Part 17 (2/2)
Soon after, a fox was found in the plantation that rimmed the lawn, and seeing that Lady Edith was watching him, Mike risked a fall over some high wattles; and this was the only notice he took of her until late in the afternoon, until all hope of hunting was ended. A fox had been ”chopped” in cover, another had been miserably coursed and killed in a back garden. He strove to make himself agreeable while riding with her along the hillsides, watching the huntsman trying each patch of gorse in the coombes. She seemed to him splendid and charming, and he wondered if he could love her--marry her, and never grow weary of her. But when the hounds found in a large wood beneath the hills, and streamed across the meadows, he forgot her, and making his horse go in and out he fought for a start. A hundred and fifty were cantering down a steep muddy lane; a horseman who had come across the field strove to open a strong farm-gate. ”It is locked,”
he roared; ”jump.” The lane was steep and greasy, the gate was four feet and a half. Mike rode at it. The animal dropped his hind-legs, Mike heard the gate rattle, and a little ejaculatory cry come from those he left behind. It was a close shave. Turning in his saddle he saw the immense crowd pressing about the gate, which could not be opened, and he knew very well that he would have the hounds to himself for many a mile.
He raced alone across the misty pasture lands, full of winter water and lingering leaf; the lofty downs like sea cliffs, appearing through great white ma.s.ses of curling vapour. And all the episodes of that day--the great ox fences which his horse flew, going like a bird from field to field; the awkward stile, the various brooks,--that one overgrown with scrub which his horse had refused--thrilled him. And when the day was done, as he rode through the gathering night, inquiring out the way down many a deep and wooded lane, happiness sang within him, and like a pure animal he enjoyed the sensation of life, and he intoxicated on the thoughts of the friends that would have been his, the women and the numberless pleasures and adventures he could have engaged in, were he not obliged to earn money, or were not led away from them ”by his accursed literary tastes.”
Should he marry one of the sisters? Ridiculous! But what was there to do? To-day he was nearly thirty; in ten years he would be a middle-aged man; and, alas! for he felt in him manifold resources, sufficient were he to live for five hundred years. Must he marry Agnes? He might if she was a peeress in her own right! Or should he win a peerage for himself by some great poem, or by some great political treachery? No, no; he wanted nothing better than to live always strong and joyous in this corner of fair England; and to be always loved by girls, and to be always talked of by them about their tea-tables. Oh, for a cup of tea and a slice of warm b.u.t.tered toast!
A good hour's ride yawned between him and Holly Park, but by crossing the downs it might be reduced to three-quarters of an hour. He hesitated, fearing he might miss his way in the fog, but the tea-table lured him. He resolved to attempt it, and forced his horse up a slightly indicated path, which he hoped would led him to a certain barn. High above him a horseman, faint as the shadow of a bird, made his way cantering briskly. Mike strove to overtake him, but suddenly missed him: behind him the pathway was disappearing.
Fearing he might have to pa.s.s a night on the downs, he turned his horse's head; but the animal was obdurate, and a moment after he was lost. He said, ”Great Scott! where am I? Where did this ploughed field come from? I must be near the dike.” Then thinking that he recognized the headland, he rode in a different direction, but was stopped by a paling and a chalk-pit, and, riding round it, he guessed the chalk-pit must be fifty feet deep. Strange white patches, fabulous hillocks, and distortions of ground loomed through the white darkness; and a valley opened on his right so steep that he was afraid to descend into it. Very soon minutes became hours and miles became leagues.
”There's nothing for it but to lie under a furze-bush.” With two pocket-handkerchiefs he tied his horse's fore-legs close together, and sat down and lit a cigar. The furze-patch was quite hollow underneath and almost dry.
”It is nearly full moon,” he said; ”were it not for that it would be pitch dark. Good Lord! thirteen hours of this; I wish I had never been born!”
He had not, however, finished his first cigar before a horse's head and shoulders pushed through the mist. Mike sprang to his feet.
”Can you tell me the way off these infernal downs?” he cried. ”Oh, I beg your pardon, Lady Edith.”
”Oh, is that you, Mr. Fletcher? I have lost my way and my groom too.
I am awfully frightened; I missed him of a sudden in the fog. What shall I do? Can you tell me the way?”
”Indeed I cannot; if I knew the way I should not be sitting under this furze-bush.”
”What shall we do? I must get home.”
”It is very terrible, Lady Edith, but I'm afraid you will not be able to get home till the fog lifts.”
”But I must get home. I must! I must! What will they think? They'll be sending out to look for me. Won't you come with me, Mr. Fletcher, and help me to find the way?”
”I will, of course, do anything you like; but I warn you, Lady Edith, that riding about these downs in a fog is most dangerous; I as nearly as possible went over a chalk-pit fifty feet deep.”
”Oh, Mr. Fletcher, I must get home; I cannot stay here all night; it is ridiculous.”
They talked so for a few minutes. Then amid many protestations Lady Edith was induced to dismount. He forced her to drink, and to continue sipping from his hunting-flask, which was fortunately full of brandy; and when she said she was no longer cold, he put his arm about her, and they talked of their sensations on first seeing each other.
Three small stones, two embedded in the ground, the third, a large flint, lay close where the gra.s.s began, and the form of a bush was faint on the heavy white blanket in which the world was wrapped. A rabbit crept through the furze and frightened them, and they heard the horses browsing.
Mike declared he could say when she had begun to like him.
”You remember you were standing by the sideboard holding your habit over your boots; I brought you a gla.s.s of champagne, and you looked at me....”
She told him of her troubles since she had left school. He related the story of his own precarious fortunes; and as they lay dreaming of each other, the sound of horse's hoofs came through the darkness.
”Oh, do cry out, perhaps they will be able to tell us the way.”
”Do you want to leave me?”
”No, no, but I must get home; what will father think?”
Mike shouted, and his shout was answered.
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