness about the lips, and a slight 
 clamminess about his fingers which he had never noticed 
 before. 
 
 They were sitting on a deep, comfortable window-seat 
 whilst this conversation was taking place. The lady's white 
 hands lay idly in her lap. Binkie's had hitherto been in his 
 pockets, but now he drew them out, and allowed his own left 
 hand^ — fat, red, and warm as usual — to wander idly away in 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 173 
 
 the direction of the lady's right. At last (accidentally, of course) 
 they touched. His clasped hers — very gently, so as not to alarm 
 her — and it didn't — and whilst in this attitude. Travers said — 
 "Wouldn't 3'ou Uhc me to come in the carriage Nvith 3^ou if 
 I said that 1 pvefcyycd it to hunting? " and he threw a glance 
 
 TRAVERS AND LUTY. 
 
 at her which was meant for impassioned love, but which 
 looked more like congenital idiotcy. 
 
 "Would you prefer it — truthfully'?" she murmured, not 
 withdrawing her hand. 
 
 "Oh, rather ! — I mean, yes — with you ! " 
 
 And how far matters might have progressed we know not, 
 
174 T^HE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 for just at that moment the lady's maid — who had a pretty 
 busy tmie of it, ' valeting ' all the four ladies at Catchem 
 Court — came noiselessly along the gallery where the twain 
 were seated, and caught them in flagrante delicto, hand in 
 hand. She discreetly coughed, and then announced that tea 
 had been taken into the drawing-room. 
 
 The lovers in embryo had, perforce, to rise and rejoin the 
 rest of the family for the purpose of helping to ruin their 
 digestions with weak tea and underdone muffins. The maid 
 disappeared into the servants' hall, muttering to herself — 
 
 "Well, I'm sure! pretty goin's on, I must say! 'Ere's my 
 gentleman a deludin' that long-legged, scraggy gal" — she did 
 not waste compliments on any of her mistresses — "and Tottie 
 tellin' me this ever so long ago as he really 'ad promised to 
 marry 'er ! At all events, I shall jest write her a note to say 
 'ow 'e's carryin' on, and leave 'er to do as she likes about 
 it." And that very evening a letter was duly written and 
 addressed to 
 
 Aliss Tottie Ttu-norcr, 
 
 at Mr. Turnover's, 
 
 Baker t£- Confectioner, 
 
 Wandell Street, 
 
 London. 
 
 which said letter might have caused some material diminution 
 of Mr. Binkie's appetite had he only known of it. Fortunately 
 for his peace of mind, he did not — but Fate, that sorry jade 
 whose frowns are many, and whose smiles are few, was brew- 
 ing a storm above his devoted head, and the lady's maid's 
 missive was the first one of the gathering clouds of which 
 that storm was to be composed. 
 
CHAPTER XIII, 
 
 ME. BINKIE TAKES THE PLUNGE. 
 
 A COMPROMISE was finally effected as to Travers's appear- 
 ance at covert-side on the morning following his arrival at 
 Catchem Court. He was to ride the trusty old brown horse, 
 and turn up in all the glory of scarlet ; but on the other 
 hand, he graciously consented, at the urgent request of 
 Miss Lumpkin, to run no unnecessary risks — a concession 
 which must have cost his martial soul a severe struggle 
 to make. He was also to leave oft' hunting early in the 
 day, so as to be back in good time for afternoon tea with 
 the ladies. 
 
 " I like this plan ! " he grinned to himself ; " doosid good 
 plan, I call it ! I shall be able to- show 'em how I look in 
 hunting- kit, and needn't do any of the jumps. Yes, it's 
 rather jolly, all this. And ain't that gal awf'ly fond of me, 
 by Jove ! I do like gals when they seem so anxious that a 
 fellow shan't fall off — I mean fall out hunting. It's so 
 much nicer than those sort of gals who hunt themselves, 
 and expect a fellow to go and jump all kinds of beastly 
 places, you know ! " 
 
 And therefore when our friend appeared at the breakfast- 
 table, so gorgeously arrayed that Solomon in all his glory 
 wouldn't have been ' in it,' he felt no misgivings as to the 
 
176 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 clay's performance, and what would be expected of him, 
 but in full confidence of kudos without risk, he sat himself 
 down and disposed of a very hearty meal. 
 
 As the carriage would only hold four, the youngest Miss 
 Lumpkin was left at home, whilst Sir Toodle and Lady 
 Lumpkin and the two elder Misses Lumpkin crammed 
 themselves into the equipage. Travers's Eoman-nosed old 
 hunter was brought round, and Miss Lumpkin watched her 
 admirer rapturously, as he danced about on one foot in 
 wild efforts to mount the horse, which icould walk calmly 
 off at the wrong moment. At last, however, he succeeded 
 in getting into his saddle, and the whole procession managed 
 to make a start. 
 
 Sir Toodle, not being a ' knowledgeable ' man in the 
 ways of horseflesh, iiad not thought to order Mr. Binkie's 
 horse to be brought round earlier than the carriage, so as 
 to enable him to hack on quietly to the meet. To him, a 
 horse was a horse — not a hunter — and if the carriage 
 animals could trot all the way, so could the hunter ; the 
 consequence of this being that Binkie arrived at the tryst 
 in a state of extreme heat, and mud, and discomfort, which 
 somewhat discomposed him, and also detracted considerably 
 from his personal appearance. Hounds had already cast 
 up, and most of the field also, when the Catchem Court 
 party came upon the scene. Two minutes later, the Duke 
 gave the word to move off, and away they went, Travers 
 still riding beside the Lumpkin carriage, 
 
 Penelope Binkie had ridden out to meet Eonald this bright 
 morning, and was now almost at the head of the cavalcade, 
 trotting along with the young barrister, just in rear of Miss 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 177 
 
 Comely (to whom she had been talkmg at the meet), the Duke 
 and Lady Lucy Silverton. 
 
 " What a pity you can't mduce your people to let you 
 hunt, Miss Binkie, isn't it?" said Eonald. He was riding^ 
 his blood-like little grey this morning, and in his hands 
 this very cheap purchase looked as though he might have 
 cost as many pounds as Eonald had given shillings for 
 him. 
 
 Penelope sighed. " They don't much like the idea of my 
 even coming out to the meets," she answered. 
 
 Eonald sighed also. A bad sign this, when two young 
 people of opposite sexes take to conveying their sentiments, 
 to each other in sighs instead of words. 
 
 " They'll let you come to our hunt steeplechases, though,, 
 won't they ? We are to have them rather earlier than usual,, 
 this year." 
 
 " Oh, yes. Shall you be running anything there '? " 
 
 "I shall enter Marmion for the Duke's Cup, and shall be 
 riding that big bay of Oakfield's in the Farmer's Plate. The 
 Duke always gives a cup, you know." 
 
 And chatting thus, they passed through an open gate- 
 way into a field beside a wood, the first covert to be drawn 
 that day. 
 
 In return for the hospitality she had received at The 
 Chase, Adela Comely, who knew how matters stood between 
 Eonald and Penelope, had contrived two or three meet- 
 ings between them, and had also intimated her desire that 
 her mother should call on Mrs. Binkie without delay. 
 Lady Comely had seen the necessity for this, and was only 
 waiting for a day convenient to herself — on which occasion 
 
 H.H. N 
 
178 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 she devoutly hoped that Mrs. Binkie would be out — to do 
 so. In her heart of hearts, Lady Comely — an aristocrat to 
 the finger-tips — didn't relish the idea of what she called 
 * hob-nobbing ' with Mrs. Septimus, but having accepted a 
 favour at her hands, in the person of Adela, she was far 
 too much of a gentlew^oman to leave so great a social debt 
 unpaid. 
 
 The whole of the assembled cohort went into the field, by 
 covert-side, with the exception of the carriages. All of these 
 drove farther on up the road, except the Catchem Court vehicle, 
 which, for the express purpose of keeping Travers in view, was 
 stationed at the gateway ; a distant sight of the horsemen 
 could still be obtained from this vantage point, and Miss 
 Lumpkin leant well over the side of the carriage, gazing, 
 in order to show her deep interest in our friend. Mr. Binkie 
 stuck his toes well out, made a hollow in his back, and tipped 
 his hat knowingly over his right eye. Presently the wood 
 got musical. Binkie didn't feel quite so comfortable, as he 
 had hoped in his heart that they wouldn't find at all. Whilst 
 the ' pow-wow ' was going on, he gently cantered up to the 
 carriage again. 
 
 " And now, I suppose, like all the rest of the hunting-men, 
 you're letting your eye rove round in search of the biggest 
 places in the hedge to jump? " cooed Miss Lumpkin, looking 
 up into Travers's vacant face. 
 
 Binkie grinned like a sick monkey. Whilst he tacitly 
 accepted this implied compliment to his boundless audacity as 
 a cross-country rider, he entertained in private his own opinion 
 on the subject of jumping big, or in fact, any other ' places.' 
 Cart-ropes and wild horses shouldn't drag him over a fence 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 179 
 
 of any sort ; he had made up his mind to that. But alas ! 
 * man proposes,' etc. 
 
 " I'm going to sacrifice my own sport to-day, for the pleasure 
 of being near you !" he whispered, bending down, and striking 
 his nose on the handle of his awkwardly held crop as he did 
 so. "After all, you know," he continued loftily, "it don't 
 
 really mat " but just at that precise moment. Sir Toodle, 
 
 who had been gazing amiably through his spectacles down 
 the road during this colloquy, suddenly rose up excitedly 
 in the carriage, and treading hard upon Lady Lumpkin's 
 toes, called out — 
 
 " Er — ah — excuse me — but er — ah — tally ho ! " and drawing 
 a gaily-coloured bandana from his pocket, he waved it airily 
 about, scattering a perfect cloud of tobacco-dust over the 
 occupants of the barouche, and starting them all off in 
 violent paroxysms of sneezing. For Sir Toodle had actually 
 seen a fox come quietly out of covert, drop himself gently 
 down the bank into the lane, and steal away across 
 the road. A minute or two later, and the voice of the 
 Huntsman was heard from the wood, a confused chorus 
 of ' yaps ' and ' tow-yows ' from the pack, and then, one 
 after another, hounds emerged from the covert, scrambled 
 down the bank into the lane below, puzzled a few moments 
 over the line, and then crossed the road into the little 
 spinney beyond, where scent lay richly ; and, no longer in 
 any doubt, they threw their tongues with a hearty goodwill 
 that must have struck terror into bold Eeynard, travelling 
 such a very little way in front of them. 
 
 Then ensued a regular scramble for the gateway into the 
 lane. "Do get on, there." "Now then, sir, do you suppose 
 
 N 2 
 
i8o THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 we are going to wait while you pull up your girths?" 
 " Oh, do get out of the way, and let me come," etc., etc., etc. ; 
 and poor Travers, caught by the head-waters of this rushing 
 stream, was forced, greatly against his will, to make one of 
 the leaders in the charge of cavalry. 
 
 Will came hurrying along through the crowd, everyone 
 making way for him, as he crammed and hustled his horse 
 across the road, and at the opposite bank. With a scramble, 
 he got up and over it into the spinney beyond, and Travers, 
 caught in an agony of fear and indecision, was next on the 
 rota. " Should he try it ; or would he be likely to slip over 
 
 his horse's tail if he did? Would it be best " but an 
 
 indignant outburst of language from behind, cut short his 
 musings with considerable abruptness. 
 
 "Go on, sir!" "Now then, either go yourself, or allow 
 someone else to ! " " We can't wait all night here, you know," 
 " Shove him at it !" with an impatient " Gor-bless-my-soul, 
 when-I-was-a-young-man," sort of growl from old Com- 
 mander Clump E.N., sent Travers, most unwillingly, at the 
 bank — the truth being that he was more frightened to stay 
 behind than to go at the obstacle. The old Eoman-nosed brown, 
 half jumped, half climbed up the bank, and although Binkie 
 slipped over the saddle, and very nearly as far as the root of 
 his horse's tail, he still, by strenuous exertions, avoided the 
 crowning catastrophe of sliding right off, and sitting down in 
 the lane. Once over the obstacle, he waxed valiant, and 
 galloped along through the spinney, close after the Huntsman's 
 horse. On they went, dodging a branch here and a stub there, 
 swerving aside to miss a boggy patch to the right, turning 
 quickly to avoid a slab of stone on the left. Hounds were 
 
Travcrs np a Tree, 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. i8i 
 
 running ahead down the ride, as hard as they could go, and 
 Travers was thinking to hiinself how much he would like 
 hunting if it were all like this, without any jumping, when with 
 a violence which knocked all the wind clean out of him, he 
 wrapped himself round the overhanging arm of a tree, to 
 which he wildly clung, as his steed galloped gaily away from 
 under him. 
 
 " Oh, really ! " gasped poor Binkie. 
 
 Luckily for him, our friend found that the rest of the field 
 had gone round the outside of the spinney, instead of following 
 him through the ride. He dropped gently to earth again, 
 and when his normal breathing powers were quite restored, 
 trudged off up the wood, to see if he could find any trace of his 
 errant horse. The old fellow had not gone more than two 
 hundred yards from where he had left his owner, before getting 
 one foreleg through the reins. This, as may well be imagined, 
 had considerably hampered his movements, and soon after- 
 wards he had contrived to hitch himself up in almost inextric- 
 able confusion to the lower branches of a tree, where Travers, 
 fortunately, found him, and after about a quarter of an 
 hour's work freed him from his entanglement. Our hero then 
 got on his back, and proceeded to essay the task of finding his 
 way home. It was rather a long business, and he did not cast up 
 at Catchem Court until some time past the usual luncheon hour. 
 
 Lucretia came running out into the hall to meet him. 
 
 " How splendidly he had led the whole field at that dreadful- 
 looking bank ! and how naughty it was of him, after promising 
 her — yes, promising her faithfully, that he w^ouldn't run any 
 risks ! She was afraid he was not to be trusted ! " and Binkie's 
 vacuous eye goggled at her as he put on a very knowing look, 
 
i82 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 kicked his legs about, and murmured that he really hadn't 
 been able to resist the temptation when the time actually came. 
 
 " And had you a fine run ? " asked Miss Lumpkin. 
 
 " Oh, beautiful ! " replied Mr, Binkie, who had been with 
 hounds about three minutes in all. 
 
 " And where did you run to ? " queried the fair one, really 
 imagining that she was pleasing him by seeming to take an 
 interest in hunting : " Where did you run to ? " 
 
 Binkie hadn't the faintest notion, so he said vaguely that 
 they ' ran over a lot of fields, you know — some grass and some 
 plough — jumps? Oh, yes, awful jumps — what sort? Oh, 
 hedges and ditches and things — all that sort of thing, don't 
 you know. And now he really thought he'd go upstairs and 
 take off his hunting things, and get into something a bit more 
 comfortable, you know.' And under cover of this, he at length 
 escaped from Lucretia's slightly embarrassing questions. 
 
 Mr. Binkie graciously acceded to his host's suggestion that 
 he should stay on with them over the Sunday, and not leave till 
 Monday at midday. He and the fair Lucretia sat in each other's 
 pockets all that evening, looking, from time to time, unutterable 
 things into each other's eyes. Mamma Lumpkin gazed at the 
 performance with evident approval, and after retiring for the 
 night she said impressively to her husband — 
 
 "Toodle, I smell a rat!" 
 
 "Do you, indeed, my dear? That's very unpleasant. I — I — " 
 (sniffing very hard) " I don't smell anything of the kind 
 myself." 
 
 " No, no ! " exclaimed the lady impatiently, " I mean that 
 there's really something on the tajyis between that young 
 fellow and Luty." 
 
 % 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 183 
 
 " Think so, my dear ? " and the tone was rather that of the 
 unbeHever. Sir Toodle had seen this fair bait nibbled at once 
 or twice before, but nothing had come of it, and ' hope 
 deferred,' etc. 
 
 "I do. You see, he is a perfect idiot " 
 
 " Yes, that's in our favour, certainly." 
 
 " and must get a tremendous lot of money when the old 
 
 man dies. You know, there's only one other child, and they 
 are pretty well sure to have it all divided between them; 
 perhaps the " 
 
 " idiot," mildly suggested Sir Toodle. 
 
 " young man will even get the larger share. In either 
 
 case the father is sure to come down with a big allowance 
 on the boy's marriage. Terrible old couple, the mother and 
 father— you saw them at the Hunt Ball, you know ; still, 
 Luty is not quite so young as she was, and I think— I really 
 do think— it would be a very good thing for her." 
 
 For truth to tell, Luty's combative spirit had always been 
 somewhat of an exhausting factor in the home tranquillity of 
 Catchem Court— she was, as her father used to say, ' a trifle 
 
 wearing.' 
 
 Sir Toodle said nothing as he bent forward over the mirror, 
 and carefully completed the tallowing of his nose. He had 
 caught cold on the drive home from the meet that day. Then, 
 blowing out the candle, he sententiously remarked— 
 
 " At all events, my dear, it would be a very good thing 
 
 for us ! " 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 AFFAIRS MATRIMONIAL. 
 
 As the direct upshot of those little meetings cat covert-side 
 and elsewhere, between Ronald Dennison and Penelope, the 
 gentleman in question had thoroughly made up his mind that, 
 being genuinely in love with the possessor of the fairy face 
 and willowy figure, he would put his fate to the test without 
 any further delaj'. Not that he felt much doubt about the 
 lady's decision, and surely few men in real life are so dense 
 as to be unable to read the answer to that all-important 
 question before it is asked. But, speaking generally, most 
 men are pretty sure of not being met by a refusal when 
 the momentous query is put ; if they were not thus sure, 
 probablj^ the boon would never be asked at all. Accordingl}-, 
 Mr. Dennison, taking advantage of a chance meeting with 
 the object of his affections, on the Sunday following the day 
 on which Travers had hung himself up in the tree, spoke 
 that which was in his heart. Penelope was taking a sharp 
 walk in the direction of the post-office, whilst Ronald had 
 been paying his usual Sunday afternoon visit to the kennels, 
 when they met. 
 
 "Which way are you going. Miss Binkie — to the post?" 
 said he, as he raised his cap. And on the lady's smilingly 
 admitting this to be her destination, he added mendaciously. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 185 
 
 "So was I. May I walk with you?" and it was easy to 
 guess what the answer would be. 
 
 Reader, I will spare you the ensuing scene. You and I 
 have both been through it — 'more than once,' did you say? 
 Ah, very likely. And I've always heard that there's a painful 
 want of variety about such performances. Haven't you? 
 
 " I'm awfully poor," sighed Ronald, " I don't feel at all cer- 
 tain about your father ever giving his consent, but I must try." 
 
 "But we — that is, my father is rich, so that won't matter, 
 will it?" 
 
 "Yes, dear. That's just what will matter, worse luck. 
 You see, in this world, a man who is rich doesn't think much 
 of one who isn't. If the daughter of Dives marries, it isn't 
 necessary that the man she weds should possess any qualifica- 
 tion except that he should be rich also. If a poor man falls 
 in love with her, he must necessarily be a scoundrel and 
 an adventurer, according to the world's estimate. It's an 
 awful and an unjust doctrine ; nevertheless, it's the one 
 favoured by all civilized nations." 
 
 " Surely, if one or other has money " began Penelope, 
 
 her pretty eyes half filling with tears. 
 
 " No, dearest one, that's just it. If both were poor — hadn't, 
 in fact, anything to live on, people would say : 'Oh, well, 
 he (or she) couldn't hope to do any better ; ' and again, if both 
 were rich, it would be all right. However, I'm not absolutely 
 penniless, and I've always got my profession as a barrister to 
 fall back upon. Unfortunately, it's a precious poor fall-back. 
 I practised for five years and never made a hundred a year at 
 it. All the briefs and all the prizes at the Bar fall to those 
 who have interest ; and I have none. But at all events, I'll 
 
i86 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 go to your father and ask his consent to-morrow. Then we 
 shall hear what he says." 
 
 And so they parted, Konald with a new sense of responsi- 
 bility on his mind, which depressed, but at the same time 
 pleased him. 
 
 Whilst this little love scene was enacting outside the gates 
 of The Chase, Travers and Lucretia were what the former 
 called ' going it ' in the drawing-room of Catchem Court ; for 
 they were sitting hand-in-hand on the sofa, and the susceptible 
 Trousers had just taken the plunge, and asked Luty to be his 
 own, his very own, and Luty had consented to be a party 
 to that ultra-proprietary arrangement. 
 
 On the following day Travers arrived home, and started 
 at once for the study to ' tell Pa ' the great news. He was 
 gently restrained by the gorgeous Mortimer, who informed 
 him that Mr. Eonald Dennison was, at that moment, inter- 
 viewing Mr. Septimus Binkie in his own apartment. Travers 
 therefore postponed his own important announcement for the 
 moment, and went upstairs to find Jack and Sir Tommy. 
 The former, wearing a gaudily-trimmed loose silk dressing 
 jacket of Travers's, was gracefully reclining in an easy-chair, 
 his feet resting on the mantelpiece, and ' Jorrocks ' set upon 
 the natural reading-desk made of his legs. Sir Tommy was 
 perusing the Sportinci Life and marking down what he called 
 ' a snip ' for a steeplechase at Kempton, and both gentlemen 
 were pulling away contentedly at their host's Cabanas. 
 
 " Come in, old chap ! " exclaimed Jack, as if he were 
 welcoming a guest, "you'll find a chair somewhere or other. 
 And how have you enjoyed yourself? " 
 
 " Oh, I've had a doosid fine time ! Are those letters for 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 187 
 
 me ? Chuck 'em over, will you ? Hullo, this looks as if it 
 came from a lady, eh ? " and Travers grimied knowingly. 
 
 IN TRAVERS'S DEN. 
 
 " Well, it looks as if it came from a female," replied 
 Tommy guardedly, and then Mr. Binkie began reading. 
 At their interview, Eonald frankly told Mr. Binkie of his 
 
i88 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 love for Penelope, and also of his own exceedingly small 
 income. At the same moment he offered to at once resign 
 his present happy-go-lucky style of life, and try anew his 
 fortune at the Bar. 
 
 Septimus pursed up his mouth, and thrust his hands deep 
 into his trousers pockets. 
 
 "Ha, h'm, and how do you propose to set up an establish- 
 ment and keep a wife, hey ? What's your idea ? " 
 
 Now, this extremely commercial way of looking at things 
 was rather embarrassing to Mr. Dennison. Birth, position, 
 youth, good looks, the profession of a gentleman, all these 
 might well and reasonably have been thrown into the balance, 
 but then it did not lie in his own mouth to put such matters 
 forward. The worthy inventor of Binkie's Composites asked no 
 question as to moral fitness ; that never seemed to enter into 
 his head. All he asked was, virtually, and put into plain 
 language: "How many golden sovereigns have you got?" 
 And Mr. Binkie was not alone in this. The vast majority of 
 the fathers of to-day never ask a man what he is ; they always 
 ask him what he has; it seems to be such a much more 
 interesting subject. 
 
 Of course, poor Pionald's reply to this direct question was 
 rather nebulous, and equally of course it never occurred to 
 Mr. Septimus Binkie that, were he to allow his daughter a 
 few hundreds, out of his many thousands a year — to give her, 
 in fact, an income equal to that which Eonald Dennison had 
 himself, that he could make two worthy young people 
 supremely happy; and so the interview ended in the 
 way such interviews usually do end, and Eonald rose to 
 leave, not in the least intending to give up Penelope, but 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 189 
 
 certainly ' pegged back,' as far as the immediate future 
 was concerned. 
 
 As he closed the door behind him, he was confronted by 
 Travers ; that young gentleman's face was even more pasty 
 than usual, and he gasped rather than said — 
 
 "Oh! I say, you're a sort of a lawyer, ain't you? That 
 is, a barrister, I mean? Well, do come into my room 
 for a few minutes, and tell me wha-wha-what the devil 
 I'm to do ! It's awful ! It really is doosid awful ! " and 
 consumed by astonishment, Ronald followed our hero into 
 the little den, where his two Eingnose friends still sat 
 placidly smoking. 
 
 Passing a fat red paw over his dank hair and per- 
 spiring brow, Binkie stood at the end of the table, and 
 from a pink sheet of note-paper with scalloped edges, 
 which he held in his hand, read out, in trembling accents, 
 the following — 
 
 " Wandell Street, London. 
 " My once dear H.\lgy, 
 
 " It canot bee oh no it canot bee that you would play 
 
 me false but ow am i to understand setch conduct of yours 
 
 wen told it by a friend who shall be uaimless i mean that ther 
 
 is a roomer you are injaged to bee marrid too a sertain Miss 
 
 Lumking. tell me its not true i canot berleeve it off you. 
 
 you know that you always give me too understand that i wos 
 
 to bee the Wun, an i ave yr own letters too proove it, has you 
 
 know, Halgy. Hear is what you wrote me larst year, copid 
 
 out ; i keep the origginule. 
 
 " 'if ever I marry I shall apply at your shop in Wandell 
 
 street, for all the requisites.' 
 
igo THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 " and shurely the first requisite for a marridge is A Bride, 
 so there, write and tel me all is false or never see me agane. 
 
 " TOTTIE. 
 
 " p.S. — i ave alreddy showed the leter too a solissyter who 
 ses it is ' good biz.' " 
 
 Travers finished reading this precious missive, and dropped 
 helplessly into the seat at his side. Then, letting his face 
 sink into his hands, he groaned — 
 
 " And I was just engaged to be married, too ! " 
 
 Eonald sat on, thinking over the situation. Sir Tommy 
 and Jack quietly sneaked off out of the room to save them- 
 selves any trouble in the matter. If Binkie liked to be such 
 a fool, etc., etc., they said, it was no business of theirs. And 
 if he was ' on the marry,' well, he wouldn't be much more 
 good to them anyhow, so he and his affairs might ' rip,' for 
 all they cared. 
 
 After a prolonged pause, varied at intervals by Binkie 's 
 hollow groans, Ronald spoke — 
 
 " Is that the only letter she has of yours ? " 
 
 "I — I — think so. And I never had the faintest idea of 
 marrying her, you know. I have fooled about. You remember 
 seeing her with me at Aldridge's, that day, and I told you she 
 wasn't quite " 
 
 " Quite — yes, I remember. Well, it looks as though she 
 means mischief, and she's apparently gone to one of these 
 scoundrelly lawyers who make a practice, such as it is, out of 
 taking up shady and speculative cases. But if that's really all 
 the proof she can show of an engagement to marry, why, I 
 think I can promise you a safe deliverance." 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 191 
 
 " It's so awful sad, too, to have to part with her — such a 
 joll}^ sort of gal and so doosid fond of me, too ! I don't 
 know, I'm sure, how I shall ever live without her." 
 
 " Yes, that's all very well, but when a woman hints at legal 
 proceedings against a man, it's about time that he gave up 
 sentiment, and looked to defending himself, I think," said 
 Eonald decisively. 
 
 " I say, Dennison, if — if — if she really should begin an 
 action for breach of promise, you'll defend me, won't you, 
 like a good chap? I should feel safer in the hands of a 
 friend, you know." 
 
 " Certainly I will, if you really wish it, though I should 
 have thought you'd have had more confidence in a man 
 who was in court every day of his life, than in me. 
 However, that's just as you like. And now I must be 
 going, so good-bye ! " and shaking hands, Eonald took 
 his departure — after a meeting (purely accidental, of course) 
 with Penelope on the stairs, a stolen kiss, and a hurried 
 exchange of rings. 
 
 After half-an-hour's abandonment to black despair, the 
 wretched Travers raised his head from the table where it 
 had been reposing, seized a pen, paper, and envelopes, and 
 laboriously composed the following missive — 
 
 " The Chase. 
 "My deak Tottie, 
 
 " I was awfully surprised and grieved to receive your 
 
 letter to-day. It has made me feel quite upset to-day. You 
 
 know I have always thought so much about you and done all 
 
 I could to help your father's business. Think of the number 
 
 of tarts I've eaten when I really didn't want them, and all for 
 
192 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 the good of the house ; and think also of all the cherry 
 brandies at 6f/. a glass I've drunk — and that reminds me, I 
 don't believe you are licensed to be drunk on your premises, 
 are you '? So I've done all I could in that way. Also the 
 things I've given you. I enclose list of everything I can 
 think of, but am sure there are more which perhaps you will 
 recollect. I always loved you, but there was the gulf of trade 
 between us, and I could not marry you. You must see this 
 yourself, i.e. that you couldn't marry a county family {sic). 
 As to the letter I wrote, I meant if ever I married, I'd have 
 the wedding-breakfast at your shop. But in conclusion, I 
 might marry you some day or other (who knows ?) that is, if 
 you don't put the matter into a beastly lawyer's hands, because 
 they are interfering people, who I don't like. 
 
 " Yours as ever, 
 
 "A. T. BiNKIE." 
 
 And the reply to this somewhat injudicious letter was 
 contained in a black bag, carried by a seedy-looking, middle- 
 aged man, who called at The Chase two days later, and asked 
 for Mr. Binkie Junior, On the appearance of that gentleman, 
 the middle-aged man politely asked him for his name, and on 
 receiving an answer, presented him with a paper bearing the 
 printed heading of 'Victoria, by the Grace,' etc., and setting 
 forth that this was the writ in an action of 'Turiiover v. 
 Binkie' for damages (which were modestly laid at £5,000) for 
 breach of a promise to marry. 
 
 " Oh, really ! " murmured Binkie in plaintive tones, and 
 almost dissolving into tears as he stood helplessly in the hall, 
 the writ fluttering about in his hands. The middle-aged 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 
 
 195 
 
 gentleman, his mission thus satisfactorily accomplished,, 
 bowed himself out, and down the front -door steps. 
 
 'It never rains but it pours,' and to put the finishing 
 touch on poor Trousers's burden of woe, he received, that 
 
 THE WRIT. 
 
 evening, a polite note, bearing the address of Catchem Court 
 upon the back of the envelope. It ran as follows — 
 
 " Catchem Court. 
 " My dear Sir, 
 
 " I understand from my daughter Lucretia, that whilst 
 
 staying with us here, you did her and ourselves — I speak with 
 
 the full concurrence of my wife — the great honour of proposing 
 
 for her hand. I could have wished, perhaps, that you had 
 
 H.H. o 
 
194 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 spoken to me at the time, but doubtless you had your own 
 reasons for not doing so, and we will say no more about that. 
 I am anxious to see you as soon as possible, and I am 
 sure you will forgive a parent's solicitude on such an all- 
 important subject as the future of his child, I may 
 perhaps, without indiscretion, add that your coming is 
 anxiously looked forward to by a certain member of our 
 family whom I suppose I need not further s^Decify. [A pon- 
 derous attempt on the part of Sir Toodle at being playfully 
 facetious.] So, my dear sir, come over to see us and let us 
 get all the troublesome lawyer's business [Travers groaned 
 aloud] over and done with. Lady Lumpkin — who, I may 
 remark, en passant, was greatly taken with you when you 
 were staying with us — joins me in kindest regards, and intends 
 after we have had an interview with you, and matters have 
 been placed on a satisfactory footing, to do herself the honour 
 and pleasure of calling upon Mrs. Binkie at The Chase. 
 " Believe me, my dear sir, 
 
 " Very truly yours, 
 
 " TooDLE Lumpkin. 
 
 " P.S. — Perhaps if you yourself are unacquainted with the 
 details of business matters, you would prefer me to see your 
 excellent father on these points." 
 
 The letter fluttered quietly down to the ground from the 
 nerveless fingers, and Mr. Travers Algernon Binkie took to 
 his bed. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 NOEL-TIDE. 
 
 Christmas came on apace, but the approach of the so-called 
 festive season hardly brought much Joy into the home at 
 The Chase. Penelope moped, dull and disconsolate, the only 
 bright beams which came across her mental horizon being an 
 occasional stolen meeting with her constant lover. Travers, 
 between the two terrible fires of Catchem Court on the one 
 hand, and the action of ' Turnover r. Binkie' on the other, was 
 in the depths of despair. Mr. Septimus Binkie looked glum 
 at the thought of having to very possibly pay up substantial 
 damages on behalf of his precious son ; whilst Mrs. Septimus 
 was furious at the thought of such a ' low-born hussy ' daring 
 to think of an alliance with the family of a Merchant Prince. 
 She, good lady, was also rather in doubt about the wisdom of 
 refusing Konald Dennison as her son-in-law. If he had no 
 money, he was certainly ' County,' and went into the best 
 society ; he was also good-looking, well dressed, a hunting 
 r man, and received on terms of perfect equality at the 
 
 Duke's. She really couldn't make up her mind whether he 
 ought not to be brought back again, but — and at this point 
 it was that her reflections were always broken off in an 
 abrupt fashion. She really did not know what to do, or 
 how to advise, or rather command, for the best. 
 
 o 2 
 
196 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 " Sep," she said suddenly, one afternoon — it was the day 
 preceding Christmas Eve, and Penelope had gone for a solitary 
 walk — not to meet Ronald ; only that she happened — what, 
 yon don't lielieve it ? Oh, very well, then, it's no good my 
 saying that it was an accident. 
 
 " Sep," repeated that gentleman's better half, " don't you 
 think, perhaps, that you was a fool to refuse that young 
 Dennison ? " 
 
 "Yes, my dear, if ?/o?( think so," replied he discreetly. It. 
 came so much cheaper in the end to agree with Mrs. Septimus, 
 and enabled him the sooner to get his afternoon nap. 
 
 " Of course there's the objection that he hasn't got any 
 money " 
 
 " Any money," echoed Sep faintly. 
 
 " Nor prospects of ever getting any." 
 
 " Getting any," smothering a yawn. 
 
 "But theie, he's a real gentleman, you see; and what's, 
 more, he looks it." 
 
 " Looks it," in still fainter tones from Sep. 
 
 "Looks what? " queried the lady sharply. 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know, my dear. What was it you 
 were saying? " 
 
 "You're half asleep, Septimus, that's what it is. It's na 
 good trying to get any sense out of a man that's always 
 thinking either of his stom " 
 
 "Cecilia!" 
 
 "Well, his inside, then, if that's more genteel, and of 
 going to sleep directly after he's done eatin'. I'm not sure 
 it wouldn't l)e best still, to give Penelly — the gal's cryin' 
 her eyes out for him, I can see — to give Penelly five 'undred 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 197 
 
 a year — you'd never even miss that, you know, Sep — and 
 let 'em marry. It seems to me it's the only way we shall 
 €ver get into society, now. As to that stoopid boy of ours, 
 he'll never be any good to us, that's certain, as he's got into 
 this mess. I'm afraid the Catchem Court people won't even 
 look at him, now, and Dennison's a very pop'lar man, all 
 round. And — and — " (and this had been working powerfully 
 in Mrs. Binkie's mind, for the past week), "and he's got that 
 Prince feller stoppin' with him, and I should awf'ly like to 
 have him here and entertain him so as all the people round 
 about should hear of it. If we could only get him up to 
 The Chase to spend Christmas Day, now ! " and Mrs. Binkie 
 clasped her hands ecstatically, at the thought of so much 
 glory as entertaining a real live Indian Prince. She sank 
 into a state of deep thought for a time, and then looked 
 up to see her lord peacefully dozing in his arm-chair by 
 the fire. 
 
 " Sep," she cried shrilly. The unfortunate gentleman 
 woke with so violent a start that he nearly fell out of 
 his chair. 
 
 " Yes, my dear? " 
 
 " I have it ! " 
 
 " Have you, indeed ? " 
 
 " We'll write to Dennison and say that while withholding 
 our consent for the time bein', we do not forbid his comin' to 
 the house. We will allow the young people to meet, on strict 
 condition that we're not to be taken to consent — not at present, 
 anyhow — and I shall ask him to come and dine with us 
 Christmas Day, and bring his friend, the Prince. Who 
 knows but what Penelly might change her mind and take 
 
I9& THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 up with the great Pottentate hmiself ? Might hke to become 
 a princess, you know." 
 
 " What ! to a nigger ! " exclaimed Mr. Binkie, aghast, all 
 his insular notions rising in revolt at such a thought. 
 
 "Indian princes are not niggers, Mr. Binkie," said the 
 lady reprovingly, "and would not thank you for calling 
 them such. I shall ask Dennison to come and bring his 
 friend;" and without more ado Mrs. Binkie walked over 
 to a Davenport standing in one of the window recesses, and 
 indited her note in a big, sprawling hand, asking for the 
 pleasure of Mr. Eonald Dennison's and friend's company at 
 dinner, on Christmas Day. 
 
 Mrs. Binkie addressed the envelope, and looking up, said — 
 
 " Of course, it'll be only an ong famille dinner. I've told 
 him that. I suppose princes don't mind ong famille dinners? 
 Anyhow, we must chance it." 
 
 But Sep was again asleep, and her words simply lost them- 
 selves in space. 
 
 When Mrs. Binkie conveyed the news of the invitation 
 given to Mr. Dennison for Christmas Day, Penelope's whole 
 manner changed as though by magic. Not only would she 
 have her lover at her side then, but she could not fail to see 
 that this was the * beginning of the end,' as far as serious 
 opposition went, to their ultimate marriage. Her heart 
 rejoiced therefore, and she was at no pains to conceal the 
 fact. 
 
 Poor Travers had already written a temporising letter in 
 reply to the one from Sir Toodle. He had said that he 
 was far from well just at present — was, in fact, suffering 
 from shock (which was perfectly true), but that he would 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 199 
 
 again communicate with Sir Toodle when he felt sufficiently 
 recovered to do so. " 
 
 The Lumpkins couldn't make this out at all. Mr. Binkie 
 had seemed perfectly well in health when he left them, and 
 even now he didn't allege any specific illness, but only that 
 he was suffering from a shock. What shock? Sir Toodle 
 couldn't understand it ; Lady Lumpkin couldn't understand 
 it, neither could the three Misses Lumpkin grasp its meaning. 
 Lucretia was a trifle dashed, but she was none the less, 
 determined. She had waited all these years for an offer ; 
 now she had got one, she was hardly the person to let it slip. 
 
 On Christmas Day the two invited guests, Eonald Dennison 
 and his Indian friend — who had been a college chum of his^ 
 ten years before, and, as an enthusiastic horseman, had deter- 
 mined to revisit England for a little hunting in the shires — 
 duly arrived ten minutes before the dinner-hour. 
 
 " Very kind of you to ask two lone males to share your 
 hospitality, Mrs. Binkie, to-day," said Eonald as he shook 
 hands with his hostess. " Let me introduce Prince Baboojee 
 Hurrycurree, of Chutneepore, an old friend of mine, and a 
 great sportsman. He's having a little hunting with me, just 
 at present." 
 
 The Prince bowed courteously over Mrs. Binkie's hand. 
 He was an extremely good-looking young man, and not so 
 dark as the majority of Orientals. The enterprising hostess 
 at once began to think of possibilities in the way of a Prince 
 for a son-in-law. Perhaps this love affair of ' Penelly's ' with 
 Eonald was only skin-deep— they had known each other only so 
 short a time ; and then she thought to herself that the name 
 * Princess Penelope ' sounded almost regal in its magnificence. 
 
200 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Jack Dashwood and Sir Tommy, together with the Binkie 
 family, made up the dinner-party. Sep had, on more than 
 one occasion, asked Travers when he thought his two limpet- 
 like friends were going to terminate their visit to The Chase, 
 but had been quite unable to obtain the slightest information 
 on the subject. They seemed to be permanently rooted to the 
 soil — fixtures of the house, in fact. 
 
 During the whole of dinner Mrs. Binkie laid herself out to 
 the congenial task of cold-shouldering Konald in favour of 
 Eonald's dusky friend, who, she found, spoke the Queen's 
 English a great deal better than she did herself. 
 
 After the distinguished guest had said that he liked every- 
 thing in England except its terrible climate, his hostess took 
 up the running : "And you really like England better than 
 India ; do you now, indeed? Ah, well, I don't wonder at it, 
 I'm sure. I think it shows your good taste. And English 
 institutions and customs, too ? You like them better than the 
 Eastern ones ? Such, for instance, as only having one wife. 
 You approve of that, Prince ? " 
 
 His Highness bowed smilingly. "Certainly I do," he 
 replied. 
 
 Mrs. Binkie shot a malicious glance in the direction of 
 Eonald, who was saying something to Penelope. 
 
 "And do you approve of Indian gentlemen marrying 
 EngHsh ladies ? " 
 
 " Why not? We are all subjects of the Queen. I person- 
 ally am particularly favourable to such marriages " Here 
 
 Mrs. Binkie, as she saw the Prince's eye wander down the 
 table till it rested on Penelope's beautiful face, glowed with 
 the triumph of a possible near victory. ' My daughter, the 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 201 
 
 Princ3ss.' Oh, could Fate really have such glory in store 
 for a family risen to affluence upon Binkie's Composites ? 
 
 AN OLD DOG FOX. 
 
 And then the mellifluous voice of the Prince went on to the 
 conclusion of his sentence — 
 
 " for, eight years ago, I married an English lady, 
 
202 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 who, curiously enough, somewhat resembles your beautiful 
 daughter." 
 
 A married man ! Poor Mrs, Binkie's hopes were crushed 
 again to the earth. A moment before, and she had been 
 apostrophising the fickle goddess in most humble though 
 expectant terms. Now she would have liked to have taken the 
 hussy by the shoulders and given her a good shaking. It 
 was not until the close of that evening that she properly 
 recovered herself, and then, under cover of a brilliant 
 performance on the piano by the Indian Prince — a perfect 
 musician — she drew Ronald a little on one side, and in low 
 tones said to him — 
 
 "Now, Mr. Dennison, I think things ought to be put 
 straight between us. I don't like going on in what I call a 
 hugger-mugger way. You haven't got the money to keep 
 Penelly as a wife ought to be kept. Well, we — me and Sep 
 — have, and as I like you I've a mind to see if we can't do 
 something for you. But look here — you're to appear as 
 Counsel for my boy in this breach of promise case. Now, 
 you must get him oft', do you see ? " 
 
 " Of course I'll do my best for him, Mrs. Binkie, you may 
 depend upon that ; but as to persuading the jury to give a 
 verdict for the defendant, that's another matter. You see, in 
 all these cases of breach of promise the juries' sympathies 
 invariably seem to lie with the fair plaintiff." 
 
 Mrs. Binkie looked vexed. Then she went on — 
 
 " It ain't for the money. We'd pay that — if it wasn't too 
 much ; of course this five thousand claim's quite out of 
 the question — but I don't want a verdict given against us. 
 You see ? " 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 203 
 
 " I see. But how am I- 
 
 " That's your busmess, not mme. But as every labourer is 
 worthy of his hire, I'll make you this offer : if no verdict is 
 
 given against us in this action bother ! he's stopped playin' 
 
 — never mind, you go over and talk to the rest and I'll just 
 write it down in pencil on the back of this card, and give it 
 you when you go." 
 
 Eonald rose in obedience to the commands of his hostess, 
 and went across the room to join the group at the piano. 
 They persuaded the Prince to play another piece ; then 
 Penelope, in a sweet, if not very strong voice, sang the air of 
 an old-fashioned Christmas carol, and in this way the rest 
 of the evening passed rapidly and pleasantly away. When 
 the visitors rose to take their departure, Mrs. Binkie, in 
 saying good-night to Ptonald, slipped an ordinary visiting- 
 card into his hand (a little awkward this, as Penelope had 
 just previously placed in the same receptacle a dear little 
 three-cornered note, expressive, as Pionald afterwards found, 
 of her undying devotion and her determination to marry 
 him and no other man 'in the wide, wide world'). He 
 and the Prince then wrapped their fur coats about them, 
 and tramped off through the snow in the direction of their 
 rooms. The stars shone bright and hard, and an old dog 
 fox crossed their path near the shrubbery, wending his way 
 towards the house. As soon as they got into their rooms, 
 Eonald turned up the lamp, drew Mrs. Binkie's card from 
 his pocket and read as follows — 
 
 " If we win the case of ' Turnover v. Binkie ' you have my 
 
 consent to marry Penelope. 
 
 "C. B." 
 
204 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 After that ten daj's or so of frost at Christmas-time, our 
 friends were able to resume hunting. Travers, who had 
 shghtly recovered his spirits and * moral tone ' as the family 
 physician euphoniously called it, played the part alternatel}^ of 
 hunter and hunted — for he was as often the quarry of the fair 
 Lucretia, as was the fox his own. Nothing fresh had been 
 heard of the great suit of ' Turnover v. Binkie' — at least, by 
 Travers himself — the lawyers were hurling ' pleadings ' and 
 other dangerous missiles at each other, with their tongues in 
 their cheeks as they reckoned up what a fat bill-of-costs they 
 would presently have against their respective clients — but our 
 fat friend, hearing nothing more on the subject, concluded 
 to let matters slide, and thus regained his confidence and 
 
 courage. 
 
 And so it was that he managed to pay his devoirs once more 
 to the fair lady of Catchem Court, and explain away, in stupid, 
 hesitating fashion, the original hitch in the matrimonial 
 negotiations. That terrible interview in the study with Papa 
 had been satisfactorily^ negotiated, and proved to be not such 
 a big fence as Mr. Binkie had at first feared ; the fact being 
 that the powers at the Court were of that self-sacrificing kind 
 which sutlers much, rather than fails to achieve its object. 
 True, Lady Lumpkin had, at first, exclaimed gushingly — 
 " Oh, I'm sure we could never, no never, spare Lucretia ! " 
 However, in the result, they ' spared ' her to Travers, and 
 let us hope that he was duly sensible of the immensity of the 
 favour so conferred. And then, as soon as it was publicly 
 made known that Lucretia Lumpkin was engaged to be 
 married to the hope of The Chase, Lady Lumpkin drove over 
 and made a formal call on Mrs. Binkie. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIKE HUXT. 205 
 
 It would be stretching the bounds of strict veracity to say 
 that the interview was a particularly cordial one. Lady 
 Lumpkin, although obliged, by the exigencies of the case, to 
 be civil, came away ' horrified, quite too horrified,' as she 
 expressed it to her second daughter, who waited for her in the 
 carriage outside, ' with that awful woman's vulgarity ! ' and 
 Mrs. Binkie, on her part, confided to Sep that she never met 
 anybody more ' top-loftical ' (whatever that might mean) than 
 Lady Lumpkin. "Oh, she's that haughty and overbearin' I 
 couldn't stand the woman at all, that I couldn't. Our boy'U 
 have a nice time of it with her for a mother-in-law, I'm think- 
 ing ! " And to tell the truth, our friend Trousers had, in 
 secret, cherished much the same idea. Luty also, now she 
 was firmly settled in the saddle as an engaged young woman, 
 was not quite so pleasant a companion as she had been 
 beforehand. The combative side of her disposition was given 
 rather too free a rein, and poor Travers lived in a con- 
 tinual state of being snubbed and put in his place ; a 
 condition of things which did not agree with that young 
 gentleman at all. 
 
 The month of February waned, the Ides of March drew on. 
 Sir Tommy and Jack, at a long and earnest consultation, held 
 in Travers 's room, and by the aid of that estimable person's 
 cigars and whisky, had come to the conclusion that although 
 the house was dull, still that (having nowhere better to go) 
 they would stay on, and see the season out. 
 
 The Hunt steeplechases were fixed for the end of March, and 
 Ronald was reserving Marmion for the principal event. It 
 was not a question of getting the horse fit — he was ready to 
 run for a man's life — but of keeping him so, and not overdoing 
 
2o6 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 him with long, tiring work after hounds. The chestnut was, 
 therefore, only treated to short days, and not chanced at 
 awkw^ard places out hunting. Eonald had set his heart on 
 winning with him, and, ' har accident,' was feeling very 
 confident indeed. 
 
 In a moment of w^eakness, Travers, being rather thereunto 
 urged by his inamorata, had intimated his intention of dis- 
 porting himself in the saddle at the steeplechases. So confi- 
 dent was he in the wonderful steadiness of the Roman-nosed 
 old brown, that he argued to himself he absolutely could not 
 get a fall ; the old chap didn't seem to know how to make a 
 mistake. Of course, his only chance to win would be that all 
 the rest fell down, but that matter didn't concern our hero in 
 the least degree ; he only wanted the opportunity of showing 
 himself in gala attire, and the glory of being ' one of the 
 riders.' The fact that his horse couldn't really go fast enough 
 to keep himself warm was entirely foreign to the subject, from 
 his point of view. Safety and glory must walk hand-in-hand, 
 otherwise glory would go out in the betting to a thousand to 
 six and no takers ! 
 
 Slowly, but none the less surely, was the fascinating Adela 
 creeping into the affections of the Duke of Haughtyshire, 
 to the exclusion of all the other * female forms divine,' 
 which were wont, of yore, to flit before the Ducal mind's 
 eye. In short, the noble M. F. H. had almost determined 
 that if he could but manage to pluck up courage enough to 
 ask his son's consent, he would take the plunge and bring 
 home a fresh Duchess to the Castle. But Gravity — yes, 
 Gravity was what is vulgarly called a ' sticker.' His Grace 
 really began to show signs of being genuinely 'caught,' and 
 
In the Duke's Sanctum, 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 207 
 
 incontinently ceased from whistling that naughty little song 
 he had heard at the Folies-Bergere when he was last in the 
 gay capital, and substituted for it snatches of Mendelssohn's 
 'Wedding March.' Gravity noted all these signs, but with- 
 out manifesting such marks of disapproval as might have 
 been reasonably expected. 
 
 One day the Duke ventured — rather by way of a ' feeler ' 
 — to say to his son and heir — 
 
 "My dear boy, I rather wonder you don't entertain some 
 idea of — of — " (he was about to say " settling down," but 
 checked himself abruptly, and with a suppressed laugh, as he 
 thought of the absolute impossibility of Gravity's ever being 
 anything hut 'settled down') "of marrying. I often feel 
 rather surprised that instead of cultivating the acquaintance 
 of some nice young girl of a suitable age for you, you slwuld 
 always seek the society, by preference, of that excellent, but 
 
 fat and elderly person, Mrs. Joggletilt. Now I " but here 
 
 Gravity coughed uneasily and broke in with — 
 
 " I don't care for young girls, my dear father. And Mrs. 
 Joggletilt I really find a most companionable woman, and a 
 gentle soul. She takes more interest in my mode of life than 
 young girls could possibly be expected to do, and I find in her 
 a most sympathetic friend." 
 
 The Duke's effort had failed again. There was no moving 
 Gravity ; he was so unlike most young men in his rank of 
 life. 
 
 "When I was his age," murmured the Duke, closing his 
 eyes rapturously and dropping his glass out — " By Jove! when 
 I was his age ! " and such beatific visions crossed the speaker's 
 mind that the supply of iDlain prosaic language incontinently 
 
2o8 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 failed him. He had ' gone the pace ' in his youth, and few 
 men hving could give him points on the subject of racing, 
 hunting, and his excellent taste in the due appreciation of 
 the fairer part of creation. But, like the eminently sensible 
 man he was, he had always used a nice discretion in all 
 such matters, and so got as near the maximum of enjoy- 
 ment, coupled with the minimum of harm, either to himself 
 or others, as is, perhaps, humanly possible to poor weak, 
 erring mortals. What he honestly could not understand, was 
 how Gravity, his son, bone of his bone and flesh of his flesh, 
 could possibly go on as he did, from year to year, ' existing 
 like a cabbage,' as the Duke called it, and really seeming to 
 like the process. How would he, his father, ever feel able to 
 break the news to this grave and icy young man, that it was 
 positively in contemplation to present him with a new, young, 
 and pretty mamma ? The Duke absolutely shuddered as he 
 thought of it. 
 
 " He's a dear boy," said he to himself, thoughtfully 
 adjusting his glass in his eye, and looking fixedly at his son. 
 "A dear boy, but damme! 3'ou might shut him up in a 
 harem, and he'd calmly sit down and read Horace to the 
 inmates ! ! " 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE RACE FOR THE DUKE's CUP. 
 
 On the eventful day of the Hunt Steeplechases, it seemed 
 as though the whole countryside had gone mad. Billy 
 Hooligan, the drunken ostler at the ' Duke of Haughtyshire's 
 Arms,' struck work and said that he didn't care a naughty 
 word what happened, but he'd be past participled if he'd miss 
 one of the races. Jim Biggins, the one and only railway- 
 station porter at Mudbury, swore that the passengers might 
 get their luggage out themselves, as, come what might, he 
 meant to be on the course and back his fancy ; and even 
 steady, jog-trot old Jorker, the farmer, said he was going to 
 take a day off, and drive ' the missus ' over in his cart. 
 And these were but fair samples of the population at large, 
 within the limits of the Duke's hunt. One and all, rich and 
 poor, high and low, peer and peasant, joined in the cry, ' To 
 the Course ! ' 
 
 The day was gloriously fine, and from a comparatively 
 early hour a steady stream of people toiled up the side 
 of the race-hill, on which an extemporised and roofless Grand 
 Stand had been erected. A fenced-in space adjoining this, 
 with a long, low shed, served as a saddling paddock, whilst on 
 the opposite side of the course, another portion of the field was 
 railed off as a reserved enclosure for carriages. One of the 
 
 H.H. P 
 
210 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 first vehicles to arrive here was that conveying The Chase 
 party ; it was followed, at a brief interval, by the Catchem 
 Court carriage. Miss Lucretia desiring to keep a strict eye 
 on Travers's movements. Somehow or other, Lucretia had 
 always entertained a vague sense of mistrust ever since 
 that first sign of ' jibbing ' exhibited by her swain (' swine,' 
 Jack called him), and liked to keep him well up to the 
 mark by being constantly at his side. She had made him 
 a silk racing-jacket — green, a most appropriate colour, with 
 big yellow spots on it, the size of an archery target — and 
 this article, together with a silk jockey-cap, considerably too 
 small for his fat — or more politel}' speaking, massive — head, 
 reposed at that moment, in a brown leather kit-bag, at the 
 bottom of the Binkie carriage. 
 
 Eonald, knowing perfectly well what was Travers's object 
 in riding, had tried to persuade him to run his old horse 
 in one of the smaller races ; but with the persistence of a 
 weak man, Mr. Binkie was deaf to all arguments and insisted 
 upon entering the field for the big event of the day, the 
 Duke of Haughtyshire's Cup, a prize presented each year by 
 His Grace, who did this, as he did all things, well. The 
 cup was something worth winning, and very difterent to the 
 ' nominal value ' silver-gilt atrocities so unblushingl}^ offered 
 at some meetings we wot of now. On this occasion, it took 
 the form of a two-handled loving-cup, with wreaths of roses 
 embossed on it, and a space, cunningly left by the silver- 
 smith's art, for the name of the winning horse and owner to 
 be engraved thereon. It was exhibited on its ebony pedestal 
 in the front of the Grand Stand, and formed the cynosure 
 of all eyes. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUXT. 211 
 
 " I say," bleated Binkie, as he looked down the list of 
 competitors' names on the card, " I don't think I shall win 
 that cup, do you?" and he winked vacuously at Konald, as 
 if he thought he had said something funny. 
 
 "No; but 'you never know your luck.' Perhaps it'll 
 come into the family in some other way," was the meaning 
 answer. 
 
 Ten minutes before the first race was timed to start, th& 
 Duke drove across the course, and into the reserved enclosure, 
 with a splendid team of browns. His Grace was an accom- 
 plished whip, and never appeared to better advantage than 
 when driving a coach. Pulling up in a capital position,, 
 he lightly swung the thong of his whip round the stock 
 in proper workman-like fashion, unbuckled his reins, and 
 dropped them on to the wheelers' backs. Then he leisurely 
 descended from the box seat and, after lighting a cigar, strolled 
 across to the saddling paddock. 
 
 The Binkies had a luncheon-table behind their carriage,. 
 and this was being rapidly laid out with all kinds of dainties 
 by the magnificent Mortimer and a small army of attendant 
 satellites. Luncheon was not to be served until the first race 
 was over, when both Ronald and his friend Prince Baboojee 
 were to join them. Adela Comely, too, had promised Penelope 
 to come, parti}', it must be admitted, at Ronald's earnest 
 instigation ; he wanted to make things as pleasant as possible 
 for the Binkies, in his own interests, and knew that Adela. 
 would be a safe ' draw ' for the Duke. 
 
 The numbers went up for the first race, the Farmers' Plate, 
 three miles, open to all horses belonging to those farming or 
 owning not less than 100 acres within the country hunted 
 
 p2 
 
212 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 over by the Haughty shire Hounds, no restriction as to 
 riders. In this, Ronald was to ride No. 5, Mr. Oakfield's 
 Chaplet, a great, raking, sixteen-hands mare, with an ugly 
 fiddle-head, redeemed by a pair of the finest galloping and 
 jumping shoulders in the world. There were seven starters 
 in all; they cantered down, jumped the preliminary hurdles, 
 pulled up, walked a little way back to where an important- 
 looking functionary armed with a red flag awaited them ; the 
 flag fell, the bell rang, and they were off. 
 
 They passed the Stand and carriage enclosure in a cluster, 
 hut once over the first fence, Eonald sent his game, good- 
 staying mare to the front, and for the next mile and a half 
 held a strong lead, his mount fencing perfectly at everything. 
 Then she began to come back to her horses, or more correctly 
 speaking, they began to close in on her. She kept doggedly 
 on, however, and it was only in the last half-mile that the 
 spectators could see that, though she was a rare good 'un at 
 the fences, she took a bit too long between them ; and Thady 
 O'Flynn, Cretan, and Burslem all raced past her into the 
 straight, finishing in the order named. There was a great 
 deal of public jubilation, for the winner was bred, owned, and 
 ridden by a very popular young sporting farmer, and much 
 good ale and other liquid refreshment was consumed on the 
 strength of the victory. Eonald just slipped his feet into 
 his over-shoes, a coat over his silken garb, and putting his 
 whip in his pocket, trotted across to the Binkies' luncheon- 
 table, where he found the few invited guests already preparing 
 to ' do themselves well ' over what looked like a very stiff 
 tiffin course. 
 
 Amid the popping of champagne corks and the merry 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 213 
 
 laughter of those assembled on all sides of them, the luncheon 
 proceeded gaily. Ronald, presiding at the cold chicken, 
 thought he had never seen a prettier couple of girls than 
 those standing opposite him, Adela and Penelope, his former 
 and his present love. Which was the more beautiful of the 
 two he wondered, feeling that he could thoroughly sympa- 
 thise with the late Paris in his most embarrassing situation 
 when called upon, somewhat unfairly, to award the Ribston. 
 But these thoughts were quickly driven away by the incessant 
 demand for chicken, which he was called upon to supply. 
 Half-AiVay through luncheon Mrs. Binkie's cup of happiness 
 was indeed full, for no less a personage than the Duke himself 
 sauntered by (wondering where the deuce Adela could have 
 hidden herself), and catching sight of his fair one, raised his 
 hat, and at once came up to speak with Mrs. Binkie. Sep, 
 finding the honour quite too much for him, ignobly dodged 
 round the other side of the carriage, on pretence of going for 
 more champagne. 
 
 "Ah, my dear Mrs. Binkie," exclaimed His Grace, in those 
 light and airy tones which always gave the idea that the 
 speaker was delighted to have found the person he was. 
 addressing, "Ah, my dear Mrs. Binkie, charmed to see you 
 are patronising our local meeting. How do, Dennison '? How 
 
 do, Mistah — ah — ah " and here he came to a full stop, as 
 
 he failed to remember the face of the fat young gentleman 
 staring at him from beneath the peak of a green silk racing 
 cap, and holding on his fork, suspended in the air, an immense 
 chunk of pigeon-pie. 
 
 " My son, Your Grace, Travers Binkie," put in Madam. 
 "My son, that's just left Oxford," she said, with a touch of 
 
214 THE HAUGHTYSHIKE HUNT. 
 
 pride in her voice. She considered that ' Oxford ' must leave 
 its impression even on a Duke. 
 
 "Oh, ah, yes. How do, Mr. Binkie? No, thank you very 
 much, my dear lady, I won't take anything now. In fact, I 
 am just going back to have luncheon. My dear Miss Comely, 
 so glad to see you. I hope you'll allow me to fetch you to the 
 coach for the principal race '? that is, if your charming hostess 
 will spare you? " and he turned such a fascinating smile upon 
 Mrs. Binkie that that lady would have been prepared to go to 
 the stake cheerfully, in the Ducal cause, had necessity called 
 at that moment. The great man raised his hat, dropped his 
 eyeglass, and passed on, and at the same time Travers gave up 
 the hopeless struggle he had been engaged in with the pigeon- 
 pie. For the fact was that, as the time for his race drew near, 
 Mr. Travers Algernon Binkie began to experience a certain 
 twittering of the heart, dryness of the lips, and the same 
 disinclination for food that many of us feel when tossing on 
 the troubled waters of the ocean. He began to doubt whether 
 liis horse was quite the certainty at his fences he had always 
 thought ; he began to doubt whether, after all, steeplechasing 
 wasn't rather a reckless and foolish thing. In short, if it 
 had not been for the fact that Miss Lucretia Lumpkin stood 
 at his side, putting away prodigious chunks of pie and large 
 quantities of salad, and ever and anon gazing into his boiled- 
 codlish-like optics, Mr. Binkie would have run away ! 
 
 Jack Dashwood and Sir Tommy were both going to ride, 
 the former, one belonging to a dealer who had managed to 
 ' qualify ' him in that country, but which proud animal was 
 really an old steeplechase horse with his name conveniently 
 forgotten ; and the Baronet, a brute owned by a farmer in 
 
■ "'"'''^r^^ltS^';" "s: '."-S > *• ■ 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 the neighbourhood. The hitter animal had no chance at all, 
 but Jack's mount was a better class horse than most of the 
 starters, and although now getting into the 'sere and yellow,' 
 was certainly to be labelled ' dangerous ' in this field. His 
 worthy owner, after a careful review of the rest of the com- 
 23etitors, and then a last glance at his own ' blood 'un,' muttered, 
 "He can do this lot," and hurried away into the ring to back 
 Sheldrake (as he was now called) for all he could get on. It 
 wasn't much : the few ' bookies ' on the course had come 
 more prepared to do business with the yokel population, 
 whose idea of ' dashing it down ' only ran to taking ' a 
 sovereign to a crown ' or ' ten bob to a shillun' ' about a 
 rank outsider. Still, the dealer managed to invest some 
 twenty to twenty-five pounds, by dint of much industry and 
 expenditure of shoe-leather, before the fourteen competitors 
 slowly filed out of the saddling paddock. 
 
 Between the card and the number board, the following 
 information might be gleaned as to the starters for the Duke 
 of Haughtyshire's Cup — 
 
 1 Sir Charles Payne's Vivandiere Mr. Lawson. 
 
 2 Mr. Barrett's Jackdaw Owner. 
 
 3 Mr. Travers Binkie's Roman Owner. 
 
 4 Mr. Norris's Erin's Pride Sir T. Fitzsquander. 
 
 5 Mr. Mangold's Mimosa Owner. 
 
 6 Mr. Ronald Dennison's Marmion Owner. 
 
 7 Mr. Baxter's Thrush Mr. Lowe. 
 
 8 Mr. Henry's Jill Owner. 
 
 9 Lord Sandon's Dorothy Mr. Lambton. 
 
 10 Mr. Gatwick's Sheldrake Mr. Dashwood. 
 
 11 Mr. Brown's Cherry Ripe Owner. 
 
 12 Mr. Herbert's Francis I Mr. Oliver. 
 
 13 Mr. Ernest Shackle's The Monk Owner. 
 
 14 Mr. Skinner's Fanatic Mr. Jackson. 
 
 Penelope managed to get just a moment in which to say a 
 word, privately, to Eonald. 
 
2i6 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 " Oh, Eonny, do be careful, for my sake, dear, won't you? 
 I think I should die if anything dreadful happened to you. 
 And if you could look after him " (indicating the now palpably 
 quaking ' Trousers ' by a slight nod of her pretty head), " I'm 
 sure you will, won't you ? he is such an ass ! " she added, with 
 a ring of real pathos in her voice. 
 
 " All right, dearest. I don't think Travers's old horse 
 knows how to fall; his only danger is in getting knocked over, 
 but I think I know of a little scheme to prevent even that. 
 Good-bye; wish me luck ! " and he turned away and crossed 
 the course, disappearing through the paddock gate, whilst the 
 girl heaved a sigh and mentally resolved to put a stop to 
 Master Eonny's steeplechase riding, when 
 
 Eonald, giving a passing word to his groom, walked into the 
 weighing shed, slipped off his coat and went to scale, taking 
 the saddle from his man and dropping it on to his knees. The 
 next to appear there was our friend Travers, now positively 
 perspiring with fear. Instead of putting the cap over his ears, 
 he had allowed those peculiarly prominent features to stick out 
 in their usual fashion ; his racing Jacket was left loose, outside 
 his breeches, looking like a very much shortened ballet dancer's 
 skirt, and he had forgotten that riders weighed with their 
 saddles, and had to send off for his, in hot haste. When it 
 arrived, he put it on the scale and then tried to sit on it. 
 
 " No, no, sir ! " exclaimed the Clerk of the Scales, " sit 
 down yourself, and then take your saddle on to your knees ; 
 no, drop your whip, you don't weigh with that, you know. 
 There, that's it. Twelve stone seven — right. Come on, sir, 
 come on ! " he added sharply, seeing that Binkie sat there 
 staring, and without making any attempt to move. " I've got 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 217 
 
 eight other riders to weigh, and time's nearly up ah-eady, as 
 it is ! " 
 
 " Oh, really ! " began Binkie, when Ronald took him under 
 the arm and hoisted him up bodily. 
 
 TRAVERS WEIGHS OUT. 
 
 " Oh, I say, you know, what ought I to do, you know, when 
 you start ? Won't there be rather a crowd, eh ? " 
 
 " Now, look here, I'll tell you what to do. When we get to 
 the starting-post, you get right behind the rest, and keej) there, 
 
2i8 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 down to the first fence. Then you won't get in anybody's 
 way, and you won't get knocked over." 
 
 " Oh, really ! but do you think there's any fear of getting — 
 getting knocked over ? It seems rather dangerous, you know, 
 don't it?" 
 
 Ronald laughed drily. 
 
 " Steeplechase riding is not supposed to be the sport for 
 infants and invalids, Binkie. But if you'll take my advice, I 
 think you won't come to any harm." 
 
 Ronald walked away to the far side of the paddock, got a leg 
 up on to Marmion — who looked quite the gentleman of the 
 party, his chestnut coat shining like burnished copper — and 
 walked him quietly over to the Stand side. Here he waited for 
 the rest, just keeping his horse gently on the move. Binkie 
 soon joined him, and a few minutes later the whole of the 
 fourteen candidates were slowly filing out of the gate. 
 
 Lucretia put up her lorgnettes, and gazed long and fixedly 
 at her future lord. With his cap tilted up on the crown of 
 his head, his fat little round legs, and a considerable portion 
 of his anatomy very insufficiently accommodated on the small 
 seven-pound saddle, Binkie presented a somewhat curious 
 spectacle. 
 
 The lady, after running him over from top to toe, dropped 
 her glasses, and, turning with a severe, if not disdainful air 
 to Mrs. Binkie, said — 
 
 " I don't think Travers is adapted for steeplechase riding ; 
 the — er — er — the dress, is both unbecoming and insufficient. 
 Why don't they wear tail coats '? " 
 
 " Yes," answered Mrs. Binkie uncompromisingly, " the 
 joint's too big for the dish, ain't it ? " 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 219 
 
 Miss Lumpkin looked outraged, and muttered behind her 
 race-card something about "vulgar old women," and just 
 then the competitors turned to canter up, and jump the 
 preliminary hurdles. 
 
 Ronald, finding that Marmion was rapidly getting excited, 
 and in two minds whether to try a bolt or to savage the 
 horse next to him, gave him his head and let him stride along 
 quickly at the hurdles, over which he led the way with a 
 jump which would have cleared a navigable river. Then 
 away he went, as hard as he could lay legs to the ground, 
 and for half a minute Ronald thought that the impetuous son 
 of Capulet had got away with him in earnest. However, 
 Ronny's frame and arms were muscled in a way calculated 
 to stop any animal who possessed a mouth at all, and 
 Marmion, bolter though he was, had a mouth — the only thing 
 really wrong about him was that he became quite beside 
 himself with excitement; so at the end of this impromptu 
 gallop the good chestnut submitted to be stopped and slowly 
 ridden down to the starting-post, sweating and lathering, and 
 altogether looking rather as if he had been dragged through 
 a pond. The gallop, however, had steadied him down a bit, 
 and although he still yawed his head about, and took sundry 
 snatches at the bridle, he was under complete control by the 
 time the advance flag was hoisted. 
 
 The course was a very sporting one. Starting in the 
 straight run-in, nearly opposite the enclosure and Stand, a 
 gentle ascent of about two hundred yards led into a succession 
 of small grass enclosures, pretty stiffly fenced by nature. At 
 the end of these, and just as the course began to turn, left- 
 handed, down the hill, came a somewhat formidable obstacle 
 
220 THE HAUGHTYSHIKE HUNT. 
 
 composed of posts and rails, topped with gorse. This was 
 succeeded by a long field of pasture, sloping down hill all 
 the way to that abominable trap for the unwary, a ' regula- 
 tion ' ditch, a six-foot wide, clean cut, saw-pit looking grave, 
 with a foot high rail on the take-off side, backed by 
 an eighteen-inch thick, stiffly made up fence. From this 
 point it was again all down hill to the brook, a fairly good 
 sized running stream, with a low bushed-up fence in front of 
 it. Turning again sharply left-handed, after the brook was 
 crossed, the track led along the bottoms, always somewhat 
 deep and holding, across three other fences, all fairly easy, 
 and then commenced the journey for home. Half a mile 
 before the goal was reached, the sinuous windings of the brook 
 again necessitated a water- jump — this time without any fence 
 on the take-off side ; two artificial fences came next, and then 
 another of the ' regulation ' ditches. From this point there 
 was a steady climb, barred only by two gorsed-up fences, 
 before the winning-post was reached. Taken on the whole, 
 it was a fairly severe line of country, quite big enough to test 
 the jumping and galloping powers of the best hunter that ever 
 ran. The distance for the Duke's Cup was about three miles 
 and a half. And now, although the ' pencillers ' had not 
 mustered in any great numerical force, they managed to create 
 a stupendous amount of noise, just in the last few moments 
 before the start for the principal event. The ex-racehorse, 
 Sheldrake, was a strong favourite, in consequence, chiefly, of his 
 worthy owner's investments in the ring ; and at the finish, 
 nothing more than even money could be had about his chance, 
 and not always that. Marmion was next in demand, but the 
 healthy odds of five and six to one could always have been 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 221 
 
 had about him. Amid the clamorous cries of " The field a 
 pony, a pony on the fee-aid!" "Here, six to one bar one, 
 six to one bar one, six to one bar-r-r one ! " " Eights Dorothy, 
 ten to one the Roman ! " ( Binkie's horse, and so called on 
 account of the animal's classic proboscis) "Even money 
 Sheldrake," to be quickly succeeded by an offer of " I'll take 
 odds ! " the advance flag was suddenly dropped, the bell 
 clanged out, and the whole multitude assembled seemed, at 
 one and the same moment, to shout, " They're off! " 
 
 With a whirr and rush that makes the head swim for a 
 moment, thirteen of the horses jump off in a confused cluster, 
 crossing and jostling each other in an excitement to which 
 most of them are quite unused. But whether horses are 
 racing for the first time, or have grown old and cunning at 
 the game, it seems to make little difference. They all appear 
 to know of the struggle that is in store for them — almost of 
 the dangers they will have to confront. 
 
 Perhaps, of this particular field of horses. Jack Dash wood 
 was on the best, and Eonald Dennison on the worst behaved — 
 to the former assertion we certainly make exception in favour 
 of Mr. Travers Binkie's staid old Roman-nosed one, who got 
 off well behind all the rest — to which position his owner's 
 method of riding to hounds had, by this time, well accustomed 
 him — and even then he discreetly forbore to hurry himself. 
 Marmion had been dancing on his toes when the flag fell, and 
 in the next moment would assuredly have whipped round and 
 turned his tail where his head ought to be. Luckily, however, 
 the signal was given just at the right time for him, and away 
 he went like a shot out of a gun. 
 
 It was Ronald's purpose to let the horse go along in 
 
222 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 front at first. It is always poor policy to let an impetuous 
 horse exhaust his strength in fighting his jockey, when he 
 might, perhaps, quiet down if allowed to go to the head of 
 afiairs. Dennison, too, was an admirable judge of pace, 
 and knew just what to do with his horse. Dropping his 
 hands low, he let him stride along up the gentle rise to the 
 first fence, just before reaching which he glanced quickly 
 over his shoulder to see where the rest of the field were. 
 Then, speaking gently to the fretting, hard-pulling horse, he 
 went at the obstacle and cleared it, but not in the collected 
 way his backers would have liked to see, as the horse landed 
 stiff-legged, after what looked more a like ' buck over ' than 
 a plain leap. 
 
 Eonald patted his neck, and again spoke to him, rather as 
 if he really liked this awkward and highly dangerous way of 
 negotiating a country, than otherwise ; and to these quiet 
 endearments the gallant chestnut presently paid heed. He 
 ceased pulling at his rider, got his head comfortably down 
 into its natural place, and hearing the thunder of the hoofs 
 now close behind him, evidently made up his mind not to 
 be caught if he could help it. Over the next four fences 
 he held a lead of some half-dozen lengths, Jackdaw, 
 Francis I., Jill, and The Monk following in a cluster, and 
 taking their fences almost side by side, next ; then came Jack 
 Dashwood on Sheldrake, going pleasantly and evidently 
 hardly out of a hand-gallop, followed at a couple of lengths' 
 distance by Fanatic, Mimosa, and Dorothy ; the rest, thus 
 early in the race, beginning to tail off\ 
 
 As soon as Travers had recovered from his surprise at 
 seeing all the horses sprint off when the flag fell, he 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 223 
 
 exclaimed, "Oh, really!" and at once proceeded to canter 
 leisurely along to the first fence. Just as he jumped this, 
 with a great deal of daylight showing between himself 
 and the saddle, the majority of the field were crossing 
 the second obstacle. If he had been on a Liverpool winner 
 he would have been rather put to it to catch them up, 
 after losing so much ground, and in justice to poor Travers, 
 it must be admitted that he was not the only amateur who 
 has been ' slipped.' 
 
 The writer still holds a painful remembrance of an occasion 
 when he was riding one of his first races, and his mount was 
 a ' certaint3\' He felt too lordly to jump off with the rest, and 
 therefore let them get well away before thinking it necessary 
 to start ; and then— then they were not to be caught quite so 
 easily as he had reckoned on ! Knowing that the animal's 
 owner had the water-rates, and the family plate, and a few 
 other trifles on his horse, he admits that the next few 
 moments were rather unnerving. To be quite truthful, the 
 perspiration poured oft" his august brow like water, with sheer 
 horror ! He sat down and rode like a demon, but only just 
 got up in the last stride and won by a head. A subsequent 
 
 interview with the owner was well, the proceedings neither 
 
 opened nor closed with prayer ! But to return. 
 
 Binkie made no attempt to catch his horses — which 
 attempt, even if made, would have been absolutel}' useless — • 
 but still cantered on, the green jacket and yellow spots 
 blobbing up and down, half a mile behind the rest. He just 
 managed to keep his seat over the fences by means of a hand 
 surreptitiously placed on the fore part of his saddle, until the 
 post and rails were reached. 
 
224 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 " Oh, really ! " squeaked Travers, his eyes starting out of 
 his head with horror. " Oh, dear no, not if I know it ! And 
 did they really jump this beastly thing, I wonder? How 
 silly of them. I shall go round." And still sailing along at 
 an easy canter, he avoided the fences, and cut across to the 
 brook, where his adventurous career was effectually stayed — 
 there was no way round that — and amid the jeers of the 
 crowd standing at each side of it, he turned and walked his 
 horse back to the Stand again. 
 
 Meanwhile, Ronald still held pride of place, his horse 
 striding out and jumping beautifully. Having been allowed 
 his own way in making running, he had not attempted his 
 favourite trick of bolting, and was now giving his owner a 
 comparatively pleasant ride. Over the posts and rails he led 
 by at least a dozen lengths, and had no sooner landed than 
 he was away again as quick as a rabbit, thus still further 
 increasing his advantage. Jack Dashwood began to try the 
 experiment of thinking two things at once — the first, that 
 Ronald might possibly slip the lot of them if they didn't look 
 out ; the second, that Marmion really must come back to his 
 horses before long — and he found himself rather in the 
 position of the gay young skater who tries to pass an advancing 
 figure on both sides at once. He didn't quite know whether 
 to go on after his leader, or to wait hoping he would soon have 
 enough of it. Finally he came to the conclusion that he 
 would go past Jackdaw, Francis I., and Jill — The Monk had 
 refused at the posts and rails — and thus get more within hail 
 of the chestnut ; this he did, and had managed to decrease 
 Ronald's lead to about eight lengths, just as he sawMarmion's 
 tail swish over the fence beyond the regulation ditch. The 
 
> 
 
 » 
 
 I 
 
r 
 
 Marmion leads at the Brook, 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 225 
 
 pace had now become a veritable 'cracker,' and the cocktail 
 contingent were dropping rapidly astern. 
 
 Down the hill towards the brook, Ronald took another look 
 round to see who was nearest him. Truth to tell, Dennison 
 was not quite confident in his own mind about how his horse 
 would tackle the water. It was not so much the obstacle 
 itself, as the noisy crowd around it, that he feared Marmion 
 might not like ; and if he made any mistake at it, his rider 
 had a natural and not ill-founded objection to being jumped 
 on by the man behind him. He was somewhat reassured 
 when he found that it was Jack Dashwood — who he knew 
 to be a really good horseman. 
 
 "Look out for yourself, here, Dashwood!" he called out 
 over his shoulder, and shouting in order to drown the noise 
 of the thunder of the hoofs, and cries of the excited spectators. 
 " I may come down at this ! " 
 
 " Hope you will ! " muttered Jack to himself, taking a 
 judicious pull at his horse. " Believe I can do the rest of 'em, 
 but I don't like the look of you ! " Directly Marmion catches 
 sight of the gleaming water of the brook, and has his ears 
 saluted by the deafening shouts of the crowd, he begins to ' go 
 in the breeching,' screwing himself spirally, and, vulgarly 
 speaking, trying to 'cut it.' Ronny sits still as a mouse, 
 not moving hand or foot ; then, just as they race down 
 between the two living lines of shrieking humanity, the wicked 
 impulse seems to pass from the horse ; he catches hold of his 
 bit again and, springing into the air, clears the obstacle in 
 magnificent fashion, amid a chorus of ringing cheers. 
 
 Ronny flushes a deep red of gratified pleasure, as he stoops 
 forward and pats the now foam-flecked neck. Jack follows 
 
 H.H. Q 
 
226 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 over in safety ; then Francis I. just in front of Jill and Jack- 
 daw side by side, with Dorothy next ; Mimosa jumps short, 
 comes an awful ' purler,' and is almost rolled upon whilst in 
 the brook by The Monk, who has been got over the fence he 
 refused, and the subsequent ones up to this point, by his 
 plucky owner ; nothing else is within a hundred yards, except 
 an old black hunter, whose rider is mercilessly chaffed by the 
 crowd, as he lobs over the water. 
 
 "Yah! you should a-started him over-night! Go on 
 guv'nor ! you'll win yet, if all the rest of 'em falls down ! " 
 "Looks lonely without the shafts, don't 'e. Bill?" and so on. 
 
 Eonald's primrose jacket and violet sleeves can be plainly 
 seen from the Stand, still leading the way, Jack's chocolate 
 and blue lying handy, about three lengths off. Then, at a 
 somewhat longer interval, come Jill and Dorothy, Jackdaw 
 and Francis I., the last-named, however, beginning to hold 
 out signals of distress, his rider's arms going like the sails of a 
 windmill. The horse drops farther and farther astern, and 
 at the succeeding open ditch he comes down, rolling over his 
 jockey in what looks to be a very uncomfortable way. There 
 is the usual rush of people to the spot ; a mounted policeman 
 gallops up, and seeing the rider lying quite still and evidently 
 senseless, on the ground, waves his handkerchief as a signal 
 for the ambulance to come from the Stand. 
 
 And now the survivors of the struggle begin to close up, 
 as they turn for home. Dorothy, hard driven, passes the 
 pair she has been in company with throughout, and gains 
 rapidly on Sheldrake, joining him at the foot of the hill ; 
 these two, together with Jill, then gradually, but surely, close 
 up with Marmion. The latter still leads, but Sheldrake's 
 
I 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 227 
 
 head is at his girths now, and Jack and Eonald are 
 watching each other Hke cats after mice. Jumping the third 
 fence from home, the proverbial ' sheet ' would have covered 
 Marmion, Sheldrake, Jill, Dorothy, and Jackdaw ; the live 
 race closely together to the next obstacle, over which Sheldrake 
 leads, Marmion landing but a bare half-length behind him, 
 and almost simultaneously with Dorothy ; but the last couple, 
 hugging each other a bit too closely, both come down, the 
 mare falling first, and Jackdaw landing on top of her, a 
 great shout going up from the Stand, to announce what has 
 happened ; then ensues the final set-to, as the three survivors 
 sweep along towards the last fence, each rider putting as much 
 jjressure on as he dares. Dorothy's rider is the first to pick 
 up his whip, and for a brief moment it suffices to keep her 
 in her place alongside the other two. Only for a moment, 
 however, and then she drops out of it, a beaten horse. 
 
 " Sheldrake wins ! " " Marmion, Marmion ! " "The chest- 
 nut does it ! " "The bay wins ! " A very Babel of shouts salutes 
 the ears of the two riders as they come, almost abreast, at the 
 last fence. Eonny begins to feel that the ex-flatracer has the 
 foot of him — and a very bitter feeling it is, so greatly has he set 
 his heart upon winning this race — then, as he sees Jack, with 
 the triumph dawning in his face, take a slight steadier at 
 his horse, he mutters to himself, " I'll chance it ! " and rides 
 the gallant chestnut home as though the final fence was not 
 there at all. 
 
 A dangerous experiment, Eonald Dennison, a dangerous 
 experiment — and more than one human life has been sacri- 
 ficed in trying it — but it answers all right to-day. Sheldrake 
 jumps at the same moment that, with his head loose, and 
 
 q2 
 
228 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 urged on b}' voice, hand, and heel, Marmion dashes partly 
 over and partly through the obstacle, gammg a clear half- 
 length by the expedient. 
 
 " The chestnut wins, the chestnut for a pony ! " " Marmion 
 walks in ! ! " roars the excited crowd, as the two gallant 
 horses again close in a desperate struggle for victory. For 
 a brief moment the issue is in doubt. But that last 
 risky move of Eonald's has settled the question ; the half- 
 length lost by Sheldrake can never be quite regained, and 
 Marmion passes the post amid the deafening shouts of the 
 crowd, a winner by a neck, the dealer's horse just failing in 
 his effort to 'get up.' The scene of enthusiasm is inde- 
 scribable, for added to the hearty acclamations of all Eonald's 
 friends — and they are legion — are the delighted shouts of the 
 bookmakers at the defeat of the ' readied ' candidate ; and 
 amidst a sea of radiant faces, Eonald rides his gallant chest- 
 nut quietly back through the excited throng, and into the 
 saddling paddock. 
 
I 
 
b« 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 AT CUPID S SHKINE. 
 
 " Well," exclaimed the Duke to Miss Comely, seated 
 beside liim on the box of his coach, " I never wish to see 
 a better finish for a race than that — nor better riding either," 
 he added. " They say ' the end justifies the means,' but 
 certainly the way Eonald chanced that last fence was a 
 sight calculated to make one's hair stand on end. It won 
 him his race, though." 
 
 Adela was a little pale. Although no longer in that state 
 which we describe as being ' in love ' with Eonald, she 
 was yet very fond of him as a friend, and his reckless act 
 had given her a bad fright. However, the danger was over 
 now, and all was well. The colour began to return to her 
 cheeks, and she was able, in answer to the Duke, to make 
 some light reply. 
 
 " You permit me to light a cigar, my dear Miss Comely? 
 Thanks. Ah, I really must be getting an old man now ; it 
 is — er — ah — 'm — well, a very long time ago now, since I 
 rode my last steeplechase. I remember it, though, as if it 
 were yesterday. It was in the Yale of Aylesbury, and I won 
 on Mameluke. Jolly days those were, to be sure, and the 
 
 fun we used to have after the dinner at the Ah, well, 
 
 never mind, I won't bore you with ' man ' stories." 
 
230 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 " But I should not be bored. On the contrary, I should 
 be immensely interested. Do tell me," said Adela coaxingly. 
 
 " Well, it was merely this. Meredith, a man I knew in 
 the Guards, had a horse which he greatly fancied both as 
 a jumper and galloper. He had entered him for the big 
 steeplechase at Aylesbury, and backed him for a great deal 
 more than he could afford to lose. After a rattling race, I 
 was lucky enough to win on Mameluke, a horse I had bought 
 two months beforehand. Poor Meredith was very hard hit, 
 losing about five thousand in all, but that night he was the 
 gayest of the gay. Only to me did he tell the depth of his 
 misfortune ; he would have to leave the Service, and intended 
 to enlist in a French chasseur regiment, then in North Africa. 
 We dined in the old Eochester Eoom of the White Hart, at 
 Aylesbury, and after dinner the fun grew fast and furious. 
 Jameson, the ' Leviathan ' bookmaker, was present with us, 
 and, having made a tremendous pile on the race that day, 
 was in very high spirits, and commenced some rather rough 
 badinage at the expense of Meredith and his defeated horse. 
 ' He can neither gallop or jump,' cried Jameson scoffingly. 
 ' Come, Jameson, that's too severe,' said Meredith, ' there is 
 no cleverer jumper in the world, however badly he failed to 
 gallop the course to-day.' ' Ha, ha ! ' laughed the bookmaker, 
 ' then jump him over this dining-table ! ' Meredith coolly 
 replied, ' Dare you bet in earnest against it '? ' Jameson at 
 once drew out his betting book, and said. ' To any amount 
 you choose to go.' Well, to cut the story short, the horse 
 was actually brought up the stairs into the room, a young- 
 fellow named Manning, a light weight and a perfect horse- 
 man, mounted liim bareback, and with only a halter on the 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 231 
 
 horse cleared the table easily.* The bookmaker had been 
 laying the contemptuous odds of fifty to one against the 
 possibility of the horse succeeding, and the money Meredith 
 won over it was sufficient to set him on his feet again, and 
 he continued in the Service until last year, when he retired as 
 a General and a K.C.B. That's the incident I was thinking 
 of when I spoke, Miss Comely. Er — by the way, have you 
 seen Gravity about anywhere?" 
 
 " Not lately, Duke," replied Adela, taking a comprehensive 
 look round. Adela felt that she had no use for Gravity at 
 that moment, and hoped he'd keep away. " He was feeding 
 Mrs. Joggletilt, in his Good Samaritan fashion, the last time 
 I saw him." 
 
 " Oh," said His Grace, evidently relieved at the absence of 
 his attentive son's supervision. "And now we'll settle our 
 commercial transactions. Let me see, you backed Marmion 
 with me for half-a-dozen pairs of gloves — six and a quarter ? 
 Before to-morrow night, I hope that my debt of honour will 
 have been discharged. And now, my dear Miss Comely, I 
 want to say something to you which I have been on the point 
 of saying " 
 
 " How do, Duke," called a voice from below. It was 
 that of Major Carrington, a member of the Haughty shire 
 Hunt. 
 
 " Ah, how-de-do, how-de-do — d — nyou! " {sottovoce) replied 
 the Duke, fixing his glass in his eye to stare at the new 
 comer. Then, letting the monocle fall again, he resumed — 
 
 * The main incident — the leap over the dining-table — took place in the 
 Rochester Room of the hotel mentioned in 1851, and Manning was the name 
 of the rider. 
 
232 THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 
 
 " a thing which I have heen on the point of saying for 
 
 a long time past." His Grace coughed, and Adela longed to 
 know whether she was looking at her best or not. 
 
 The Duke edged himself a little nearer on the box-seat to 
 Adela, and then resumed speaking — 
 
 " My son Gravity, who is the best, the very best of good 
 fellows, and of whom I am fonder than of anyone — that is, 
 of almost anyone, on earth, entertains curious ideas on the 
 .subject of marriage — er — that is, I should say, curious ideas 
 on the subject of »(?/ marriage, and — er — well, it has made my 
 
 path rather a thorny one, whenever — er — I mean " (He 
 
 was just slipping out " whenever I saw a pretty woman," 
 but fortunately checked himself in time.) "I should say, 
 that that consideration — er — Gravity's peculiar views on 
 marriage, you know— has hitherto acted as somewhat of a 
 hindrance to me in the choice of a second wife. But 
 dearly as I love him, I feel that if the matter were put 
 plainly before " 
 
 " That was a real rippin' race for the cup, wasn't it, Dook, 
 eh?" drawled the voice of Captain Flaubert Fitz-Ass, of 
 the Eoyal Fire Guards Blue, from the ground just below the 
 box-seat. 
 
 "It was, it was — er — d — n you!" {sotto voce). " I never 
 saw a greater ass — a greater race, I mean." 
 
 "Yes, and the way they came over that last fence, too; 
 well, I felt all over like " 
 
 " Ah, you want a glass of champagne, I'm sure," inter- 
 rupted His Grace hastily. "Now do go round to the table, 
 just at the back of the coach, and you'll find everything there. 
 Tell Parker — you'll find him somewhere about," and the bore 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 233 
 
 drifted vaguely away in quest of the sparkling fluid, whilst 
 the Duke once more turned to his fair companion. 
 
 " These — er — interruptions are slightly annoying when one 
 has something of particular interest to say. However, to 
 resume : I was about to say — that — well, not to beat about 
 the bush, will you, my dear Miss Comely — my dear Adela — 
 honour me by becoming my wife?" 
 
 And what Adela said in reply, may be left to the polite 
 discrimination of the reader. 
 
 Directly the last race was over a general stampede of ' Horse, 
 Foot, and Artillery ' took place from the course. The Duke's 
 four were quickly put to, and His Grace, with an elegant twirl 
 of his long whip-thong round the stock, chirruped to his 
 team, and away they went, the leaders cantering and putting 
 in the ornamental, whilst the sturdy wheelers did the useful 
 portion of the work. Quickly following them came the 
 Binkies' carriage ; these two were almost the first to leave the 
 course. Then came a crowd of vehicles all together, followed 
 naturally by the inevitable block, and the equally inevitable 
 melaiKjc of bad language and policemen. Leaving the ' block ' 
 to arrange itself as best it can, those present bid each other 
 farewell and we hear a few of the parting words — 
 
 " Then I shall call upon Lady Comely to-morrow after- 
 noon." 
 
 " Good-night, dear Eonny. I am so proud that you've won 
 the Cup to-day. But I shall nerer let you ride in one of these 
 dreadful steeplechases again after we are " 
 
 " I say, you know, if I hadn't sold the winner, why, you 
 know, I should have won the Cup to-day, shouldn't I ? " 
 
 " No, you silly cuckoo ! The rest of the horses would have 
 
234 ^^HE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 been over the first three fences while you were thinkmg about 
 startmg ! " 
 
 " Good-bye, and don't you forget my gloves ! " 
 
 " Jolly day it's been. Awfully glad old Eonald's won the 
 Cup." 
 
 " Good-night, Travers. I hope this is the last time you'll 
 attempt steeplechase riding. Really, I can't help saying that 
 I think you made yourself perfectly ridiculous in that absurd 
 dress ! " 
 
 " Oh, really ! " etc., etc. 
 
 * * * * 
 
 There was no house-party at the Castle, and the Duke 
 and his son, after dining together, adjourned to the former's 
 sanctum. Gravity did not smoke — it made him feel ill — 
 and the fact of his accompanying his revered parent to the 
 smoking-room, instead of joining him there at a later hour, as 
 was his custom, filled the Ducal ' guilty conscience ' with 
 alarm. 
 
 " Wonder if he guesses anything? H'm, well, he's got to 
 know all about it, so here goes." But His Grace took care to 
 get his cigar well alight before taking the plunge. It is really 
 astonishing what an amount of confidence smoking gives a 
 man. After the first six whiffs the Duke felt strengthened 
 for the coming ordeal; comforted, but still decidedly ill at 
 ease. 
 
 "Er — I have something which " began father and son 
 
 simultaneously — then they both came to an abrupt stop. 
 
 " I beg pardon, dear boy, you were about to say " 
 
 " I '? — oh no ; what I have to say will keep. You go on, sir ; 
 you were going to say " 
 
THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 235 
 
 "Well — er — you see, u\y dear fellow — er — I— I was going 
 to — to make a somewhat important communication to you — 
 to inform you, in short, of — of — an impending change which 
 — which may— I only say may — make — er — some difference to 
 you in your mode of life." 
 
 " And so was I, sir ! " 
 
 " The devil you were ! " exclaimed his astonished sire. 
 " You — you don't mean that you're going to get married ? " 
 
 " That is exactl}^ what I do mean, sir. I — I thank you 
 for enabling me to get it out. I had thought that I should 
 have entirely failed to do so," he gasped. "I didn't know 
 how you'd take it." 
 
 The Duke heaved a mighty sigh of relief as he strode over, 
 and warmly grasped his son's hand. 
 
 " My dear boy, I congratulate you with all my heart. And 
 the fact is, I'm going to be married myself, so nothing could 
 be more opportune. I proposed to-day on the top of the 
 coach." 
 
 " And I proposed to-day inside it." 
 
 The two men stared at one another for a moment, and then 
 burst into a hearty laugh. 
 
 " Of course Miss Comely is to be the future Duchess ? " 
 
 The Duke nodded gaily. 
 
 " And the coming Lady Gravity ? " 
 
 "Is Mrs. Joggletilt." 
 
 If the Honourable Seraphina Joggletilt was not quite the 
 Duke's idea of a fitting daughter-in-law, she was still an 
 unimpeachably good match ; for the excellent Joggletilt, who 
 some four years before had left this sphere for another, and, 
 we trust, a brighter one, had shed, in departing, the comfortable 
 
236 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 sum of five hundred thousand pounds, which said sum would, 
 His Grace thought, be of infinite service in renovating the 
 somewhat shattered fortunes of the Lords of Haughtyshire. 
 
 " I shall, if you wish it, sir, still continue to manage the 
 estate," said Lord Gravity. " It is part of my life now, and I 
 should not like to give it up." 
 
 " Thanks, dear boy, a thousand thanks. I don't know what 
 on earth I should do without you. Now, I should like to make 
 
 you a very handsome wedding present, and " but the 
 
 Duke stopped short as he noticed the old action of his son's 
 hands stealing into his trousers pockets, and the old, half- 
 negative shake of the head. 
 
 " I'm very sorry, father, but I can't, I really ca>i't spare you 
 money enough for anything of that sort. The estate won't 
 stand it. You see, there'll be the whole of the Broughton 
 farm to " 
 
 "Oh, d — n the details," broke in the Duke hastily. 
 " But, by Jove ! if I have to sell my horses, you sJiall have a 
 wedding present, and a thumping good one, my boy." 
 
 And thus was settled what, under other and less favourable 
 circumstances, might have been a cause of terrible trouble 
 between these two. On the day following, the fact that there 
 would soon be a double wedding, and that the Castle would 
 supply the two 'grooms,' became public property. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 TURNOVER r. BINKIE. 
 
 Although Jack Dashwood had missed the big event with 
 Sheldrake, he had managed to win about twenty pounds when 
 he pulled off the last race of the day, and as Sir Tommy als3 
 had backed the horse — strictly ' on the nod ' with a confiding 
 l^ookmaker — they were both in excellent spirits as they drove 
 back to The Chase. Penelope also was more than delighted 
 because of Eonald's win. But with these exceptions, there 
 was a certain gloom and dulness over the rest of the party. 
 Septimus was extremely sleepy, and bored to death at being 
 made to witness a sport for which he did not care twopence ; 
 Mrs. Septimus was trying to quell a growing dislike for the 
 Lumpkins, whose conduct had again been haughty and what 
 she described as top-loftical. " I begin to hate that stuck-up 
 minx, and think that even my fool of a son " (Mrs. Binkie never 
 minced matters with regard to poor Travers) "is a sight too 
 good for her. Who's she, I should like to know, to give her- 
 self such airs '? and what if the Binkie money was made in 
 ' Composites ' ? They was r/ood Composites, anyhow ! " 
 
 And that ' fool of a son ' himself was divided between 
 satisfaction at the thought that he would ever thereafter be 
 able to ' gas ' to his female acquaintance that he had ridden 
 in a steeplechase, and vexation that his Luty had not been 
 
238 THE HAUGHTY SHIRE HUNT. 
 
 at all impressed by the performance ; in fact, that she had 
 delivered herself of one or two most unpleasant remarks upon 
 the subject. He had not appeared as a hero to her, at all ; 
 and this was a very annoying circumstance for Mr. Binkie, 
 who, as we have said, rode entirely for the sake of the glory 
 attaching to the wearing of racing colours — and that gentle- 
 man enjoyed no monopoly of the idea, as most people who 
 know anything of racing matters could testify. 
 
 "I really don't think Luty quite appreciates me as she 
 ought. And it's so doosid funny, too, 'cause I'm sure she 
 worshipped me when I stayed at Catchem Court — before I 
 asked her to marry me ! " 
 
 Ah, friend Travers ! isn't that often the way of the world ? 
 It fawns upon you as long as its desires are left unfulfilled — 
 but the moment you grant the favour, whatever it may be, 
 that it wishes, away goes the deprecating manner, the air of 
 implied deference, the spurious affection. And the lower the 
 social grade of the would-be recipient of your favour, the 
 more certain you may be of his ingratitude. ' Set a beggar 
 
 on horseback ' and we all know the rest of the saying. 
 
 Although the last words of the argument do not apply to this 
 particular case, it was nevertheless a fact, that having received 
 Travers's offer, the fair Luty did not deem it at all necessary to 
 keep up any show of affection for her victim, and Mr. Binkie 
 was just beginning to open his codfish-like eyes to the truth. 
 
 "Now, Tottie " — and here he heaved a deep sigh, like the 
 noise emitted by a blast furnace — " Now, Tottie always did 
 appreciate me ; but she's cut up rough, and it's really awfully 
 beastly, you know, altogether," said our friend to himself 
 ruefully. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 239 
 
 The following morning, amidst the batch of letters for the 
 
 inmates of The Chase, was one in a blue envelope, addressed to 
 
 Travers. It read as follows — 
 
 " 25, Grazein Fields, 
 
 ''March 25th. 
 
 " Dear Sir, 
 
 "Yourself ats. Turnover, 
 
 " This case is down in the paper for hearing, and will 
 
 probably be reached somewhere about next Wednesday week. 
 
 We have, according to your instructions, briefed Mr. Eonald 
 
 Dennison for the defence. W^e will write or telegraph you 
 
 exact date of the case coming on, as soon as it is in the 
 
 daily cause list. 
 
 " We are, dear sir, 
 
 " Yours faithfully, 
 
 " Clutchcosts & Makeabit. 
 "T. A. Binkie, Esq." 
 
 "Oh, really!" murmured Binkie, "so she does mean to 
 bring the action after all ! I thought she'd forgotten it, 
 perhaps. And now I suppose the lawyer chappies will ask 
 me a lot of beastly questions which I don't know the answer 
 to. Well, if they give a verdict against me, Pa'll have to pay 
 the damages. Won't he swear ! " 
 
 And a week later, upon receipt of a further intimation from 
 Messrs. Clutchcosts & Makeabit, Travers left The Chase for 
 town, accompanied by his friend and Counsel, Mr. Pionald 
 Dennison. The two took up their quarters at a quiet hotel 
 in the neighbourhood of the new Law Courts, and there 
 prepared for battle with those particular minions of the law 
 who were engaged to represent the interests of Miss Tottie 
 Turnover. 
 
240 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Eonald, a bit rusty for want of practice — he had not held a 
 brief for three or four years past — spent the day or two pre- 
 ceding that on which the trial was to take place, in brushing 
 up his law at the Middle Temple Library and in picking up all 
 he could in the Courts themselves. Travers amused himself 
 by sauntering about the streets, looking in at the shop 
 windows, and buying several articles for wliich he had no 
 earthly use, with an occasional run in to Tattersall's and 
 Aldridge's on the sale days. Each night he went to some 
 Music Hall, ' seeing life,' as he called it. 
 
 That curious expression ' seeing life ' — what absurd vagaries 
 it is held to excuse, and what weird ideas of its interpretation 
 some men have ! To the Travers type, the average ' Variety 
 Stage ' performer's doings represent ' life,' whilst quite a 
 large number are in the regular habit of what they call 
 ' seeing life ' through the bottom of a whisky-tumbler ! 
 
 At length the eventful day, which was to witness the forensic 
 combat between the forces of the Turnovers and the Binkies, 
 arrived. Trousers lost himself five times between the entrance 
 to the Great Hall and Court 7, where Mr. -Justice Smotherum 
 would sit at half-past ten of the clock, in order to try the 
 important issue raised by Miss Tottie Turnover's case. 
 Finally, he gave himself into the custody of one of the 
 attendants, and was, by him, conducted to the door of the 
 Court and dexterously shot inside. He took a seat in the row 
 reserved for Q.C.'s ; and thence, being promptly fired out by 
 the usher, he drifted into the ' well,' and was charitably taken 
 charge of by Mr. Clutchcosts, who dumped him down in a 
 place at his side. 
 
 A moment later, and the fair plaintiff, arrayed in a tartan 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 241 
 
 plaid gown of such a description as would represent Joseph in 
 his coat of many colours at about 9 st. 7 lbs., entered the Court 
 on the arm of her solicitor, Mr. Poky-Snowsin. She was 
 closely followed by ' Ma ' Turnover, carrying a crimson velvet 
 reticule, which contained a salts bottle, several clean pocket 
 handkerchiefs for weeping purposes, a brandy flask, and the 
 family luncheon. The ladies also took their places in the 
 ' well ' only a few feet, in fact, away from ' Halgy.' 
 
 " Smoothe Silky Q.C., is against us, Mr. Dennison ! " 
 murmured Mr. Clutchcosts to his Counsel. " He's a very oily 
 gentleman, and most polite ; but he's dangerous, sir, very 
 dangerous, with a Jury. You'll have to watch him, sir, 3'ou'll 
 have to watch him ! " and the (more or less) worthy lawyer 
 shook his head profoundly, and then nodded in the direction 
 of the ' dangerous ' man, with more than Burleigh-like 
 profundity. 
 
 " I'm glad to hear he's not one of the bullying sort," 
 returned Konald simply. " In my rather undisciplined con- 
 dition, I might possibly punch his head if he were rude ! " 
 
 Mr. Clutchcosts looked shocked : violence, contempt of court, 
 writ, attachment, Holloway Gaol, application, purge contempt, 
 release, payment of costs ; all these he rolled through his 
 brain, the while he maintained the grieved expression on his 
 countenance. The next moment the curtains around the dais 
 door were violently agitated ; an usher with a white face and 
 thin scarlet hair strutted in, and called in loud tones — 
 
 " Silence, please ! " and his Lordship waddled in. He made 
 a bob at the Bar, the Bar bobbed back at him ; then everyone 
 subsided into his seat, and the Kegistrar called out in a dry, 
 ministerial voice — 
 
 H.H. R 
 
242 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 " Turnover against Binkie." Whereat much shuffling of 
 feet, muttering and mumbling, in the midst of which the 
 learned Judge looked up angrily and cried — 
 
 "Silence, please ! " 
 
 Whereupon the Registrar rose from his seat, glared all 
 round the Court, and repeated — 
 
 " Silence, please ! " 
 
 And the usher, awakened to a sense of the awful respon- 
 sibility incurred by any who should dare to speak in the 
 august presence of Mr. Justice Smotherum, bawled out at the 
 top of his voice — 
 
 " Si-lence, please ! " 
 
 And then the Junior Counsel for the plaintiff, Mr. Clifford 
 Sinn, hastily swallowing a cough-drop, rose on his hind legs 
 and stumbled through some legal jargon, yclept ' pleadings,' 
 after which the real business of the day began, as Mr. Silky's 
 honeyed accents invited the attention of the twelve ' good men 
 and true,' whilst he narrated the details and particulars of 
 one of the most heartless cases of a young man's frailty, and a 
 young man's desertion, which it had yet been his lot to hear of. 
 
 "Oh, but that's rather beastly, you know, isn't it'?" 
 squeaked Mr. Binkie to his solicitor. Poor Travers had 
 certainly never viewed his own conduct in any such light as 
 this before, and was disagreeably surprised at hearing himself 
 thus denounced. Mr. Clutchcosts turned to his client, and 
 in soothing tones said — 
 
 "It's only Silky's way. He says the same thing in every 
 ' breach ' case he has. The judges all know him, and it's a 
 fresh jury every time, you see, so they don't have the chance 
 of getting sick of the statement." 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 243 
 
 " Oh, reall}' ! then he doesn't actually mean it, eh ? " 
 
 " 'Sh,-h'sh," whispered Mr. Clutchcosts, and Binkie subsided 
 into silence as the mellifluous tones went evenly on, detailing 
 much of what Travers had said, and a great deal more that 
 he had never even thought of, and after introducing the 
 subject of the defendant's last letter to his client, the great 
 Q.C., with something of a triumphant flourish, produced that 
 precious document, adducing it as evidence, clear and decisive, 
 that the story told by the fair plaintiff was true, whilst that 
 relied on for the defence was one which, when submitted to 
 such intelligent brains as those pertaining to the jurymen he 
 saw before him, would not, he contended, hold water for one 
 moment. "In that letter," proceeded Mr. Smoothe Silky, 
 waving it airily about in his hand, as he bent forward to 
 address the jury still more confidently, " what do we find ? 
 Do we discover any repudiation of what my client alleged, 
 namely, that Mr. Binkie had promised to make her his wife ? 
 No ! There is an attempt, it is true, to explain away " 
 
 " I don't want to interrupt my learned friend unneces- 
 sarily," said Ronald, rising at this juncture, " but I must ask 
 him to read the whole of the letter, if he is going to comment 
 on it at this stage." 
 
 "Oh, certainly, certainly ; we have nothing to conceal ! " 
 replied the great Queen's Counsel with a majestic air, and he 
 then read through the whole of Travers's somewhat unfortunate 
 screed, written in reply to Miss Turnover's threat of an action. 
 " And, gentlemen, I beg to draw your special attention to the 
 very last paragraph of this precious effusion. Let me read 
 these words to you again — ' I might marry you some day or 
 other, who knows ? — that is, if you don't put the matter into 
 
 r2 
 
244 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 a beastly lawyer's hands, because they are interfering people 
 who I don't like.' " 
 
 Smoothe Silky paused, in order to allow the words he had 
 just read to settle duly down into the jury's minds. Then 
 glancing round the Court, his eyes fell upon Travers's round, 
 stupid face, and half-opened mouth, and resuming his address, 
 he said — 
 
 " The man who wrote those words was no innocent, gentle- 
 men. The man who penned that paragraph was clever — 
 diabolically clever, and gifted with an ingenuity and craft, a 
 subtle brain " (by this time poor Trousers's eyes were starting 
 out of his head with amazement), " which, had it been applied 
 to a nobler purpose, might have won him name and fame in 
 the world. But he has chosen a baser use for his genius ; he 
 has applied it to the deceiving of a young and artless girl, 
 and she comes before you to-day, clothed in innocence, and — 
 and " 
 
 " the usual feminine attire!" whispered Eonald to 
 
 the brother barrister on his right. 
 
 " and demanding at your hands that solatium, those 
 
 damages, which, whilst not vindictive, should yet be substantial, 
 bearing in mind that my client is poor, and that the defendant 
 is a man whose reputation for wealth it would be mere 
 affectation on my part to suppose you are ignorant of. And 
 you must also remember the loss she sustains in not obtaining 
 so clever, so able, so witty and intellectual a companion for 
 life, as Mr. Travers Binkie." And with this peroration, 
 Mr. Silky resumed his seat, leaving Travers absolutely at a 
 loss to know whether he had been blessed or cursed the most. 
 
 Mr. Clifford Sinn then proceeded to call Miss Tottie 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 245 
 
 Turnover, who stepped briskly into the witness-box, and 
 proceeded to remove her right-hand glove, preparatory to 
 being sworn. 
 
 " Not quite so jaunty in jouv bearing, my dear Miss 
 Turnover, please," whispered her solicitor in her ear. "And it 
 might be useful to us if 3'ou would arrange to weep, in, say, 
 about ten minutes to a quarter of an hour's time," he added. 
 
 Mr. Poky-Snowsin then crept silently back to his seat in the 
 well of the Court, and the fair Tottie proceeded to give her 
 evidence in chief, fully corroborating all that her eloquent and 
 learned Counsel had said already in his opening statement to 
 the jury. Then Mr. Clifford Sinn, having gently subsided into 
 his seat again, Mr. Eonald Dennison rose to have his turn, and 
 the whole of the audience settled themselves down to listen 
 to the cross-examination. 
 
 After a few unimportant preliminary ' feelers,' Eonald 
 said, in an indifferent voice — 
 
 " By the way, Miss Turnover, your learned Counsel has 
 spoken of you as a young girl. I know what odium I shall 
 incur in putting this question, but it is one which I am bound, 
 in the interests of the defendant, to ask. I must ask you what 
 is your age ? ' ' 
 
 " Eeally, my Lord," began Mr. Silky, " what has this to do 
 with the case '? I must " 
 
 But here Mr. Justice Smotherum, who wanted to know 
 himself, promptly overruled the objection, and ordered the 
 witness to answer the question. 
 
 Tottie tossed her head disdainfully, and then said — 
 
 " I'm just twen " 
 
 " One moment," interrupted Eonald. " It's only fair to you. 
 
246 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Miss Turnover, to say that I have certain evidence in my 
 possession here, in relation to the matter." 
 
 Tottie ' tumbled,' and immediately changed front. " I'm 
 thirty-two," she said sullenly. 
 
 " Ah ; and so, when my learned friend was referring to 
 you as a young girl deceived and abandoned by a heartless 
 man — my client — he was, as a fact, speaking of the love 
 affairs of a lady of thirty-two and a young man of twenty- 
 four, eh?" 
 
 " How can the plaintiff' say what Mr. Binkie's age is ? " 
 protested Mr. Silky energetically. 
 
 " I am putting it to her now," replied Eonald calmly, 
 " and I will formally prove the defendant's age, if you 
 wish it." 
 
 Mr. Silky simmered down again, as Mr. Justice Smotherum 
 dipped the wrong end of his pen into the ink, and wrote down 
 nothing with the nib. 
 
 " Can you produce any letters — other than those you have 
 already shown us — which passed between you and the 
 defendant '? " asked Eonald. 
 
 " Oh, Halgy never was one for doing much writing," 
 answered the lady promptly. Mr. Justice Smotherum tickled 
 his red nose with the inky end of his pen, thereby producing 
 a pleasing, if wholly unexpected, effect. 
 
 " Rouge et Noir," murmured a flippant Junior, fixing 
 his glass into his eye, in order the better to surv,ey his 
 Lordship. 
 
 " Then, I may take it from you. Miss Turnover, may I, that 
 no such letters exist ? " 
 
 "Oh no, we had very httle letter-writing," replied the fair 
 
Toitic in the Box. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 247 
 
 plaintiff, with a toss of her head. " We used to see each other 
 too often for that ! " ^ 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " said Eonald quickly, " how often? — about, 
 you know ? " 
 
 " Well, p'raps three or four times a week." 
 
 " Oh, really ! what a whacker ! " bleated Binkie, in perfectly 
 audible tones. 
 
 " Si — lence ! " roared the usher, as a titter ran through 
 the Court. 
 
 " Will you undertake to swear that you have ever in 
 your life seen the defendant four times in any one week ? " 
 continued Eonald relentlessly. 
 
 Miss Turnover didn't like this. Had she not been on 
 her oath (and therefore punishable for perjury) she would 
 have lied glibly enough ; but Mr. Poky-Snowsin had given 
 her a quiet hint on this subject, and the lady had been 
 inspired with a holy horror of the dock. Kemembering her 
 solicitor's parting advice as she had stepped into the witness- 
 box, she now, instead of answering the question, tried to pump 
 up some tears. 
 
 " Halgy would never have so insulted a laidy ! " she gasped, 
 between her sobs. 
 
 " I think perhaps this would be a favourable opportunity to 
 adjourn for luncheon," observed Mr. Justice Smotherum, who 
 always hated to be bored with tears. " At least," he added 
 hastily, as his clerk whispered something in his ear, "at least 
 — er — that is " 
 
 " Yes, my Lord, he's opened two dozen already — on the 
 deep shell, my Lord," softly purred the clerk. 
 
 " Er — I was just considering the convenience of Counsel, 
 
248 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 and — er — I may say" (another whispered conference with the 
 clerk, in which the words "not Chablis, but a small bottle of 
 Guinness " were heard distinctly in Court)'" I may say that — 
 er — I think we will adjourn now," he concluded, turning from 
 his clerk, and again addressing the Court at large. His Lord- 
 ship then rose, smacked his lips at the thought of the luscious 
 Whitstables and the rich brown stout awaiting him, and 
 quickly waddled off through the curtained doorway. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 THE VEKDICT WEDDING BELLS. 
 
 Whilst the learned Judge discussed his natives, the equally 
 learned Counsel wrestled with the antediluvian bun and the 
 pre-historic sandwich. It has been said, and truly, that 
 England, more than any other country, rewards her sons 
 liberally for valour, but why, oh, why, is there no Cross, 
 no medal, for the man who boldly pits his digestive organs 
 against the evil forces arrayed in their might, on the every- 
 day refreshment counter '? The railway-station sandwich, 
 and the insidious Bath bun can claim their victims just as 
 certainly as battle and plague ; and ' a good man struggling 
 \yith adversity ' is surely never better exemplified to our eyes 
 than when we see a friend libating lemonade or worrying a 
 sausage roll. 
 
 At a little past two o'clock, his Lordship, full of energy and 
 Whitstables, came back into Court, and the cross-examination 
 of the plaintiff by Mr. Eonald Dennison was resumed. Things 
 ruled quiet for a time, but then Counsel for the defence put in 
 some nasty shots which not only reduced the fair lady once 
 more to tears, but also succeeded in making Mr. Silky look 
 extremely uncomfortable for the ultimate issue of his case. 
 
 Sir Tommy and Jack Dashwood had come up expressly for 
 the fun of seeing their dear friend Binkie well trounced, and 
 
250 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 to get as much fun out of the whole performance as possible. 
 At one of Ronald's questions, Jack observed to Tommy — 
 " That's a rum one for the lady to explain away. I fancy 
 it'll make old Silky ' sit up and purr.' " But at that moment 
 Mr. Binkie rose, and, in an agitated whisper to his Counsel, 
 begged that gentleman not to press his question. 
 
 Ronald looked somewhat astonished. 
 
 "But, my dear fellow, I must ask these questions, if we 
 are to succeed. And I don't think the other side fancy their 
 case very much now. We shall win, but you really must let 
 me take my own course, you know." 
 
 "But you — oh, really! you know, it's so doosid beastly, 
 you know, to ask such rude questions, you know ! " 
 
 " Shut up. Trousers; don't you see he's doing his best for 
 you, you owl ! " politely remarked Jack, and poor Travers, 
 almost in tears, subsided into his seat again. 
 
 Unmoved by this interruption and request on the part of his 
 client, Ronald continued his cross-examination searchingly to 
 the end. Mr. Silky put a few questions in re-examination 
 to the plaintiff, and then she quickly resigned her place in the 
 witness-box to ' Ma ' Turnover, who at once proceeded to draw 
 upon a somewhat fertile imagination, and indulge in some 
 statements which fairly staggered the unhappy defendant. 
 
 Before it came to Ronald's turn to test, by cross-examina- 
 tion, the truth of the evidence adduced by her, Mr. Justice 
 Smotherum shufHed his feet about uneasily, glanced at the 
 clock, coughed, and at last observed — 
 
 "As we cannot possibly finish this case to-night" ("and 
 as I l)adly want a cigar and a rubber at the Club," he added 
 to himself), "perhaps the present stage would be a good one at 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 251 
 
 which to break off the hearing. I am sitting with my brother 
 Sphthairs as a Divisional Court to-morrow ; so I shall be 
 unable to resume this cause until the day after, when, if you, 
 gentlemen" — politely indicating the learned Counsel engaged 
 — "can finish before the midday adjournment — er — I — er — " 
 ("can get away to Sandown Park in time for the big hurdle 
 race," sotto voce) — " I should feel glad," and with a farewell 
 bob at the Bar, and a sigh of relief, the learned Judge left 
 the Bench. 
 
 By the time that Ronald had gathered up his papers and 
 put the tape round them, Travers had already left the Court. 
 Jack Bashwood and Sir Tommy were to dine with Mr. Binkie 
 and Dennison at the hotel that night at 7.30, but it was 
 past eight o'clock when Travers, looking considerably less 
 depressed than he had been throughout the day's proceedings, 
 turned up to play the part of host. 
 
 " Everything is going well for us, Travers," said Ronald, as 
 they sat down to table. " I hope you feel more happy in your 
 mind now, eh ? " 
 
 "Oh, yes, really!" squeaked Binkie, "I'm a doosid deal 
 happier about it than I was. We'll have some pop on the 
 strength of it, won't we ? Waiter, bring the wine list — oh ! 
 here it is. Heidsick's dr^^ Monopole, eh, dear boys ? Or 
 Poll Rogers— oh, no, I see it's Pol Roger — funny, ain't it ? 
 Sounds just like the name of some gal, don't it ? " 
 
 The dinner passed oft' as successfully as it was to be expected 
 it would, when presided over by a genius so bright, a wit so 
 sparkling, as that of Mr. Travers Algernon Binkie. All the 
 party were in good spirits. The host seemed remarkably 
 pleased with himself ; Ronald was very confident that the 
 
252 THE HAUGHTY SHI RE HUNT. 
 
 upshot of the case would enable him to claim the fulfilment 
 of Mrs. Binkie's promise to consent to his marriage with 
 Penelope ; whilst Jack and Sir Tommy were both looking 
 forward with a considerable amount of glee to the prospect 
 of seeing Travers ' dusted over ' by Mr. Silky Q.C., when 
 he got him into the box for cross-examination. Eochefoucauld, 
 the great French philosopher, never said anything truer than 
 that ' few things give us greater satisfaction than the mis- 
 fortunes of our friends.' Eeader, Ave ask solemnly, can you 
 deny it ? And especially if you are a hunting man ! 
 
 But Travers did not give the appearance of one in 
 misfortune, this night. His spirits, as we have said, had 
 wonderfully recovered their tone ; he was gay, nay, even 
 hilarious ; and after, as he expressed it, ' doing himself proud ' 
 on the dry Monopole, he stuck an extremely long cigar in his 
 mouth, winked confidentially at the waiter as he ordered coffee 
 and liqueurs, and then the spirit within moved him to speech, 
 or, as Jack called it, to ' spread himself a bit.' 
 
 " Look here, you chappies ; I bet there won't be any verdict 
 against me in this case, eh, Eonald ? " 
 
 Pionald shook his head. " I think we're pretty safe already," 
 he replied, lighting a cigar. Travers again winked knowingly ; 
 this time at Tommy's hat, stuck on a side table, and which 
 Mr. Binkie mistook for a waiter. Then he resumed — 
 
 " You'll see how I'll bother old Silky when he cross- 
 examines me ! And when we've won the case, you chappies 
 must all dine with me at Richmond to celebrate the event, eh '? 
 I say, old Mrs. Turnover can tell some whackers, can't she? " 
 and then the subject was dropped, and about midnight the 
 party broke up. 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 253 
 
 Mr. Justice Smotherum was somewhat late in taking his 
 seat in Court on the morning when the hearing of the Binkie- 
 Turnover cas9 was to be resumed. His Lordship was not in 
 the best of tempers, having backed three seconds, and held 
 shocking hands at whist the previous da}'. He had made 
 up his mind to hustle this wretched case through quickly, have 
 a lobster and a pint of Moet, and just go down and ' knock the 
 stuffing ' out of the Eing at Sandown this afternoon, get back 
 his losses, and a bit to the good besides. 
 
 "Turnover against Binkie," cried out the Clerk of the 
 Court. 
 
 Mr. Clifford Sinn was present, as representing the plaintiff's 
 interests, whilst Mr. Pionald Dennison again appeared for the 
 defence. Mr. Silk}' Q.C., had an application to make in 
 another Court, so had not yet come. 
 
 ' Ma ' Turnover was called, but the lady did not answer to 
 her name. Three or four times did the crier yell for " Ann 
 Slumper Turnover!" outside the gloomy corridors; but he 
 exerted his lungs in vain. ' Ma ' Turnover was not forth- 
 
 ^o*- 
 
 commg. 
 
 "Why isn't the woman here?" growled Mr. Justice 
 Smotherum, testily. 
 
 " Perhaps your Lordship would allow me to interpose a 
 witness. Mrs. Turnover may have lost her way in the mazes 
 of the building," ventured Mr. Clifford Sinn tentatively. 
 
 " The Court can't be kept waiting for Mrs. Turnover, nor 
 for forty Mrs. Turnovers. Is my time to be wasted just for 
 the convenience of — of— a — of a retail bun-merchant ! — a — a 
 —a cakemonger '? No, sir ; I will be no party to frittering 
 away the time which the public pays for ! " (The learned 
 
254 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 Judge had quite forgotten, for the moment, his projected quiet 
 little afternoon at Sandown.) 
 
 But just as Mr. Clifford Sinn, bending beneath the storm of 
 stern judicial indignation, was wondering what on earth he 
 should do, a rustle at the back of the Court announced the 
 arrival of Mr. Silky, who, in a few hurried words from his 
 Junior, learned the state of the case. 
 
 "M'Lud," began the great Queen's Counsel, in his most 
 oily tones, "if y'r Ludship will permit me to make an obser- 
 vation " but just at tliis moment the missing witness 
 
 turned up, and at once went into the box. 
 
 "Why were you not here at the right time, woman?" 
 snapped the Judge. 
 
 "Well, please your Lordship, I met the defendant outside, 
 and I went up and says to him, I says, ' If you was a gentle- 
 man,' I says, ' you'd offer us somethink to settle this case.' " 
 
 " That's no excuse for keeping one of Her Majesty's Judges 
 waiting, madam ! You should have been here ; or, at all 
 events, applied to me for an adjournment, so that you could 
 negotiate with the defendant for a settlement. You can have 
 an adjournment now if you like, to try and settle the matter." 
 (Mr. Justice Smotherum thought this would be rather a good 
 way of getting off to Sandown early.) 
 
 " Oh no, thank you, my Lord. It wouldn't be no manner 
 of use. All as he offered me was thirty shillin's and my cab 
 fare 'ome ! " 
 
 " Silence ! " shouted the usher, to drown the noise of ribald 
 laughter arising in the Court. 
 
 In something less than ten minutes' cross-examination, 
 Pionald had bowled over the witness no less than three times 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 255 
 
 as to her statements given on the previous day; and, hot, 
 dishevelled, and angry, ' Ma ' Turnover left the box, observing 
 that Mr. Dennison was 'no gentleman.' 
 
 One more witness — a wholly unimportant one — completed 
 the case for the plaintiff ; and Eonald occupied but a very few 
 minutes in his opening speech, before calling Mr. Travers 
 Algernon Binkie into the witness-box. He briefly examined 
 that gentleman, and then turned him over to the tender 
 mercies of Mr. Smoothe Silky Q.C. 
 
 "What are you, Mr. Binkie, may I ask?" began the 
 eminent Coansel, polishing up his glasses with a silk handker- 
 chief as he spoke. 
 
 "I'm Trousers — I mean Travers — Travers Binkie, 3'ou 
 know. Who did you think I was?" and the vacuous eye 
 fixed itself upon the questioner in stupid wonderment. 
 
 Mr. Silky gave a cough of annoyance. " I don't mean 
 that. I want to know what is your business or profession." 
 " Oh, really ! then why didn't you say so ? " 
 "Kindly refrain from cross-examining me, sir, and answer 
 the question. What are you ? " 
 
 "Well, I suppose I'm a sort of man. I haven't got 
 anything to do, you know. Funny, ain't it?" 
 
 "Will you cease putting questions, sir!" broke in the 
 Judge angrily. "You are not here for the purpose of asking 
 conundrums ! " 
 
 Binkie looked frightened, and endeavoured to concentrate 
 his intellectual forces on the next query of the learned 
 Counsel's. 
 
 "Is it a fact, Mr. Binkie, that you are now contemplating 
 
 matrimony with another lady? " 
 
256 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 " Well, you see, I don't quite know ; but I think so. If 
 Luty " 
 
 "Answer the question, sir, if you please. Yes or No." 
 
 "But I can't, you know; perhaps we shan't be able to 
 agree about the " 
 
 " Are you engaged to be married ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes. Why didn't you — oh, beg pardon ; forgot I 
 mustn't ask questions." 
 
 Mr. Silky, despite all his persuasion, varied by bullying 
 here and there, failed to extort anything in the shape of 
 important admissions from Mr. Binkie, for the simple reason 
 that there was really nothing to admit, he never having at 
 any time contemplated making Miss Turnover his wife. In 
 concluding his cross-examination, Mr. Silky asked— 
 
 " Then you are prepared to swear that you never made my 
 client an offer of marriage — is that what you say ? " 
 
 " Yes. I never even thought of it." 
 
 " And yet, sir, you write her this letter, in which occur 
 these words ! " and the learned Counsel again quoted the last 
 paragraph of Binkie's letter — " You say that you may marr}^ 
 her some day, who knows, etc. Now, in the face of that, do 
 you still say marriage was never contemplated by you? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then how do you explain those words, sir ? Why did 
 you ever use them ? " 
 
 "Oh, because I was in such a beastly funk, you know, 
 that's why. I thought it would stop her going to the lawyer's, 
 you know, if I said that," blurted out Binkie. 
 
 " So that when you wrote those words you wrote them with 
 the deliberate intention of deceiving this young woman? " 
 
THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 257 
 
 " Oh, really ! I don't know," replied Mr. Binkie feebly. 
 
 " Well, sir, I will leave the jury to put their own construc- 
 tion on your conduct ! " said Mr. Silky grandiloquently, as he 
 resumed his seat after tiring this last Parthian dart. 
 
 The trial quickly came to a close with Mr. Justice 
 Smotherum's brief summing up. His Lordship was in a 
 hurry. Already his chance of a seat in the ' special ' was 
 gone, and he would have to push along in order to arrive on 
 the course in time for the big race of the afternoon. 
 
 " Gentlemen of the jury," he said, speaking rapidly, and as 
 if he were thoroughly sick of the whole affair, " You have 
 heard the evidence given by the plaintiff's witnesses — er— ha 
 — hum — and if — er — you believe that evidence, and if — er — 
 you think — er — that that evidence contains sufficient cor- 
 roboration of the story told by the plaintiff" herself in relation 
 to this alleged promise, why — er — you will give a verdict in 
 her favour ; and if on the other hand you prefer to believe the 
 defendant's version — why — er — your decision will be for him. 
 If you find a verdict for the plaintiff, you will then consider, 
 in the second place, what amount of damages you think will 
 reasonably meet the exigencies of the case. Er — I don't 
 think I could usefully occupy your time any longer " (" and 
 I'm jolly well sure I'm not going to try ! " to himself), "so 
 you will now kindly consider your verdict." 
 
 Without leaving the box, the jury put their heads together 
 for the space of thirty seconds, at the expiration of which time 
 the foreman rose, and jerked out the words, *' Not guilty." 
 
 " I suppose, gentlemen, you mean that your verdict is for 
 the defendant?" said the learned Judge. "There is no 
 question of guilt or innocence in the matter." 
 
 H.H. s 
 
258 THE HAUGHTYSHIRE HUNT. 
 
 The foreman blushed, and corrected himself immediately. 
 
 " Yes, my Lord. We mean verdict for the defendant." 
 
 " Hooray ! " cried Binkie, and almost before he was aware 
 of it, he found himself shot through the door by the outraged 
 usher, who handed his hat out to him a little later on. 
 
 "Would your Lordship like a case or two transferred from 
 the next Court to your own list, to try? " asked the Eegistrar, 
 blandly. " If so I will at once arrange " 
 
 " By no means ! " hastily interrupted the learned Judge 
 (" see you d — d first," he added to himself indignantly, as 
 he rose from the Bench). 
 
 And whilst Mr, Binkie was being escorted home to his 
 hotel in triumph by his friends, the fair plaintiff left the Law 
 Courts in hysterics and a four-wheeler. 
 
 Little more remains to be told of this veracious history, and 
 within one and the same week the Duke of Haughtyshire, his 
 son and guardian angel, Lord Gravity, Mr, Ronald Dennison, 
 barrister-at-law, and last, but not least, Mr. Travers Algernon 
 Binkie, were duly ' turned off ' in the parish of Mudbury, and 
 all the higher officials of the Church — by which we mean, 
 of course, the pew-opener, sexton, clerk, and bell-ringers — 
 declared that ' they wuz r'3'al times, they wuz,' And as not 
 one of this estimable band was sober for at least a fortnight 
 afterwards, we have little doubt but that, from their point 
 of view, ' they wuz.' 
 
 THE END. 
 
 HUAIllil'KV, AGNKW, cV CO. LIL, PIUNTKliS, LONDON AND TONBIilDGE. 
 
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