Part 49 (2/2)

”Not possible,” said the friend.

”You'll tell me I don't know my own horse next.”

”I don't believe you ever owned one,” said the friend.

Lizzie was in truth delighted to have her cousin beside her. He had, at any rate, forgiven what she had said to him at his last visit, or he would not have been there. And then, too, there was a feeling of reality in her connexion with him, which was sadly wanting to her,--unreal as she was herself,--in her acquaintance with the other people around her. And on this occasion three or four people spoke or bowed to her, who had only stared at her before; and the huntsman took off his cap, and hoped that he would do something better for her than on the previous Monday. And the huntsman was very courteous also to Miss Roanoke, expressing the same hope, cap in hand, and smiling graciously. A huntsman at the beginning of any day or at the end of a good day is so different from a huntsman at the end of a bad day! A huntsman often has a very bad time out hunting, and it is sometimes a marvel that he does not take the advice which Job got from his wife.

But now all things were smiling, and it was soon known that his lords.h.i.+p intended to draw Craigattan Gorse. Now in those parts there is no surer find, and no better chance of a run, than Craigattan Gorse affords.

”There is one thing I want to ask, Mr. Greystock,” said Lord George, in Lizzie's hearing.

”You shall ask two,” said Frank.

”Who is to coach Lady Eustace to-day;--you or I?”

”Oh, do let me have somebody to coach me,” said Lizzie.

”For devotion in coachmans.h.i.+p,” said Frank,--”devotion, that is, to my cousin,--I defy the world. In point of skill I yield to Lord George.”

”My pretensions are precisely the same,” said Lord George. ”I glow with devotion; my skill is naught.”

”I like you best, Lord George,” said Lizzie, laughing.

”That settles the question,” said Lord George.

”Altogether,” said Frank, taking off his hat.

”I mean as a coach,” said Lizzie.

”I quite understand the extent of the preference,” said Lord George.

Lizzie was delighted, and thought the game was worth the candle.

The n.o.ble master had told her that they were sure of a run from Craigattan, and she wasn't in the least tired, and they were not called upon to stand still in a big wood, and it didn't rain, and, in every respect, the day was very different from Monday. Mounted on a bright-skinned, lively steed, with her cousin on one side and Lord George de Bruce Carruthers on the other, with all the hunting world of her own county civil around her, and a fox just found in Craigattan Gorse, what could the heart of woman desire more? This was to live. There was, however, just enough of fear to make the blood run quickly to her heart. ”We'll be away at once now,” said Lord George with utmost earnestness; ”follow me close, but not too close.

When the men see that I am giving you a lead, they won't come between. If you hang back, I'll not go ahead. Just check your horse as he comes to his fences, and, if you can, see me over before you go at them. Now then, down the hill;--there's a gate at the corner, and a bridge over the water. We couldn't be better. By George! there they are,--all together. If they don't pull him down in the first two minutes, we shall have a run.”

Lizzie understood most of it,--more at least than would nine out of ten young women who had never ridden a hunt before. She was to go wherever Lord George led her, and she was not to ride upon his heels.

So much at least she understood,--and so much she was resolved to do.

That dread about her front teeth which had perplexed her on Monday was altogether gone now. She would ride as fast as Lucinda Roanoke.

That was her prevailing idea. Lucinda, with Mrs. Carbuncle, Sir Griffin, and the ladies' groom, was at the other side of the covert.

Frank had been with his cousin and Lord George, but had crept down the hill while the hounds were in the gorse. A man who likes hunting but hunts only once a year is desirous of doing the best he can with his day. When the hounds came out and crossed the brook at the end of the gorse, perhaps he was a little too forward. But, indeed, the state of affairs did not leave much time for waiting, or for the etiquette of the hunting-field. Along the opposite margin of the brook there ran a low paling, which made the water a rather nasty thing to face. A circuit of thirty or forty yards gave the easy riding of a little bridge, and to that all the crowd hurried. But one or two men with good eyes, and hearts as good, had seen the leading hounds across the brook turning up the hill away from the bridge, and knew that two most necessary minutes might be lost in the crowd.

Frank did as they did, having seen nothing of any hounds, but with instinctive knowledge that they were men likely to be right in a hunting-field. ”If that ain't Nappie's horse, I'll eat him,” said one of the leading men to the other, as all the three were breasting the hill together. Frank only knew that he had been carried over water and timber without a mistake, and felt a glow of grat.i.tude towards Mr. MacFarlane. Up the hill they went, and, not waiting to inquire into the circ.u.mstances of a little gate, jumped a four-foot wall and were away. ”How the mischief did he get atop of Nappie's horse?” said the horsey man to his friend.

”We're about right for it now,” said the huntsman, as he came up alongside of Frank. He had crossed the bridge, but had been the first across it, and knew how to get over his ground quickly. On they went, the horsey man leading on his thoroughbred screw, the huntsman second, and Frank third. The pace had already been too good for the other horsey man.

When Lord George and Lizzie had mounted the hill, there was a rush of horses at the little gate. As they topped the hill Lucinda and Mrs.

Carbuncle were jumping the wall. Lord George looked back and asked a question without a word. Lizzie answered it as mutely, Jump it!

<script>