HEN I awoke next morning, my first thoughts were of a pair of brown eyes, dainty features that smiled up at me, and a voice that whispered as we danced for the last time together, “No, I shall not forget you when you are gone.”

Then, quickly, I remembered the sport before me, and the challenge to ride to the death with the rival who had crossed my path.

“Halfred,” I said.

The little man looked up from the pile of clothes he was folding in the early morning light, and stopped the gentle hissing that accompanied, and doubtless lightened, every task.

“Fasten my spurs on firmly,” I said. “I shall ride hard to-day.”

He cannot have noticed the grave note in my voice, for he replied, in his customary cheerful fashion, “If hevervthing sticks on as well as the spurs, sir, you won't 'ave nothin' to complain of.”

“I shall ride very hard, Halfred.”

“'Arder nor usual, sir?” he asked, with a look of greater interest.

“Vastly, immeasurably!”

“What's hup, sir?” he exclaimed, in some concern now.

“I have made a little bet with Mr. Lumme,” I answered in a serious voice, “a small wager that I shall be the first to catch the fox. If you can make a suggestion that may help me to win, I shall be happy to listen to it.”

“Catch the fox, sir?” he repeated, thoughtfully, scratching his head. “Well, sir, it seems to me there's nothin' for it but starting hoff first and not lettin' 'im catch you up. I 'aven't 'unted myself, sir, but I've 'eard tell as 'ow a sharp gent sometimes spots the fox afore any of the hothers. That's 'ow to do it, in my opinion.”

I thought this over and the scheme seemed excellent.

“We shall arrange it thus,” I said: “You will mount one horse and I the other. We shall ride together and look for the fox.”

Conceive of my servant's delight. I do not believe that if I had offered him a hundred pounds he would have felt so much joy.

I dressed myself with the most scrupulous accuracy, for I was resolved that nothing about me should suggest the novice. My pink coat fitted to within half a little wrinkle in an inconspicuous place, my breeches were a miracle of sartorial art, the reflection from my top-boots perceptibly lightened the room. No one at the breakfast-table cut more dash. I had secured a seat beside Miss Trevor-Hudson and we jested together with a friendliness that must have disturbed Lumme, for he watched us furtively, with a dark look on his face, and never addressed a word to a soul all the time.

“I shall expect you to give me a lead to-day,” she said to me.

“Are you well mounted?” I asked.

“I am riding my favorite gray.”

“Ride hard, then,” I said, loud enough for Lumme to hear me. “The lead I give will be a fast one!” Before breakfast was over we had been joined by guest after guest who had come for the meet. Outside the house carriages and dog-carts, spectators on foot, grooms with horses, and sportsmen who had already breakfasted were assembled in dozens, and the crowd was growing greater every moment. I adjusted my shining hat upon my head and went out to look for Halfred. There he was, the centre evidently of considerable interest and admiration, perched high upon one of the gigantic and noble quadrupeds, and grasping the other by the reins. His livery of deep-plum color, relieved by yellow cording, easily distinguished him from all other grooms, while my two steeds appeared scarcely to be able to restrain their generous impatience, for it required three villagers at the head of each to control their exhilaration.

“I congratulate you,” I said to my servant. “The tout ensemble is excellent.”

At that moment his mount began to plunge like a ship at sea, and the little man went up and down at such a rate that he could only gasp:

“'Old 'im, you there chaw-bacons! 'Old 'im tight! 'E won't 'urt you!”

In response to this petition the villagers leaped out of range and uttered incomprehensible sounds, much to my amusement. This, however, was quickly changed to concern when I observed my own steed suddenly stand upon end and flourish his fore-legs like a heraldic emblem.

“You have overfed them with oats,” I said to Halfred, severely.

“Oats be—” he began, and then pitched on to the mane, “oats be—” and here he just clutched the saddle in time to save himself from retiring over the tail—“oats be blowed!”

“It ain't oats that's the matter with 'em,” said a bluff voice behind me.

I turned and saw Sir Henry looking with an experienced eye at this performance.

“What is it?” I inquired.

“Vice,” said he. “I know that fiddle-headed brute well; no mistakin' him. It's the beast that broke poor Oswald's neck last season. His widow sold him to a dealer at Rugby for fifteen pounds, and, by Jove! here he is again, just waitin' for a chance to break yours!”

He turned his critical eye to Halfred's refractory steed.

“And I think I remember that dancin' stallion, too,” he added, grimly. “Gad! you'll have some fun to-day, monsieur!”

This was cheerful, but there was no getting out of it now. Indeed, the huntsman and the pack were already leading the way to the first covert and everybody was on the move behind them. I mounted my homicide during one of its calmer intervals, the villagers bolted out of the way, and in a moment we were clearing a course through the throng like a charge of cavalry.

“Steady there, steady!” bawled the master of the hunt. “Keep back, will you?”

With some difficulty I managed to take my mount plunging and sidling out to where Halfred was galloping in circles at a little distance from the rest of the field.

“Where are the hounds?” I cried. “Where is the fox?”

“In among them trees,” replied Halfred, as we galloped together towards the master.

“Let us go after them!” I exclaimed. “Lumme waits behind with the others. Now is our chance!”

“Come on, sir!” said Halfred, and we dashed past the master at a pace that scarcely gave us time to hear the encouraging cry with which he greeted us.

The wood was small, but the trees were densely packed, and it was only by the most miraculous good luck, aided also by skilful management, that we avoided injury from the branches. Somewhere before us we could hear the baying of the hounds, and we directed our course accordingly. Suddenly there arose a louder clamor and we caught a glimpse of white and tan forms leaping towards us. But we scarcely noticed these, for at that same instant we had espied a small, brown animal slipping away almost under our horses' feet.

“The fox!” cried Halfred.

“The fox!” I shouted, bending forward and aiming a blow at it with my whip.

With a loud cheer we turned and burst through the covert in hot pursuit, and, easily out-distancing the 'hounds, broke into the open with nothing before us but Reynard himself. Figure to yourself the sensation!

Ah, that I could inoculate you with some potent fluid that should set your blood on fire and make you feel the intoxication of that chase as you read my poor, bald words! Over a fence we went and descended on the other side, myself hatless, Halfred no longer perched upon the saddle, but clinging manfully to the more forward portions of his steed. Then, through a wide field of grass we tore. This field was lined all down the farther side by a hedge of thorns quite forty feet high, which the English call a “bulrush.” At one corner I observed a gate, and having never before charged such a barrier, I endeavored to direct my horse towards this. But no! He had seen the fox go through the hedge, and I believe he was inspired by as eager a desire to catch it as I was myself. I shut my eyes, I lowered my head, I felt my cheek torn by something sharp and heard a great crash of breaking branches, and then, behold! I was on the farther side! My spurs had instinctively been driven harder into my horse's flank, and though I had long since dropped my whip, they proved sufficient to encourage him to still greater exertions.

Finding that he was capable of directing his course unassisted, and perceiving also that he had taken the bit so firmly between his teeth as to preclude the possibility of my guiding him with any certainty, I discarded the reins (which of course were now unnecessary), and confined my attention to seeing that he should not be hampered by my slipping on my saddle. One brief glance over my shoulder showed me his stable companion following hard, in spite of the inconvenience of having to support his rider up on his neck, and racing alongside came the foremost hounds. Behind the pack were scattered in a long procession pink coats and galloping horses, dark habits and more galloping horses. I tried to pick out my rival, but at that instant my horse rose to another fence and my attention was distracted.

Another field, this time ploughed, and a stiffer job now for my good horse. Yet he would certainly have overtaken our quarry in a few minutes longer had he selected that part of the next fence I wished him to jump. But, alas! he must take it at its highest, and the ploughed field had proved too exhausting. We rose, there was a crash, and I have a dim recollection of wondering on which portion of my frame I should fall.

Then I knew no more till I found myself in the arms of the faithful Halfred, with neither horse, hounds, fox, nor huntsmen in sight.

“Did you catch it?” I asked.

“No, sir,” said he, “but I give it a rare fright.”

But I had scarcely heard these consoling words before I swooned again.