JOHNA.SEAVERNS 
 
3 9090 014 557 587 
 
 Webster Family Library of Veterinaiy Medicine 
 Cummjngs School of Veterinary Medicine at 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS 
 
MR. SPINKS 
 AND HIS HOUNDS 
 
 H IfMintino Stov^ 
 
 BY 
 
 F. M. LUTYENS 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 BY 
 
 C. LUTYENS AND THE AUTHOR 
 
 SECOND EDITION 
 
 Xon&on 
 
 VINTON & Co., Limited 
 9, NEW BRIDGE STREET, LUDGATE CIRCUS, E.G. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS 
 HOUNDS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 About the beginning of the reign of our gracious 
 sovereign, Queen Victoria, there hved in Cheapside a hair- 
 dresser, named Spinks. His shop was chiefly frequented 
 by men of business, many of whom were members of the 
 Stock Exchange. Of these he took a double advantage, 
 picking their brains at the same time as he clipped their 
 hair, something in the same way as the silversmith scrapes 
 two shillings' worth of silver off his lordship's forks, and 
 charges him eighteenpence for doing it. 
 
 The intelligence thus acutely acquired enabled him to 
 invest the substantial profits accruing from the sale of his 
 inimitable hair-wash to the best advantage ; and such was 
 his good fortune in the choice of investments that by the 
 time any ordinary hairdresser would have been merely in 
 comfortable circumstances, Spinks was very well advanced 
 into his second hundred thousand. 
 
 Notwithstanding this unprecedented success, he was loth 
 to retire from business. For the barber's shop is notori- 
 ously the home of wit and gossip, and, being a witty man 
 himself, he did not wish to risk losing the society of those 
 who might not care, under other circumstances, to admit 
 I 
 
2 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 him to a closer intimacy. His wealth, in short, did not 
 tempt him to try the upper rungs of the social ladder. He 
 would have dreaded nothing more than the solitary exis- 
 tence of the hermit whose untimely joke is born 
 " To waste its sweetness on the desert air." 
 In the recesses of his heart, however, there lay a hidden 
 force, an unknown quantity, that brought about this state 
 of equilibrium. Possibly he was unconscious of its action 
 upon himself, although perfectly aware that its influence 
 over his customers produced a beneficial effect upon his 
 business. 
 
 .jaA 
 
 5rXc: 
 
 The attraction that made itself thus felt was a beautiful 
 girl, Mary Hall by name, who stood behind the counter, 
 and had supreme control of the ladies' department. She 
 was a farmer's daughter, and till her eighteenth year had 
 lived upon the farm, imbibing pure air, pure milk, and 
 pure morals, when she came to London '' to better her- 
 self," as wholesome a young woman as could be found 
 between Land's End and John O'Groats. 
 
 Could we accurately describe the delicate form of her 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 3 
 
 nose, the dazzling depths of her bkie eyes, the dimpled 
 cheek, the rounded chin, the short curved lip, now 
 jealously guarding, now generously revealing its pearly 
 treasures, the richness of her colouring, and all the per- 
 fections of her features, we should still fail to give our 
 reader an -idea of the indescribable charm that pervaded 
 them, the charm of an innocence born, not of ignorance, 
 but of a wholesome use of a bright intelligence. " A 
 beauty " of whom it could be said : 
 
 " There were none to praise, 
 And very few to love." 
 
 is happily a rarity. In the smallest village community 
 which happens to contain a *' Lucy," there are generally 
 at least half a dozen swains eager to damage each other's 
 faces in her cause. Unfortunately for Mary, the Lord of 
 the Manor, a disreputable old nobleman, was to be counted 
 among her lovers. His attentions were odious to her 
 from the first, but when, three months after his wife's 
 death, he began to make what he protested were honour- 
 able proposals, she found his advances so intolerable that 
 she was compelled to place herself beyond his reach. 
 Her beauty was thus the actual, though not the ostensible, 
 cause of her coming to London. 
 
 For every rustic admirer she had a dozen in her new 
 home; but there was an indescribable something in her 
 face that kept them at a distance. They came, worshipped, 
 and went away, one and all treating her with the courtesy 
 which is the natural tribute paid to the true gentlewoman. 
 Imagine, then, her indignation and dismay one afternoon 
 in the early summer, after she had been nearly a year in 
 London, on seeing the bleared eyes of her persecutor 
 blinking at her across the counter. 
 
 She found it impossible to avoid his importunities ; to 
 return home was useless ; nor was it easy to find another 
 refuge at a moment's notice. The state of things had 
 
4 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 been for some time unbearable, when it was suddenly 
 brought to a climax. 
 
 Her lover had surprised her alone one evening in the 
 shop, and was on the point of taking by force what he 
 despaired of winning by persuasion, when Spinks appeared 
 in the doorway of the saloon. Instinctively she appealed 
 
 H 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 1 
 1 
 
 Jv-~v yy/f s \ /; _ 
 
 ^^^^^^¥ A -\ \x i^ y 'J A 
 
 to her employer for protection, and Spinks, with an 
 alacrity and a display of muscle which he afterwards con- 
 fessed surprised himself, seized his lordship by the collan 
 dragged him to the street-door, and precipitated him into 
 the gutter. The physical exertion alone might have made 
 the barber's heart beat ; but when Mary, her hair in 
 beautiful disorder, with tears in her eyes, and conscious 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 5 
 
 bluslies on her cheeks, told him the story of her tormentor, 
 the tremor of her hand in his suddenly revealed to him 
 the true cause of his heart's agitation. 
 
 " Happy the wooing that's not long a-doing." 
 
 Before the summer was gone the wedding bells were 
 pealing, and the following May our hero stepped upon 
 the scene. 
 
 We need not, however, trace the Spinks family to its 
 original source for the purposes of our story. It may be 
 taken for granted that the pedigree of Joey Spinks, our 
 hero, though unrecorded, is as long as any man's. Suffice 
 it to say that, after six years of matrimonial bliss, the elder 
 Spinks was gathered to his fathers, leaving behind him a 
 disconsolate widow and a princely fortune. The business 
 was sold, and Mrs. Spinks retired with her only child to a 
 villa she purchased at Roehampton. Here in the green 
 meadows, amidst her herd of soft-eyed Alderneys, her 
 heart went back to the scenes of her girlhood. Once 
 again, but now in rustling petticoats, she stepped between 
 the rows of brimming pails in her dairy, and taught the 
 astonished dairy-maid to churn. She did not care to go 
 much into society ; she preferred to know a few people 
 and to know those well. Her life was centred in her boy. 
 
 " Of him 
 By night she dreamed, and thought the livelong day." 
 
 So month after month slipped by, and Joey was old 
 enough to go to school ; but his mother's heart went from 
 her at the thought of being separated from her darling. 
 " Princes don't go to school," she argued with herself, 
 " they have tutors ; Joey shall have a tutor and be taught 
 at home." Her choice in this matter fell upon a Mr. 
 Price, who, though a scholar and a gentleman, was, 
 unfortunately for Joey's education, quite unfitted for the 
 charge he undertook. He would sit for hours before the 
 fire-place with his feet on the fender and his thoughts in 
 
6 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 the moon, oblivious of such sublunary matters as Joey and 
 his books, while his pupil was watching the thrush hop- 
 ping across the lawn in search of tiny tips of worms, or the 
 wagtail darting with unerring aim upon his little prey. 
 If a cat appeared among the laurels and Joey rushed out 
 calling on his dogs, the student perchance would start 
 
 
 from his reverie, recall and admonish the truant and 
 resume the task, but before long he was back again in the 
 moon, and Joey was left once more to his own devices. 
 As far as his pupil's education was concerned, the result of 
 Mr. Price's erudition was purely negative — Joey learned 
 no harm ; but it is possible that he may yet produce 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 7 
 
 something tliat will astonish the Hterary world and remove 
 the reproach of sterility. 
 
 Joey's favourite and chief companion was the coach- 
 man, George Bullock began life in a racing stable at 
 Newmarket ; from there he went into Lord Bulstrode's 
 
8 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 hunting establishment, where he was eventually promoted 
 to be his lordship's second horseman ; but in course of 
 time, having grown too heavy for his place, he took a 
 situation as coachman in London, and from there entered 
 the service of Mrs. Spinks. He soon gained the con- 
 fidence of his mistress and the affection of his young 
 master. He found no difficulty in teaching the latter to 
 ride, for good hands and a good seat seemed to come to 
 him by nature. There was not a ditch in Richmond Park 
 or on Wimbledon Common that was not negotiated by 
 Joey and his pony, who came at length to despise the 
 miniature leaping bar set up at the bottom of the meadow 
 which contained the Alderneys. 
 
 Bullock's conversation was of little else besides horses 
 and hunting, and, being a good word-painter, it is not to 
 be wondered at that his youthful listener gradually im- 
 bibed the enthusiasm of the ex-second horseman for his 
 favourite sport. One of Joey's greatest delights was to visit 
 the Royal Paddocks at Hampton Court, and, had he only 
 studied his books with half the avidity with which he 
 imbibed the instruction of Bullock and the stud groom, 
 he might soon have rivalled Mr. Price himself in a know- 
 ledge of the classics. 
 
 As Joey grew older, his sphere of activity increased. 
 The pony was succeeded by a fifteen hand thorough-bred, 
 and the boy came to be well known with "the Queen's" 
 and with the packs of foxhounds that came within reach. 
 While he was still in his teens, he and his bulky com- 
 panion were familiar figures at Tattersall's, and were often 
 to be seen competing with lords and dukes for light- 
 weight hunters in the sale-yard. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 It was Derby-day, and the twenty-first anniversary of 
 Joey's birth — an eventful epoch, for not only on that day 
 did he come into legal possession of the bulk of his 
 father's fortune, but, it so happened, he was unexpectedly 
 brought face to face with the opportunity of extracting 
 from the same the fullest possible enjoyment — what 
 seemed to him the summiiui boiiiini — of human existence. 
 
 On the morning of this auspicious day Joey was stand- 
 ing on the steps before the hall-door, between his mother 
 and a gentleman, whose costume, manners, and general 
 appearance were the envy and admiration of a select 
 few, who, like our hero, aspired to distinction in things 
 equestrian. 
 
 Captain Crichton — that was the name this gentleman 
 was generally known by — had made Joey's acquaintance 
 at Tattersall's, He was Joey's senior by some years, tall, 
 thin, though not slight, fair and not bad-looking. He 
 wore a moustache, whose weight seemed to account for 
 the heaviness of his eyelids ; and he had, either by nature 
 or affectation, a voice and manner as languid — and in 
 Joey's eyes as aristocratic — as it is possible to conceive. 
 During a chequered career he had had a considerable 
 experience of the ways of men and horses, by which he 
 was enabled to assume a superiority readily yielded by 
 a certain number of embryo sportsmen, who were proud 
 to call themselves his friends. 
 
lO 
 
 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Mrs. Spinks had, a few days before, availed herself of 
 Captain Crichton's experience, and commissioned him 
 to get her birthday present for her boy ; and the three 
 were now critically examining what was undoubtedly 
 the smartest " turn-out " south of the Thames. 
 
 " Give him one more turn round," said Joey ; and 
 Bullock, with becoming solemnity, put the cob through 
 
 his paces in the somewhat narrow space confined by the 
 house on one side and by the rhododendrons on the other. 
 Horse and trap were beyond criticism, and Joey and his 
 mother vied with one another in expressing their grati- 
 tude to the Captain, who, with languid modesty, and more 
 truth than either of them suspected, repeatedly assured 
 them the obligation was on his side. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS MOUNDS. I I 
 
 Bullock, having completed the circle, descended from 
 his seat, and Joey, taking the reins, mounted to his place ; 
 his friend got up on the other side. Bullock, by the help 
 of the luncheon-basket, with more agility and less dis- 
 turbance of the dog-cart's equilibrium than one might 
 have expected, seeing that his girth almost visibly in- 
 creased with his daily visits to the creamery, climbed on 
 to the back seat, Mrs. Spinks waved her hand, and the 
 dog-cart swept through the gateway on the road to 
 Epsom. 
 
 There had been a slight frost over night, which had 
 vanished beneath the beams of the sun like a thief before 
 the policeman's lantern, and now nature seemed to be 
 rejoicing at her escape from the clutches of her bur- 
 glarious foe. Birds were singing, buds were bursting, 
 lambs were bleating, human voices sounding merrily 
 along the road, while Joey, in the exuberance of his 
 spirits, chirruped to his horse as joyfully as the robin con- 
 verses with his mate. His companion — the one thing im- 
 perturbable amidst his animated surroundings — seemed 
 even to enhance the feeling of general content. 
 
 It was Joey's first Derby, for his mother, though she 
 encouraged his love of hunting and all other manly sports, 
 dreaded, perhaps not unwisely, that her boy, whose inno- 
 cence had been her chiefest care, should be exposed to the 
 perils of the Turf. As she watched him drive away in the 
 vehicle she herself had provided to carry him into temp- 
 tation, her heart misgave her, and she wondered if 
 Captain Crichton were the best companion for her 
 darling. 
 
 Joey had indulged what he considered his mother's 
 whim so far that he had never attended a race-meeting, 
 but his conscience had not extended her prohibition to 
 racing in the abstract ; and such was the assiduity with 
 which he studied Ruff's Guide and the newspaper reports 
 
12 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 that many a man who has been in every stand and pad- 
 dock in Great Britain might be envious of Joey's racing 
 knowledge. There was scarcely a horse in the Stud-Book 
 but Joey could tell you his pedigree off-hand ; the per- 
 formances of last year's two-year-olds were at his finger- 
 ends ; and any blank spaces in the mental picture that 
 he had drawn from sporting literature of the scene he 
 was now about to witness for the first time his glowing 
 imagination had filled in with the liveliest tints. 
 
 Many a time he had ridden over the Downs after the 
 Derby week ; and traced the history of the race upon the 
 classic ground ; and, as an antiquary in some future age 
 may endeavour to gauge the population of London by 
 the number of bricks strewn upon the site of that once 
 mighty city, he used to try to form an idea of the vastness 
 of the Derby crowd by the innumerable bits of paper and 
 broken glass scattered far and wide along the course. He 
 had been looking forward to the day of his emancipation, 
 and was now experiencing the sense of pride, responsi- 
 bility and independence felt by the new-made monitor at 
 a public school, or by the eaglet on taking his first flight 
 from his parent's nest. 
 
 " Mind where you're a-driving of, young man," cried a 
 costermonger, whose donkey had stuck up in the middle 
 of the road, and was blocking the thoroughfare, '' you'll 
 take all the paint off my wheel." 
 
 " You mind your donkey doesn't run away with you," 
 Joey retorted, as that animal, by a sudden aberration of 
 intellect, seemed as anxious to get forward as he had been 
 a moment before to stand still. 
 
 " If you take my advice, Mr. Curleyvig," the coster 
 shouted, as Joey rattled past him, "you won't give that 
 young man vat is sitting behind nothing out of that 
 basket, or your new springs vill break before you gets 
 home ! " 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 3 
 
 " He gets nothing but grass," shouted Joey, in return, 
 and drove on, laughing heartily at his own joke, while 
 Bullock, resenting the allusion to the size of his waist, 
 looked all the unutterable things at the grinning coster 
 that he dared not express. 
 
 All sorts and conditions of men and women, in every 
 kind of conveyance, on two wheels or four, hurrying to 
 one spot for one purpose, singing, shouting, laughing, 
 chaffing, getting as good or better than they gave in the 
 gayest humour and good-fellowship, thronged the road 
 While the captain treated the sallies he provoked with 
 consummate indifference, Joey had a cheery repartee for 
 the gipsy and the tramp. For that day, at any rate, they 
 were his equals. The love of sport was the touch of 
 Nature that made the whole world kin. 
 
 
 
 /A 
 
14 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 The Paddock was full. The Derby was the next race. 
 Knots of people gathered here and there round the horses, 
 which were being stripped. Joey had hurried from one 
 to the other, admiring this horse, finding fault with that, 
 and was standing looking at a bay colt who found but 
 few admirers. 
 
 Among the few who were watching the final touches 
 being put upon this colt was a man about thirty years of 
 age. He was tall, dark, slight, extremely handsome, and 
 dressed like a gentleman. 
 
 " Hulloa ! Crichton," he exclaimed, catching sight of 
 his friend as he turned round, "How are you? It's a 
 long time since I've seen you. What are you doing on 
 this race? Done any business lately?" 
 
 " Nothing to speak of," replied Crichton, loud enough 
 for Joey to hear; "I won a pony on the last race, but 
 more by good luck than anything else ; but let me intro- 
 duce you to my friend Spinks — Mr. Joseph Spinks — Lord 
 Unwin." 
 
 Joey and Lord Unwin shook hands, and renewed their 
 examination of the colt. 
 
 "A nice little horse, I like him immensely," said Joey. 
 
 "Ye-es," drawled Crichton, " he's a nice little horse, and 
 shows quality, but hasn't the size or stamina to make a 
 Derby-winner ; and he's not trained fine enough." 
 
 " His trainer is probably the best judge of that," said 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 5 
 
 Joey, at once proceeding to enumerate a number of small 
 horses which had won big races. He then recounted the 
 colt's engagements as a two-year-old, explained how he 
 came to get beaten the only time he ran, and went on to 
 argue that horses were more often over-galloped than 
 under-trained. "I've known," he said, "eight men train- 
 ing for a boat-race, all forced to take exactly the same 
 amount of exercise, the ten-stone man as lean as a herrin^^ 
 
 and the fourteen-stone " 
 
 "My dear Spinks," said Crichton, interrupting, "wait 
 till you've seen a few more horses in training, and you 
 will know more about it." 
 
 "Well," said Joey," still unconvinced, "you may be 
 right, but there's something wonderfully taking about 
 him; he looks the picture of health." 
 
 Crichton winked at Lord Unwin behind Joey's back, 
 and, taking out his betting-book as he spoke, said, " I'll 
 lay twenty-five to one against him if any one cares to 
 take it." 
 
 " Done ! " said his lordship, almost before the words 
 were out of his friend's mouth ; and they exchanged a 
 look of mutual understanding. 
 
 " Hundreds, I suppose," Crichton said carelessly, and 
 Lord Unwin nodded. 
 
 The colt was on the move again, so Joey and his two 
 companions continued their tour of inspection. 
 
 "There's bad news from my part of the world," said 
 Lord Unwin. " Have you heard that Johnson is leaving 
 the country, and giving up the hounds ? " 
 
 " That's a bad business," said Crichton ; " who's going 
 to take them ? " 
 
 " I wish I knew some one who would take them," 
 replied his lordship. "You see everyone is so hard up, 
 and the country is so infernally " — he was going to say 
 ''unpopular," but was stopped by the sudden impact of 
 
1 6 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Crichton's elbow under his fifth rib, and on looking up 
 saw an almost imperceptible glance of intelligence in his 
 friend's eye. 
 
 " The horses are going out," exclaimed Joey. " Come 
 along or we shall be late ! " and he started off and pushed 
 his way through the paddock entrance, fully believing 
 his two friends were at his heels. 
 
 "That isn't a bet," was Crichton's first remark when 
 Joey was out of hearing. 
 
 " Of course not, my dear chap, 1 understand that ; but 
 who's your friend ? " 
 
 " Our friend," said Crichton, with a laugh, " is the 
 new Master of the Bosby Hounds." 
 
 Lord Unwin was evidently puzzled, and, with his eye- 
 brows raised slightly, looked at his companion as if asking 
 if he were in earnest. The mute enquiry was answered 
 by a nod. Presently a light broke in upon his noble 
 mind, and his brow relaxed. " Money ? " he asked. 
 
 " Pots," was the laconic reply. 
 
 " Father ? " 
 
 " No. Mother." 
 
 " Trustees ? " 
 
 " None." 
 
 " He's too young," said Lord Unwin after a short 
 silence. 
 
 " He's big enough, anyhow, and rich enough," said 
 Crichton. " The younger the better for us." 
 
 " What's the mother like ? " 
 
 "The devil." 
 
 " What, ugly ? " 
 
 " No, sharp." 
 
 " Do you think you can manage her ? " 
 
 " If you can work the committee." 
 
 Dogs, or men, who are accustomed to hunt in couples 
 soon come to understand one another, and the two friends 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1/ 
 
 made such rapid progress with their scheme that it was 
 cut and ahnost dried by the time they rejoined Joey on 
 the hill. 
 
 The horse had been taken out of the dogcart, and Joey 
 was standing on the front seat watching the horses through 
 his glasses ^s they went down to the post. " Bullock^ 
 he's the best mover of the lot ! " he cried, with enthusiasm,, 
 and seeing Crichton added, " I advise you to hedge,. 
 Crichton." 
 
 " Thanks old chap, I don't think I shall come to much 
 harm — but come down, Unwin wants us to go to his 
 drag. He drove over with an old Yankee named Bond, 
 and a lovely daughter. There's lots of room, and you 
 will see the race far better than from here. Come along, 
 your trap will be all right if Bullock only takes half the 
 care of it he takes of himself." 
 
 Bullock, who was busily engaged at the back of the 
 dogcart accounting for the remains of the luncheon, and 
 who instinctively regarded "the Capting" as an enemy,, 
 was restrained from retorting by a large mouthful of foie- 
 gras, and could only mutter something about taking care 
 of something or other, as Joey descended and followed 
 his two friends through the maze of carriages. 
 
 Mr. Bond was a commanding figure as he stood beside 
 his daughter on the box-seat of his coach. He wore his 
 iron-grey hair rather long and brushed back from his 
 forehead, and a goatee beard, and had in a marked degree 
 the high cheekbones and prominent features charac- 
 teristic of his race. His grey eye had that expression 
 which seems to come from pride of birth and long com- 
 mand of men. His sixty years sat lightly on his upright 
 frame. Miss Bond smiled as Lord Unwin apologised to 
 her for the liberty he had taken in asking for standing 
 room for his two friends, and assured him that she and 
 her father were delighted to see them. 
 
 2 
 
1 8 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " May they come up, sir," Lord Unwin asked of Mr. 
 Bond. 
 
 "Come up? my dear Unwin; of course they may. 
 Captain Crichton, proud to make your acquaintance. Get 
 up here, sir, behind me, you couldn't have a better place. 
 Mr. Spinks, you're welcome ; all good sportsmen are 
 welcome here. Jessie make room for Mr. Spinks beside 
 you. My daughter, Mr. Spinks. Unwin look after your 
 friends ; you know where to find anything you want. 
 What a scene ! Superb ! We have nothing to equal this 
 in our country, but we have the same blood in us, the 
 same love of sport and of fair play." 
 
 "They are off !" shouted Joey, who had forgotten the 
 fair American, and breathless with excitement, was trying 
 all he could to keep his glasses fixed on 'the field.' 
 The bell rings, and a myriad voices drop, as it were, 
 to a whisper. Then a murmur rises in the distance, at 
 first like that of a swarm of bees, but growing louder as 
 it comes nearer, and swelling into the roar of " here they 
 come 1 " Joey can distinguish the colours as they swing 
 round Tattenham Corner. 
 
 " They are all together," he exclaims, " my horse is 
 next to the rails ; there's one beaten, can't tell which it 
 is, and another. There are only five in it ; the favourite 
 wins. No, my horse is holding him ! " 
 
 The jockeys pick up their whips. The favourite ! the 
 favourite wins ! There is only one horse near him. It is 
 Joey's outsider, and he is coming up. They are within 
 twenty yards of the post ; the jockeys are riding all they 
 know, neck and neck, stride for stride, and amid a terrific 
 uproar they pass the post. The shout of triumph from 
 " the ring " anticipates the hoisting of the outsider's 
 number. 
 
19 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " My horse has won ! my horse has won ! " cried the 
 excited Joey, " I said he would, didn't I, Crichton ? " 
 Then, remembering his friend's heavy wager, added 
 quickly, " But, by Jove, I'm awfully sorry, I'm afraid you 
 have dropped a lot of money." 
 
 " Only a trifle," drawled Crichton, with more imper- 
 turbability than usual, " my book was pretty well made. 
 I might say I missed winning something considerable ; 
 but I must congratulate you, my dear Spinks, on your 
 extraordinary good judgment, and ask you to accept my 
 apologies. 1 assure you, sir," he went on, turning to Mr. 
 Bond, " Spinks is a wonderful judge of a horse, I shan't 
 be a bit surprised to see him carrying off the blue ribbon 
 himself one of these days." 
 
 Crichton's equanimity under such crushing misfortune, 
 his handsome apology and generous tribute to his 
 friend, had their designed effect upon Mr. Bond and his 
 daughter, and raised Joey's opinion of him higher than 
 ever. Such praise in the presence of such beauty ! Did 
 Jonathan ever do as much for David, Damon for Pythias, 
 or any other hero of antiquity for his bosom friend ? 
 
 There was little chance of conversation lagging in the 
 presence of Miss Jessie Bond. Her capacity for enjoy- 
 ment and superabundant spirit and vivacity seemed to be 
 contagious ; even the Captain relaxed his habit of in- 
 difference beneath her spell. She was devoted to all 
 animals, she told Joey. They had lots of horses in 
 
20 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 America, but her father did not bring any with him to 
 Spetchley — that was the name of the place he had 
 rented at Bosby — but he was going to buy some before 
 the winter, as she had set her heart upon hunting. Mr. 
 Johnson, however, was giving up the hounds, and there 
 seemed, unfortunately, some difficulty about getting a new 
 master. If would be a terrible pity if no one could be 
 found to keep them on. She wanted her father to take 
 them, but he said he knew nothing about the business. 
 She guessed he would soon learn if he put his mind to it. 
 
 The young lady had come across a sympathetic spirit in 
 Joey, whose tongue fairly ran away with him when they 
 got upon the subject of horses and hunting. She was 
 amused at first by the enthusiasm with which he rode 
 his hobby, but soon became genuinely interested in the 
 vivid descriptions of his favourite sport, which, flattered 
 and encouraged by the attentive attitude of his beautiful 
 pupil, Joey delivered with all the confidence of a pro- 
 fessor lecturing upon his particular branch of the arts. 
 
 Meanwhile the other occupants of the coach were 
 discussing the prospects of the Bosby Hunt, and the two 
 younger men were cautiously advancing their design by 
 enlarging on their friend's prowess in the hunting-field, in 
 the hope of finding an opening to suggest him as a pos- 
 sible successor to Mr. Johnson. 
 
 Some of my readers will, perhaps, confess to having 
 experienced a sense of relief when some horseman, more 
 enterprising or better mounted than themselves, has 
 opportunely made a hole in a dangerous-looking fence, 
 and may remember with what alacrity they availed them- 
 selves of their unexpected good fortune. They can 
 imagine, then, with what feelings the Captain and his 
 confederate overheard Miss Bond make the following 
 remark : " Oh, Mr. Spinks, why don't yon take the 
 hounds ? It would be perfectly lovely ! " 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 2 1 
 
 In an instant Crichton rode into the gap. '' By Jove, 
 Unwin, there's the very man for you ! What do you say, 
 Mr. Bond ? " 
 
 The gentleman thus appealed to was as yet not even a 
 member of the hunt, although he had expressed his 
 willingness, when called upon to do so, to give a hand- 
 some subscription towards it, and could have no possible 
 objection to the proposal, which was accordingly carried 
 by acclamation. 
 
 It is not easy to imagine the sensations of the crossing- 
 sweeper who awoke one morning to find himself a million- 
 aire, but it is doubtful if his senses were more completely 
 scattered than Joey's were by this sudden and unexpected 
 proposition. His colour went and came; speech left 
 him ; his eyes automatically reflected the close finish of 
 another race, but conveyed no impression to his brain ; 
 the drums of his ears vibrated to the shouts around him, 
 but he heard nothing ; his soul was transported as if by 
 the spell of a Mahatma into a visionary future, or, like that 
 of an Indian chief, had departed to the happy hunting 
 grounds reserved for the spirits of the blest. On returning 
 to a state of semi-consciousness, he heard Lord Unwin 
 saying : " If I may make use of your name, Mr. Bond, I 
 venture to promise the committee will adopt my sugges- 
 tion. Our chief anxiety will be to get Mr. Spinks to give 
 his consent." 
 
 Joey felt it was necessary for him to speak, and stam- 
 mered something about the great honour conferred upon 
 him, his willingness to accede to the proposal as far as 
 his personal wishes were concerned, and the necessity of 
 consulting his mother before coming to any final decision. 
 
 Miss Bond, who, with feminine tact, understood the em- 
 barrassment of which her father was perfectly uncon- 
 scious, hereupon proposed that they should all go in a 
 body to the Paddock. There, once more among the 
 
22 
 
 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 horses, Joey soon recovered his self-possession, and it was 
 not long before he admitted his sympathetic companion 
 to his fullest confidence. By the time they were ready to 
 return to the coach she knew all about his mother and 
 his money, Bullock and his horses, his past experiences 
 and his hopes for the future. 
 
 -L~.. ^ 
 
 c c 
 
 On the way back to '* the hill " she expressed a wish to 
 see his mothers' birthday present, and they bent their 
 steps to the spot where the faithful Bullock had been left 
 in charge. 
 
 " Of course," explained Joey, "you won't see the cob, 
 but you will see the dog-cart and Bullock." 
 
 The cart was there, but Bullock was nowhere to be 
 seen. In his place was a small boy leisurely licking the 
 sauce from a dish that had lately contained a lobster salad 
 — who, on Joey's approach, hastily decamped without 
 giving the desired information as to Bullock's where- 
 abouts. A stir of excitement in the crowd not far off 
 attracted their attention, and there the truant was dis- 
 
MR. SriNKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 23 
 
 covered in a state of frantic rage and profuse perspiration, 
 jumping on the remnants of a three-legged stool, and an 
 emblazoned banner that had formed the sole stock-in- 
 trade of a departed welsher. 
 
 " He's got my money," screamed Bullock, on catching 
 sight of his master, " the scoundrel's got my money ! I 
 backed yoiir horse, Mr. Joseph, and put my winnings on 
 the last race, and when he saw me coming he hooked it ! " 
 and seizing the banner the disappointed gambler tore it 
 into shreds. 
 
 " Never mind the money," said Joey, ready to sink into 
 the earth after all he had told Miss Bond about his " per- 
 fect treasure." " Go and get the cob : I'm going home." 
 
 " Well, if you will mot be persuaded to stay," said Miss 
 Bond, holding out her hand to Joey, " I must say good- 
 bye, and many thanks for your lessons in fox-hunting ; you 
 will see that I shall profit by them. Mind you come and 
 see us if you are in town ; at any rate I expect we shall 
 meet before long at Bosby." Thus saying, she bowed to 
 Captain Crichton and followed Lord Unwin and her 
 father to the coach. 
 
 " By George," Crichton exclaimed, as soon as they 
 were out of hearing, " that brute Bullock ! It's too bad 
 that you should be punished for his beastly stupidity ! " 
 
 " How do you mean ? " asked Joey. 
 
 " If you can't see how, there's no use my telling you. 
 What do you suppose Lord Unwin will think of you ? 
 Do you think he will propose you as a candidate for the 
 mastership of a hunt like the ' Bosby ' after what he has 
 just seen ? ' Like master like man ' is the way the world 
 judges of these things. If your servant behaves like that, 
 how are you likely to manage a hunt ? Old Bond is no 
 fool ; he won't have anything to do with the business, 
 when he sees your man-servant treats you like a child, and 
 without the slightest respect — before Miss Bond too ! 
 
24 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 By George, Spinks, you must get rid of him, you really 
 must, that is if you want to be a master of hounds." 
 
 " But I don't see," Joey began to plead. 
 
 "Of course you don't," Crichton said sharply, with 
 crushing effrontery ; " but if you had been accustomed to 
 any other society than Bullock's you would be able to — 
 but here he comes ; let him see that this kind of thing is 
 not to be tolerated," 
 
 Bullock came up leading the cob. " If I had thought, 
 Mr. Joseph — " he began, but his intended apology was 
 cut short with " Put him in and hold your tongue ; I 
 don't intend to have any more of your impudence ! " 
 
 Bullock cast a reproachful glance, like an ill-used dog, 
 at his master, and proceeded to back the cob between 
 the shafts. 
 
 They drove home in silence. What a change from 
 the morning ! No fun, no laughter, no chirruping, but 
 sad hearts and long faces ! Crichton, never very com- 
 municative at any time, had every reason to be satisfied 
 with his day's work, and, not seeing how he could im- 
 prove matters by saying anything, was content to remain 
 silent. The mercury in Joey's tubes had fallen to zero, 
 the glory of the day had departed and the brilliant 
 prospect that but an hour ago had stretched unbroken 
 to the horizon was now wrapped in the blackest clouds. 
 The unhappy cause of this depression sat behind, brood- 
 ing over his own sorrow. His pecuniary loss was for- 
 gotten ; it was the words " no more of his impudence " 
 that swelled within his breast. He loved the boy as his 
 own son ; he could have died for him ; and now, where he 
 might have expected sympathy he got " no more of his 
 impudence." He knew his enemy "the Capting" was 
 at the bottom of it, and but for his presence would have 
 opened his grief to his young master, and there and then 
 effected a reconciliation. 
 
25 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 One morning, at the end of the week following the events 
 related in our last chapter, Mrs. Spinks and Crichton 
 were walking together in the garden at Roehampton. *' I 
 cannot understand," the latter was saying, "what objection 
 you can have to Lord Unwin, or why your objection to him 
 should prevent your son accepting the mastership. The 
 offer comes from the committee, and, although he is one 
 of the committee, you are certainly under no obligation 
 to him. The obligation is quite the other way. It is no 
 easy matter to find anyone who is willing to hunt the 
 Bosby country. Whoever does it must have the money 
 to spend, and those who have the money prefer a country 
 with a more fashionable and a better sporting reputation. 
 The expenses of a crack hunting establishment in the 
 shires are much greater, and the management requires 
 more experience than your son has had. He would be 
 sure to get into difficulties if he attempted such a thing, 
 whereas with the Bosby all this is reduced to a miminum ; 
 he will step straight into Mr. Johnson's shoes, and the 
 thing will manage itself. He will have employment to 
 keep him out of mischief, which — you will forgive me 
 for saying it — is most important at his age ; the expense 
 will be very moderate, his position in county society 
 will be assured, and, above all, he will gain experience 
 that will be invaluable to him in after life; and, if my 
 assistance is worth anything, I shall be only too happy to 
 place my services at his disposal until he feels strong 
 enough to be quite independent." 
 
26 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 "All your arguments, Captain Crichton — and I allow 
 they are good ones — do not alter my opinion of Lord 
 Unwin. It will be impossible to avoid him if we go to 
 Bosby, and my aversion to him is so great that 1 abso- 
 lutely refuse to bring my son in any way under his 
 influence," 
 
 " Under his influence ! Excuse me, my dear Mrs. 
 Spinks, I have no intention of being rude, but you argue 
 like a woman. You dislike a man whom you have never 
 even seen, and against whom you can bring no specific 
 charge, and then refuse to bring your son under his in- 
 fluence when there is no possibility or question of his 
 coming under his influence at all. Lord Unwin is a friend 
 of mine, and a gentleman, and 1 assure you if there were 
 anything against his character 1 should be aware of it. 
 You must, of course, make some allowance for the 
 temptations a man in his position, and as good-looking 
 as he is, is exposed to. He has not much of this world's 
 goods, true ; but poverty, even in a lord, is not a crime, 
 and 1 am sure you would be the last person in the world 
 to judge a man by the length of his purse. As for his 
 influence, he has no control whatever over the manage- 
 ment of the hunt, and 1 am quite sure that the slightest 
 hint that any attentions on his part would be unacceptable 
 will be sufficient to keep him away. If you would prefer 
 it — I don't wish to force my services upon you — I will 
 give him to understand that you would rather he did not 
 even call upon you. There need be no disagreeables, and, 
 if necessary, some harmless excuse can be invented to 
 account for your not knowing one another." 
 
 "You are very kind," replied the lady, weighing the 
 possibilities of his last suggestion, " but there is no need 
 to invent anything ; if without giving offence you can let 
 Lord Unwin know that " 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 2 7 
 
 "Of course I can," Crichton eagerly interposed; "if 
 you will leave it to my discretion, you need not have the 
 slightest cause for uneasiness. I am really delighted that 
 you have given your consent, and must hasten to tell Joey 
 of my success. Will you excuse me for dinner to-night," 
 he added, as he turned to go; "I have an appointment in 
 town, and am afraid my business may detain me up to a 
 late hour," 
 
 Joey, who had been watching them from the house, felt 
 like a prisoner awaiting the verdict of the jury. On hear- 
 ing the result of the prolonged interview, he was profuse 
 in the expression of his gratitude, considering it a proof — 
 if further proof were needed — of Crichton's disinterested 
 friendship. 
 
 The moment Crichton left her Mrs. Spinks regretted 
 having given her consent. She turned to recall him, but 
 he had already reached the house. She disliked Lord 
 Unwin, and mistrusted Crichton. His arguments were 
 specious, his words smooth, his face inscrutable, but his 
 motives, she feared, were self-interested, though she knew 
 not how they could be so. She passed up and down the 
 gravel walk, trying to analyze her feelings and bring them 
 to the test of reason. The struggle lay between her wishes 
 and her fears ; she wished to gratify her boy, she feared 
 to bring him into trouble — what trouble ? Her fears were 
 vague, her wishes were strong, and by degrees the latter 
 prevailed. Her heart grew lighter, and the joy that 
 beamed from Joey's eyes as he thanked her removed any 
 foreboding that still lingered in her mind. 
 
 That afternoon Joey posted a letter to the committee of 
 the Bosby Hunt, saying that, provided he liked the country 
 after he had seen it (and he had very little doubt on that 
 point), he was willing to agree to their terms and accept 
 the mastership. 
 
 On his return after posting the letter — for he would not 
 
28 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 trust it to other hands — he found Bullock in the stable- 
 yard. The welsher episode had long passed from Joey's 
 recollection ; but Bullock, constantly irritated and goaded 
 by the sight of Crichton, who had been staying in the 
 house ever since that unfortunate occurrence, still had 
 the sense of injured innocence rankling in his breast. 
 Consequently, Joey's exultation as he announced the all- 
 important fact that he had posted the letter evoked no 
 response from his injured and faithful servant. He looked 
 in vain for the congratulations he expected, tried again 
 and again to coax him into good humour by dilating on 
 the prospects of the coming winter, and at last, little 
 suspecting the cause of Bullock's trouble, fanned the 
 smouldering spark into a flame by declaring that he was 
 indebted for his good fortune to Captain Crichton. " It 
 was the last straw that gave the camel the hump," as Mrs. 
 Malaprop might have said, and this praise of his arch- 
 enemy was too much for the already over loaded Bullock. 
 '' The Capting," he shouted, flinging down a carriage lamp 
 that he was carrying. " I say d — n the Capting ! " with 
 which he rushed into the harness-room and banged the 
 door. 
 
 Joey's first thought was that it was meant for a joke, 
 but his common sense told him that Bullock was in- 
 capable of such a consummate piece of acting. He then 
 wondered if he were drunk, but soon came to the conclu- 
 sion that that also was impossible. Finally, incensed and 
 pained as he was by such unwarrantable behaviour on the 
 part of his old and valued friend, he nevertheless believed 
 that there must be some rational explanation of his con- 
 duct, and, determined to find out what it was, tried to 
 open the door of the harness-room; but the key was 
 turned in the lock, and his attempts to force an entrance 
 were answered by a sullen roar from within, in which 
 the only articulate sound was the " Capting." After some 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 29 
 
 minutes spent in fruitless knocking and entreaty Joey 
 returned to the house, persuaded that Crichton was right, 
 his mother had spoilt Bullock — with the best intentions, 
 no doubt — but the time had come to assert his authority. 
 It was his attempt to do this that had upset Bullock ; 
 such a state of things must not be allowed to continue ; 
 unless Bullock apologised and reformed he must go. 
 
 It was ten o'clock before Crichton returned from town. 
 Mrs. Spinks had left the drawing-room, so he and Joey 
 retired to the smoking-room to discuss the necessary 
 preparations for taking over the hounds. Crichton sank 
 into an armchair, lit one of his host's cigars, crossed his 
 legs, and with half-closed eyes watched the fragrant rings 
 that floated above his head. 
 
 "I've written the letter," Joey began. 
 
 " That's right, my dear Spinks ; I congratulate you." 
 
 " But," Joey went on, " I have told the committee 1 
 will not decide finally till I have seen the country." 
 
30 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " What the deuce — pardon me — but what in the world 
 is the good of your seeing the country ? You had much 
 better take Unwin's word for it, you will only expose your 
 ignorance and your youth by going down there." 
 
 " I can't help that," Joey insisted, " only an idiot would 
 undertake to hunt a country he had never seen. There is 
 no doubt about its being satisfactory, for in my present 
 state of mind I should be pleased with anything. If you 
 would go with me " 
 
 " Of course I shall be delighted, my dear fellow, when 
 I have time. The only serious objection is to your going 
 down alone ; but I don't want you to let them slip 
 through your fingers. It would have been better to 
 accept the of¥er at once, and we could have gone down 
 any time later on and had a look round. But, by-the-by, 
 I did a good stroke of business this afternoon. I went to 
 see Unwin, and whilst I was with him who should come 
 in but Lord Bulstrode's stud-groom. He came to tell 
 Unwm that he is leaving his present place, and would like 
 to get a good situation. I at once thought of you. He 
 is a first-rate man, and is sure to be snatched up at once. 
 Of course I couldn't engage him positively without con- 
 sulting you ; as it is, I am afraid I have taken too much 
 upon myself, for I told him to come and see you to- 
 morrow morning at nine o'clock." 
 
 " It is awfully kind of you, Crichton, and I don't want 
 you to think for one moment that I am offended ; but I 
 had quite intended to make Bullock my stud-groom. 
 You see, he has been with us a great many years, I could 
 hardly turn him away, and he knows all about hunting." 
 
 Crichton opened his eyes and stared at Joey in a 
 manner that made him feel rather small and extremely 
 uncomfortable. 
 
 " Knows all about hunting, my dear boy ! Where did he 
 acquire this wonderful knowledge ? " 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 3 1 
 
 " He was with Lord Bulstrode," said Joey, thinking he 
 had scored one. 
 
 " In what capacity, pray ? " Crichton asked, in a tone of 
 amused mockery. 
 
 "As second horseman," Joey repHed, feehng that the 
 tables were again turned. 
 
 A shrug of the shoulders was deemed a sufficient 
 answer, and they relapsed into silence. 
 
 " I know poor old Bullock has his faults," Joey pre- 
 sently began, " but my mother would never consent to 
 part with him. He has his faults," he repeated, and hesi- 
 tated before he went on again ; " he was confoundedly rude 
 to me this afternoon." 
 
 He then related what had occurred while Crichton 
 was away, without saying that the mentioning of Crich- 
 ton's name was the original cause of the incident. When 
 he had finished his story Crichton said, " I cannot say 
 more than I have said already. If you take my advice 
 you will let him go ; but if your mother absolutely refuses 
 to part with him, why couldn't he remain as her servant 
 without having anything to do with your part of the 
 establishment ? " 
 
 This seemed a happy compromise, and Joey retired to 
 rest confident that he had found a solution of the difficulty. 
 
 Punctually at nine o'clock the following morning, Mr. 
 Dawkins was shown into Joey's business room. He was 
 a small hard-bitten bit of stuff, quietly dressed, respectful 
 in his manner, quick and intelligent. He answered all 
 Joey's questions in a straightforward way. " How old are 
 you ? " " Forty-two." " How long have you been w^ith 
 Lord Bulstrode ? " "I went there as a lad of sixteen. 
 His lordship always had the best 'osses that money could 
 buy," he said, in answer to the Captain, " and there was 
 never one missed his turn the whole time I had charge of 
 them ; of course there was accidents — I don't count them." 
 
 i' Why are you leaving ? " was Joey's next question. 
 
32 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " Well, you see, sir, I wanted to be with a younger 
 gentleman ; his lordship don't ride like he used, and is 
 reducing his stud, and the 'osses he has now are not quite 
 what I've been accustomed to. I thought I should like, 
 sir, to be with a gentleman that is a really good horseman 
 and means business." 
 
 Joey paused, thinking what he should ask next. 
 
 " I don't think," said Crichton, " there is anything more 
 you want to know." 
 
 " No, perhaps not. Of course Lord Bulstrode will give 
 him a character ? " 
 
 " If you think it's necessary, but Unwin is Bulstrode's 
 nephew, and knows all about him." 
 
 Here Dawkins interposed, "You will excuse me, sir, but 
 as I said to Lord Unwin last night, his lordship has 
 always been a good friend to me, and I should like to act 
 fair by him and by you too, sir ; but I got this letter this 
 morning " (and he drew an envelope from his breast 
 pocket), " engaging me if I would accept ; but, as I said, 
 I won't go back on my word to his lordship, and have 
 come down here to give you the first refusal." 
 
 " What wages are you asking ? " 
 
 " I've been getting a hundred a year, sir, besides extras, 
 and considering my long experience I might look to better 
 myself ; but as you seem to be the sort of gentleman I am 
 looking for, I won't say nothing more about that." 
 
 As Joey seemed to hesitate about accepting these terms, 
 Crichton said, " My dear Spinks, if you will have a Rem- 
 brandt you must pay for it ! " to which remark Dawkins 
 added, '' Them old masters, I believe, are very expensive." 
 
 "Yes," said Joey, " but I'm not sure I can afford to 
 indulge in such luxuries." 
 
 "We are all agreed," said Crichton, "that you cannot 
 run a hunt for nothing. Economise in trifles if you like, 
 but, believe me, a good stud-groom is by far the most 
 economical in the long run." • 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 33 
 
 This argument being obviously a sound one, Joey 
 agreed to the terms without furthur discussion, and asked 
 Dawkins if he had a wife and family. 
 
 " No sir ; you see I don't think a man like me ought 
 to marry. 'Osses require a man's individed attention, 
 morning, noon and night. Now, of course, a man is 
 bound to pay his wife some little attention, as the saying 
 is, and what he gives to his wife he must take away from 
 his 'osses." 
 
 r 
 
 r 
 
 c 
 
 \ 
 
 \ 
 
 sr 
 
 
 (' -)/ '1 o y^, { 
 
 ^ M 
 
 Joey could not help comparing this picture of a paragon 
 with that of the fat Bullock lounging in the creamery. 
 
 " Very well," he said, " I shall be glad to engage you. 
 You will hear from me shortly when you are to go 
 to Bosby. 1 think I shall be able to take the lease of 
 
 3 
 
34 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Bosby Hall. If so, you will find every accommodation 
 for yourself and the horses. Good morning." 
 
 Bullock caught sight of Dawkins as the latter made his 
 exit through the back gate, and watched him as he went 
 down the road. The figure was familiar — " Dawkins ! " 
 he exclaimed, as its identity recurred to him — "the devil ! 
 George, old man, there's bad times in store for you." 
 
35 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 On the third day after Joey had despatched his letter to 
 the Committee, the morning post brought a letter of 
 thanks from them, and another from Mr. Johnson, in- 
 viting him to Bosby to see the kennels. Mr. Johnson 
 regretted that he was obliged to leave home for good at 
 the end of the week, but hoped that Joey would be able 
 to come down the next day, or the day after at the latest. 
 In case this were not convenient, and he preferred to come 
 down later on, he begged he would use the house and 
 servants as if they were his own. " If," the letter went 
 on, '' you would like to take the lease of Bosby Hall, I 
 shall be delighted to meet your wishes in any way I can. 
 My agent, Mr. Brain, will furnish you with all particulars. 
 As I hear from Mr. Bond that you are a good sportsman 
 and a keen fox-hunter, I feel confident that the kennels, the 
 hounds, and Peters, my old huntsman, will meet with your 
 approval. They are old-fashioned, perhaps, according to 
 modern lights — ' old-fashioned but not antique,' as the 
 furniture dealers say. As I hope, however, to see you 
 to-morrow or next day, I will say no more about them at 
 present." 
 
 Most unfortunately, Crichton was engaged ; his busi- 
 ness was of paramount importance, and it was quite 
 impossible for him to leave town. 
 
 Joey, remembering what Crichton had said about his 
 exposing his ignorance, was afraid to go down by himself. 
 
36 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 He had no idea what sort of man Mr. Johnson was. It 
 was, after all, not imperative that they should meet ; much 
 could be done through his agent, the rest by letter. So 
 he decided to wait till the following Monday, when Crich- 
 ton would be disengaged, and wrote to Mr. Johnson re- 
 gretting he could not manage to go that week. ** I feel 
 sure," he wrote, " that I shall find the kennels, the hounds, 
 and Peters all you describe them when I see them on 
 Monday, and I hope to arrange with Mr. Brain for the 
 lease of Bosby Hall." 
 
 About noon, on the day appointed, Joey and Crichton 
 found themselves on the platform of the railway station 
 nearest to the village of Bosby. As they emerged from 
 the booking office they were accosted by a queer-looking 
 man in a shabby station-cart, with a broken down old 
 hunter between the shafts. With one eye on Crichton 
 and the other somewhere on the roof of the station^ 
 this individual touched his cat-skin cap and ejaculated 
 " Spinks ? " 
 
 " Is this Mr. Johnson's carriage ? " Joey asked. 
 
 The eye that had rested on Crichton was turned on 
 to Joey, the other towards the sun, at which it watered and 
 blinked, and their owner said " cart." 
 
 " I am Mr, Spinks," said Joey. 
 
 As this was an observation that did not require a verbal 
 answer, the driver indicated by a sign that they had better 
 get up, and, pointing to the horse, said " stumbles," which 
 apparently meant that he was going to drive, and that 
 either Joey or his friend would have to take the back seat. 
 This led to an altercation, the end of which was that Joey, 
 in his capacity of M.F.H., took his place beside the coach- 
 man, while Crichton hooked his arm over the back-rest. 
 
 "Kennels?" said the coachman, in a tone of enquiry. 
 Joey, unable to determine by the direction of the eye 
 for whom the question was intended, looked at his friend, 
 who said, " Yes, drive to the kennels." 
 
MR.. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 37 
 
 " How far is it ? " asked Joey, as they were jolting 
 slowly along the badly kept road. 
 
 " Five and a half." 
 
 " Are they near the Hall ? " 
 
 " Quarter." 
 
 " Mr. Johnson is not at home, I suppose ? " 
 
 A jerk of the driver's head away from the sun implied 
 that the gentleman in question had gone north. 
 
 " Is this the carriage Mr. Johnson generally sends to 
 meet his guests ? " said Crichton. 
 
 " Horses — carriages — coachman — " and a jerk of the 
 head northwards after each w^ord explained that the 
 articles mentioned had either preceded or followed their 
 owner. 
 
 Amused by the conciseness of the fellow's answers, 
 which were sufficient for all practical purposes, and, 
 moreover, without a suspicion of incivility, Joey pro- 
 ceeded to catechise him more closely on points relating 
 to the hunt. 
 
 " Are there plenty of foxes about ? " 
 
 " If you can find 'em." 
 
 "Can Peters find them?" 
 
 " Find anything — from a flea to a helephant." 
 
 '' Can he ride ? " 
 
 "He won't walk." 
 
 " What sort of man is he ? " 
 
 ^' Rum 'un." 
 
 " What do you mean by a rum 'un ? " 
 
 " Temper." 
 
 " How old is he ? " 
 
 " Nobody knows," and the man chuckled internally 
 without moving a muscle of his face. 
 
 " Mr, Johnson's a very kind man, isn't he ? " 
 
 Now Sam, for such was the only name by which the 
 kennel-feeder was known, was one of a class, of which 
 
38 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 the ordinary London " cabby " is a good specimen, who 
 seem to think a waste of words is a criminal expenditure 
 of the breath of hfe. They appear almost to believe that 
 they are predestined to utter only a fixed number of 
 words in the course of their existence, and that every 
 word spoken hastens the approaching end. But all of 
 us, even the most taciturn and phlegmatic, have some 
 weak spot in our armour through which a chance arrow 
 may let loose a flood of eloquence. When this happens 
 we are said to be riding our hobby, and Joey's last ques- 
 tion seemed, as it were, to have removed some obstruction 
 in the pipes of Sam's vocal organ, for the words which 
 till now had fallen drop by drop, suddenly gushed forth 
 in a tumultuous torrent. 
 
 " A kind man ! I say he's a good man, as good a man 
 as ever was. If there was more like him there would be 
 less poverty and less sorrow. Many a time have I felt 
 his skin,* and many's the kind word as has made me feel 
 that life was worth living. Lor', sir, when my wife died, 
 and it was this month eleven year ago, he might have 
 been my brother — Come up 'os ! " The old hunter had 
 stumbled, and rushed on expecting the usual cut from the 
 whip, but the lash didn't fall this time, and Sam went on. 
 " But he could be hard, too, sir — no, not hard, that ain't 
 the word — strict, he could be strict. I would rather be 
 left in a strange kennel and no whip than do anything 
 to bring that look into his eye. Why, they worship him 
 almost down in the village yonder ; there's old Smither, 
 before his foot got as bad as what it is now, I've known 
 him go half a mile out of his way just to get a nod from 
 him as he went past. 
 
 " We had what they call a presentation before he left, 
 and guv' him a bit of silver — it were'nt much of a thing, 
 
 * Shaken hands. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 39 
 
 and a large dockermint in a gold frame, with all our 
 names on it, and Peters, he tried to make a speech, and 
 Mr. Johnson, he tried, but — come up 'os" — and this time 
 the lash descended and Sam became silent. 
 
 Peters was standing in the road by the white gate lead- 
 ing to the kennels when the cart drove up. On one side 
 of the gate lay Peter's garden — the trim patch of potatoes, 
 the strawberry plants just coming into blossom, and the 
 sweet-pea hedge — behind which rose his red-tiled cottage. 
 A cat stretched itself in the sun upon the window-sill, 
 while a canary, hidden by the creeper that clambered over 
 the walls, was singing lustily within arm's length of her 
 natural enemy. On the other side was a somewhat smaller 
 cottage, and beyond could be seen the kennel and the 
 stables. 
 
 Four or five puppies were rolling over one another in 
 the kennel yard, and their mother's head appeared looking 
 suspiciously at the intruders as they approached the box 
 in which she lay. 
 
 " Mind, sir," said Peters to Joey, " 1 wouldn't go too 
 near her, she's a bit jealous;" and, stooping, he gently 
 patted his favourite's head, " What, fond of your whelps,, 
 old lady ? " and her ears lay back, and her stern rapped 
 audibly upon the straw. 
 
 " Is that one of the whips ? " said Crichton, as a young 
 man came up to take the horse from Sam. 
 
 " We've only got one, sir ; that's him." 
 
 " How many hounds have you got ? " asked Joey. 
 
 " Twenty-three couples, sir, in the kennel." 
 
 " You do three days a week, I suppose ? " said Crichton. 
 
 " No ; you can't do more than two days with one pack 
 o' hounds, nor less than four with two — that is, not if you 
 want to have them in any sort of condition." 
 
 " Absurd nonsense," muttered Crichton ; and Peters 
 appealed to Joey, who thought it wiser, on the whole, to 
 plead ignorance. 
 
40 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 As they entered the boiling-house, Joey, doing his best 
 to hold his breath, caught sight of the puddings which 
 were lying on the copper. " Faugh ! " he exclaimed, " how 
 they stink ! " 
 
 " What of ? " asked Peters. 
 
 " Horseflesh." 
 
 " Horseflesh ! Why these puddings were made Friday. 
 There's no horseflesh in them ! You know that, surely, 
 Mr. Spinks ? " 
 
 "What confounded impertinence!" Crichton whispered 
 in Joey's ear. 
 
 In spite of the noise made by the hounds next door, 
 Peters overheard the words, and the temper that Sam had 
 mentioned began to simmer. 
 
 Through the bars of the kennel-gate could be seen a 
 bunch of dark glistening eyes and wet noses, and the 
 short sharp bark gave place to the whine of expectation 
 and delight as Peters approached his eager and faithful 
 friends. 
 
 " Gaudy ! " he cried, pressing back the others with his 
 whip and allowing her to slip out, " Here, Gaudy, good 
 bitch ! There's what I call a picter," he exclaimed, 
 turning towards his visitors, " you never saw a more per- 
 fect picter of a hound than that." 
 
 Gaudy seemed to know what was expected of her, and 
 showed herself to the best advantage. Beautifully marked 
 with black and tan, the keenness of her head was, perhaps, 
 rendered more noticeable by the somewhat close rounding 
 of her ears. Her chest was broad and deep, and her legs 
 stood straight and strong upon the cushions of her round 
 feet. Her drake-like neck was well set upon her body, 
 and a slanting shoulder, rounded ribs, strong loin, and 
 muscular thighs combined to make what was indeed a 
 *' picter of a hound." 
 
 " She is a beauty," cried Joey,' more confident in his 
 knowledge of hounds than of puddings. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 4I 
 
 " Wants quality," said Crichton. 
 
 " What quality ? " Peters quickly replied ; " I only wish 
 I had as much ! " 
 
 " Indeed, I wish you had," said his tormentor, with 
 exasperating coolness ; " it would be better for us all, 
 hounds included." 
 
 Whatever differences of opinion there had been, and 
 they were many, between Peters and Mr. Johnson, the 
 former had always been treated with courtesy, the latter 
 with respect. The obstinacy with which the old hunts- 
 man asserted the principles of his own hunting-religion 
 often amused and never offended his master, who invari- 
 ably, when he could, conceded the point in dispute, for 
 he was shrewd enough to let the old man have his own 
 way on many points of ritual, which were of very slight 
 importance when compared with the fundamental articles 
 on which they were entirely at one, the amicable resolu- 
 tion of every argument being that the Bosby hounds were 
 for their special purpose — i.e., killing foxes in a woodland 
 country — at least as good as any that had ever been bred. 
 
 Now, Peters had taken the exact measure of Joey and 
 his friend the moment they opened their mouths, and 
 even before that had formed a pretty correct estimate of 
 them from their general appearance. The flowers in 
 their button-holes and the cut of their clothes were evil 
 auguries in the eyes of the unaffected old sportsman. 
 
 He was accustomed to, and even courted, contradiction, 
 for he loved an argument, and was civil to those whose 
 opinion he respected. Joey's humility was hopeful, if 
 disappointing; but the arrogance of his companion was 
 more than the old man could stand. 
 
 As he put his rejected ''beauty" back in the kennel, he 
 felt for all the world like an ill-used bear who, ring in 
 nose, is compelled, willy-nilly, to go through the usual 
 performance. Still, as he turned to the kennel in which 
 
42 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 the dog-hounds were kept, he could not help feeling all 
 the confidence of a \^'hist-player when about toi play^his 
 ace of trumps upon his opponent's king. 
 
 "Here, Galloper," he cried, holding the kennel-door 
 slightly open, while the hound, answering to his name, 
 forced his way through the rest of the hounds. 
 
 "Here, Galloper !" and his favourite came bounding to 
 his side. 
 
 With a gentle touch of his whip he reminded Galloper 
 of his manners, as he seemed inclined to show his white 
 teeth to Captain Crichton, and the dog, turning to Joey, 
 thrust his cold nose into his hand, and insisted on the 
 caress he was accustomed to. 
 
 " I don't like his head," said Crichton, with the air of a 
 connoisseur. 
 
 "No more don't the foxes," retorted Peters, with ill- 
 concealed contempt. 
 
 "His legs aren't straight." 
 
 "Not straight?" Peters shouted, thumping his crop 
 down on the flags, and holding it upright by the hound, 
 "you don't want 'em like lamp-posts, do you?" 
 
 "But he's throaty, and altogether too heavy," continued 
 the critic; "he couldn't live for half a minute with the 
 Quorn or the Pytchley." 
 
 "What I say is," said Peters, getting more and more 
 excited, "there's more hunting in the tip of that dog's 
 nose than in all the shires put together. Do you think I 
 don't know?" the irascible huntsman went on; "do you 
 think I've never been in a grass-country?" 
 
 Taking no notice of what Peters said, Crichton asked, 
 "How's he bred?" 
 
 "By me and Mr. Johnson." 
 
 " But what is his pedigree ? " 
 
 "What's the use of a pedigree if he can't hunt, or, what 
 if he ain't got none if he can ? Why, the best pack of 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 43 
 
 hounds as ever I knew had pedigrees as long as from here 
 to Jeroosalem, all writ down in black and white, and kept 
 in a book, and they was all sham, every one of 'em !" 
 
 "All I can say is, I could hunt a pack of hounds like 
 that dog on a donkey." 
 
 ;\ 
 
 .4^ 
 
 .^emaX!' 
 
 "And so much the better," cried Peters, "if more than 
 half the gentlemen what thinks they understands about 
 fox-hunting was mounted on jackasses, there would be a 
 good deal better sport ! How can the hounds keep their 
 heads down if the horses are always on the top of them ? 
 What with the riding, and the holloaing, and the 'What's 
 he waiting for?' 'Why don't he cast for'ard?' 'Why don't 
 
44 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 he cast back?' neither the hounds nor the huntsman gets 
 a chance. They had much better stay at home, or go 
 drag-hunting, if that's all they comes out for. Now, Mr. 
 Spinks," he went on, turning to Joey for sympathy, 
 " you're a young gentleman as is fond of sport, and wants 
 to learn something about fox-hunting, but if you think 
 you are going to kill foxes by hard riding you had far 
 better leave it alone. I had killed more foxes before you 
 were born than you are ever likely to see; and as for 
 riding, there was a time when I never opened a gate. 
 I've had my turn, and leaves that sort of thing now to 
 somebody else. If you will take an old man's advice ' 
 
 The advice, which might have proved invaluable, was 
 nipped in the bud by the arrival of Mr. Brain and his 
 daughter. Mr. Brain had come over at Mr. Johnson's 
 request to arrange with Joey about the lease of Bosby 
 Hall, and had brought his daughter with him to do the 
 honours at the luncheon which the housekeeper had been 
 ordered to prepare for the visitors. 
 
 A hearty shake of the hand from Mr. Brain, and the 
 young lady's unfeigned admiration of his beauties, in some 
 measure restored Peter's equanimity, and averted the 
 catastrophe that a few moments before had seemed 
 inevitable. After a tour of inspection, in which every- 
 thing was voted satisfactory, the party said good-bye to 
 Peters, and took their way to the Hall to avail themselves 
 of Mr. Johnson's hospitality. 
 
 Mr. Brain, although he was what is called a self-made 
 man, as the agent for several large estates in the neigh- 
 bourhood, was a person of considerable importance in the 
 county. He lived about twelve miles from Bosby, but, 
 being a man of system, found no difficulty in managing 
 properties at a still greater distance from his own home. 
 His daughter, who seemed to Joey as pretty a girl as he 
 ever wished to see, was frank and unaffected in her 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 45 
 
 manner, and without a trace of anxiety as to her position 
 in county society. 
 
 The afternoon was spent, pleasantly enough, looking 
 over the house, the adjoining offices, and the estate. It 
 was finally agreed that Joey should take the lease of The 
 
 Hall for seven, fourteen, twenty-one years, but that the 
 land belonging to it should for the present remain in the 
 owner's hands, the lease dating from the 31st of July. 
 
 When Sam arrived with his cart to take him to the train, 
 Joey was conscious of retaining Miss Brain's hand in his 
 a trifle longer than was necessary, and of hoping that the 
 slight blush upon her cheek did not exist only in his 
 imagination. 
 
46 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 It was not until he was comfortably settled in the 
 corner of a first-class carriage that Crichton began to 
 abuse Peters and his hounds, and to turn the Bosby Hunt 
 to ridicule. Joey argued, but in vain, that they must 
 make allowance for Peters on account of his age, temper, 
 and eccentricity. He did not hesitate to express his 
 admiration of the old man's keenness in supporting his 
 own theories ; but was, nevertheless, finally overborne at 
 every point by his superior. Even the puddings were 
 brought up in evidence : 
 
 "What right has he to be rude to you ?" said Crichton. 
 " It is his place to know how the puddings are made, not 
 yours ! I have never in all my life seen a man who has 
 struck me as being less like a gentleman's servant. His 
 denunciation of riding merely means that he can't ride 
 himself. His abuse of the Quorn shows his ignorance 
 of the strides we have made in fox-hunting. His con- 
 tempt for a hound with a pedigree proves that he doesn't 
 know how hounds can be improved by careful breeding. 
 In short, his ideas on everything connected with hunting 
 are antiquated and ridiculous. Look at him ! Look at 
 the whip, the kennel-feeder, the hounds — they all look as 
 if they had come out of the ark ! I'll tell you what will 
 happen, not once, but every time you go out. As sure 
 as you get into a good run Peters will be left behind — 
 you will be alone with the hounds ; suddenly they will 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 47 
 
 come to a check ; you will see the sheep huddled to- 
 gether on the far side of the field, and will know perfectly 
 well that they have been over the line, and that your fox 
 has gone on ; you try and lift the hounds ; they don't take 
 the very slightest notice of you, but stand there looking 
 for Peters, who has got stuck up in some place he has got 
 into and can't get out of. At last he comes up, and won't 
 listen to you — of course he won't, although he hasn't the 
 slightest idea what has happened. He casts back ; dod- 
 dering old men like him always cast back ; if they can't 
 see a reason for it they invent one, because they know they 
 can't keep with the hounds if they go for'ard. At last, 
 when he does cast for'ard, and hits off the scent, it's too 
 late ; there's half an hour wasted ; your fox is forty 
 minutes ahead of you, and, after pottering on slower and 
 slower for a mile or two, you give it up, and go home. 
 My dear fellow, I've seen it done scores of times. You 
 ask my advice ? — Give him the sack." 
 
 Joey felt like a man who has got into deep water and 
 can't swim. The waves seemed to be closing above his 
 head. 
 
 " Don't look like that, Spinks," said Crichton, affecting 
 to laugh at his friend's despondent expression, "there's 
 nothing to be down-hearted about. It is easy enough to 
 put things right, and make the Hunt what it has never 
 been before." 
 
 If a drowning man clutches at a straw, how welcome 
 must be the arrival of a strong swimmer to his assistance. 
 Joey was filled with gratitude to his deliverer. Once con- 
 vinced that it was to the advantage of sport that Peters 
 should go, Joey more easily overcame his scruples with 
 regard to the justice of the step he was contemplating. 
 An old man could hardly expect to be kept on when he 
 was, by his own showing, past his work ; no doubt he had 
 feathered his nest, and could retire and live in comfort, 
 
4^ MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 and he would enjoy a rest from the work he was no 
 longer equal to. It was not Joey's business to look after 
 Mr. Johnson's old servant ; in any case it would be easy to 
 find some suitable employment for him about the place. 
 These arguments, in addition to others which Crichton 
 was constantly supplying, finally decided Joey to get rid 
 of Peters. The next question was where to get another 
 huntsman. 
 
 Here, again, no difficulty presented itself to the fertile 
 brain of Joey's adviser. 
 
 " Supposing," he said, " the worst came to the worst, 
 and you couldn't find another huntsman, why shouldn't 
 you carry the horn yourself ? " 
 
 Joey smiled (whose vanity would not be tickled by such 
 a proposal), and shook his head : " No, my dear Crichton, 
 it wouldn't do, although I own I have thought I should 
 like to hunt the hounds myself after serving an appren- 
 ticeship for a year or two ; for there is no doubt, as far 
 as pure hunting is concerned, the huntsman has nine- 
 tenths of the fun. Ah ! Crichton," he concluded with a 
 sigh, " If I only had your experience ! " 
 
 The gentleman thus addressed raised his hand depre- 
 cating such flattery. The experience alluded to, our 
 reader will believe, had been made the most of. Joey was 
 not aware that it was restricted to the regimental pack 
 over which the Captain presided for a short period, during 
 which their quarry was generally a red herring, sometimes 
 a hare, and on rare occasions a bag-fox. Nevertheless, 
 knowing at least as much about the business as his friends, 
 and being unquestionably a fine horseman, he had easily 
 earned a reputation as a sportsman ; nor had he learned 
 enough to have any doubt of his own capabilities, pro- 
 vided he were given the opportunity of putting them to 
 the test. 
 
 Such were the thoughts that ran through his mind as he 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 49 
 
 raised his hand, and said : " My dear Spinks, you under- 
 rate your own powers. Of course, having actually hunted 
 a pack of hounds gives me an advantage over anyone who 
 has never tried his hand at it ; but a fellow like you with 
 a natural turn for sport can pick up a great deal in a short 
 time, and surely a man who is a gentleman by birth and 
 education sTiould be able to learn quicker than the 
 ordinary huntsman. I don't suppose Peters knows how 
 to spell his own name. 
 
 " You would hardly believe what a difference there was 
 in our hounds after I had had them a few months. Our 
 fellows couldn't make it out ; they had hardly ever known 
 what it was to have a good run, and were astonished 
 beyond measure when we had * a clinker ' day after day. 
 There is no reason whatever why you should not do the 
 same if you will give your time to it. Depend upon it 
 that's the reason there are not more gentlemen huntsmen ; 
 they won't take the trouble to learn their business at first 
 starting and devote themselves to their hounds." 
 
 Joey still shook his head. " Very likely," said he, " I 
 should learn quicker than some of them, and I would 
 gladly give myself up to it, but what would happen while 
 I was learning ? " 
 
 "Well, then, look here," said Crichton, "I'll tell you 
 what — understand it is merely a suggestion — supposing 
 I were to give you a start, the first season say. You would 
 be virtually hunting the hounds yourself, I should be at 
 hand to help you if you wanted any assistance. What 
 do you say ? " 
 
 Here was a matter for Joey's serious consideration. 
 
 The unselfishness of Crichton's proposal was obvious. 
 What inducement could there be for him to devote him- 
 self to another man's hounds, only to hand them over to 
 him when he had brought them to perfection ? It was 
 almost too much for anyone to expect, even from his 
 greatest friend. 
 4 
 
50 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Then, the members of the Hunt ought certainly to be 
 consulted. Such a serious step was hardly contemplated 
 when the Committee offered him the mastership on 
 certain conditions. If he turned Peters off — which 
 might seem reasonable enough — they would expect the 
 Hunt to be carried on on the old lines and to have a 
 professional appointed as his successor. 
 
 Eventually, Joey assented to Crichton's proposal on the 
 following conditions, viz., that the Committee should be 
 consulted, and that all expenses should be defrayed by 
 Joey himself. He even hinted, but with such delicacy 
 that the hint seemed lost upon his friend, that it would 
 be only fair to give him a salary equal to his services. 
 
 These important matters agreed upon, things proceeded 
 apace. It was decided to draft a few good hounds (and 
 it was worth paying a good price for them) into the pack, 
 as it was too late in the year to think of getting rid of the 
 present lot — to discharge the whip, and to engage two 
 first-rate men in his place — to keep on Sam, as it was an 
 advantage to have a kennel-feeder to whom the hounds 
 were accustomed. Rough stabling was to be run up 
 at the Hall, and alterations made in Peter's cottage for the 
 whips' accommodation. 
 
 The days passed quickly ; Joey's time was fully 
 occupied — chiefly in town — looking at horses and visiting 
 shops. Saddlery, horse-clothing, stable utensils of every 
 sort and kind, and a thousand things beside had to be 
 bought. He often doubted if he could have done it all 
 without Crichton's assistance. He certainly would never 
 have thought of half the things which were absolutely 
 necessary ; nor did he notice, what was peculiar enough, 
 that the shopman was always much more profuse in his 
 thanks to his friend than to himself. If he had noticed 
 it he would, in all probability, have considered it the 
 natural effect of Crichton's unquestioned superiority. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 5 1 
 
 Not infrequently, whenever of his own accord he wanted 
 to buy something that had taken his fancy in passing 
 a shop window, his adviser would insist upon his not 
 being extravagant, and on these occasions he was deeply 
 impressed by the advantage of having someone with him 
 to direct and -control his expenditure. 
 
 So the weeks flew by. Roehampton swarmed with 
 tradesmen bringing samples for inspection. In all 
 matters of taste Mrs, Spniks was studiously consulted by 
 the Captain, who proved himself invaluable. He did 
 nearly all the correspondence, received the bills, checked 
 the items (alas ! filling in many a blank space with the 
 price of the article purchased), and did everything but 
 sign the cheques. He overlooked nothing, forgot 
 nothing, was ever ready with a suggestion, could cope 
 with any tradesman, from the tin-smith to the picture- 
 dealer, so that a hundred times a day Joey exclaimed 
 " By Jove, Crichton, what should I have done without 
 you?" 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Peters was at work in his garden. The midsummer 
 sun, not yet half-way to its zenith, threw soft shadows 
 across the beds where the dew still glistened in the 
 opening plants. A half-grown son of Galloper sat near 
 him on the gravel walk, snapping at the flies as they 
 buzzed round his head. Presently a low growl from the 
 dog attracted Peter's attention, and he looked up. The 
 postman was at the gate, and had a letter for him. He 
 took the letter, and, followed by the dog, went into the 
 house. There he opened it, and read, not without diffi- 
 culty — read it again — and again ; then sank into a chair 
 and buried his face in his hands. His mute companion 
 cocked his puppy-ears wondering what it all meant, and, 
 after a time, unable, as it were, to control his curiosity, 
 laid a heavy paw upon his master's knee. Peters raised 
 himself and gathered one of the dog's soft ears tenderly 
 in his hand; the canary trilled blithely in his cage. "Ah ! 
 little bird," he said, "may you never know the sorrow of 
 this poor old heart ! — he knows, I believe he knows," he 
 added, as, with a low whine, the dog laid his chin upon his 
 knee. 
 
 Little did Joey think when he wrote that letter of the 
 suffering he was about to inflict upon a fellow-creature. 
 Physical suffering he thought of, and was ready to prevent, 
 but mental agony did not enter into his calculations. 
 
 How easy it is to criticise, and how difficult to perform 1 
 How often the humility of true genius has shrunk from 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 53 
 
 the lash of tlie ignorant and merciless critic ! The world 
 bows before the fashion of the day ; the engravings that 
 Sir Joshua Reynolds declared w^ould alone immortalise 
 his name, thirty years ago, were sold in open market for 
 a shilling a-piece. It is vain to say genius will assert 
 itself — perhaps it will — but of the poets and painters whom 
 we catalogue with pride, how many have lived and died in 
 penury ! The lights that have risen we can count, but can 
 we number those that have been quenched ? Who can 
 tell of the happiness wrecked, of the homes made desolate, 
 of the life crushed slowly from sad hearts by the witty 
 ord of a clique, or the thoughtless creature of a fashion ! 
 The crushing criticism falls too heavily upon the short 
 life, and the notes of the singer have floated away un- 
 heeded, save by the messengers of Heaven. 
 
 " Genius begins where rule ends." The true genius is 
 the student who, following humbly in the footprints of 
 bygone masters of his art, can, when these fail, step 
 boldly on, where others in their turn may follow and 
 excel. But who can say, ''Here man has never trod?" 
 What were the Ancients to whose wisdom Job and Homer 
 bowed ? As far as history reaches, the human intellect 
 has not advanced one jot. Which, then, are we to 
 believe — that the powers of this intellect, automatically 
 evolved in our ape-like progenitors, have been stagnant 
 since it became rational ; or, that there was a time when 
 God made man in His own image and saw that it was 
 good? 
 
 Though not one of the "fine arts," hunting may still 
 claim to be an art ; and a huntsman, without expecting to 
 be ranked with Shakespeare, Titian, and Michael Angelo, 
 may be called a genius. 
 
 Of the history of his art Peters knew little. The name 
 of Nimrod, that mighty hunter before the Lord, was 
 familiar to him — in fact he had narrowly escaped being 
 
54 
 
 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 christened by it. He had heard, too, the story of Adonis^ 
 and appreciated the lad's devotion to his favourite pastime ; 
 but it mattered httle to him who first tamed the dog or 
 broke the horse. The rules he followed had descended by 
 
 tradition from generation to generation. Hugh Lupus — 
 le gros veneur — who harried the Welsh, probably knew 
 how to lay on the royal pack, or head the noble quarry so 
 that his royal master might cut in and watch his leading 
 hounds at work, and sound his horn as he urged his 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 55 
 
 steed across the vale and up the down's steep side, and 
 from the ridge discern the lengthening pack descending 
 to the woods ; and it is not impossible that the craft of 
 "the Wolf " had come down in a direct line to our friend 
 Peters. 
 Through, whatever channels the traditions had de- 
 
 scended to him, he was a thorough workman, and to be 
 discharged by an ignoramus for being beyond his work 
 was like iron entering into his soul. 
 
 Mrs. Peters, as is not uncommon in that class of life, 
 was older than her husband, and twice his size. In their 
 case the precepts of the " matrimonial service " were 
 reversed. It was she who cherished, while he honoured 
 and obeyed. 
 
56 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 When she entered the room where her husband still sat 
 in deep dejection, she saw in a moment that something 
 was wrong. The letter lay upon the floor ; she picked it 
 up, and slowly mastered its contents. 
 
 " It's a shame," she cried at last, " I'll write to Mr. 
 Johnson ; you shan't be turned away ! Where can you get 
 another place ? People don't want old men — I wonder 
 they don't shoot you like an old 'os ! " and she flung down 
 the letter and stamped her foot so that the house shook. 
 
 " 'Taint no good, Jemima ; we've got to go, so there's an 
 end on it. 1 knew it when I saw them two walk away 
 from the kennel-door. Says I to myself, ' Peters' you're 
 an old fool, your temper's done it at last.' My dear kind 
 master, why didn't you shoot me before you left ! " 
 
57 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 In the beginning of August the village of Bosby was alive 
 with excitement. The carpenters had nearly finished their 
 work at the Hall ; the stables had been fitted with all the 
 latest improvements, and Dawkins was to arrive in a day 
 or two with his horses. The Spinks family were expected 
 to follow him shortly. The Bonds, who were still away 
 on the Continent, had written to say they were coming 
 back to Spetchley immediately, and Lord Unwin had be- 
 spoken his old quarters at the village inn. The gossips 
 were all busy discussing the probable events of the new 
 order of things. 
 
 The news of Peter's dismissal raised a storm of indigna- 
 tion among his friends. The farmers around the neigh- 
 bourhood, whose crops and fences Peters had always been 
 careful not to damage more than he could help, talked of 
 getting up a " round robin," petitioning that he should 
 be reinstated ; but when it became known that even Mr. 
 Johnson's efforts in the same direction had failed, that the 
 new whips were already in possession of Peters' house, 
 and Captain Crichton appointed as his successor, they 
 seemed to lose heart, and when it was found that money 
 was beginning to flow in a steady stream from Roehamp- 
 ton to Bosby, those who were most likely to profit by its 
 fertilising influence by degrees allowed their ardour to 
 abate, and in a few weeks Peters' cause was either for- 
 gotten or crowded out by matters of greater importance. 
 
58 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Moreover Peters himself, having accepted the offer of a 
 small cottage belonging to Mr. Johnson on the outskirts 
 of the village, had retired from the world, and was sulking, 
 like Achilles in his tent, behind the high wall that sur- 
 rounded his garden. Here he sat day after day brooding 
 over his wrongs, in company with the son of Galloper, 
 the only living thing besides his wife and the canary that 
 he had taken with him from his old home. 
 
 The garden was choked with weeds, the paths were 
 green, and the fruit trees spread their shoots unpruned ; 
 but he had no heart to work. Injured and forgotten, he 
 sat and meditated his revenge. 
 
 In the meantime, Joey was making preparations for 
 leaving Roehampton. 
 
 The carriage drive was filled with Pickford's vans, 
 cocoa-nut matting, and furniture. Men were hurrying in 
 and out of the house collecting chairs, carpets, sofas, 
 wardrobes, and all the accumulations of civilisation pre- 
 paratory to packing them, and starting for Bosby. The 
 stable-yard was the scene of similar confusion. Dawkins, 
 who had just arrived from Bosby, whither he had already 
 taken one lot of horses from London, was in command, 
 superintending the departure of the rest of his master's 
 stud. 
 
 Joey and his mother were in the business-room, sort- 
 ing papers, tearing up letters, and making their final 
 preparations for leaving their old home, when Bullock 
 appeared in the doorway. On being asked what he 
 wanted, he entered and closed the door behind him. It 
 was some time before he spoke, but at length he blurted 
 out, " Very sorry, Mrs. Spinks, but I can't go." Mrs. 
 Spinks looked at him, and from him to Joey, in bewilder- 
 ment. 
 
 " But we don't want you to go," she said at last. 
 
 " He means to Bosby, mother," said her unhappy son, 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 59 
 
 who was fully and miserably conscious of the situation. 
 He had seen the clouds gathering for some time, but had 
 been afraid to do or say anything to precipitate the storm 
 which he fondly hoped he might escape. He knew that 
 Bullock and Dawkins had both been in Lord Bulstrode's 
 service, but it had not occurred to him that they might 
 have been there together, or could have any reason for 
 disliking one another. Bullock, on his part, growing 
 more and more morose since he had last seen Dawkins, 
 had done from obstinacy what Joey had done from 
 timidity, namely, avoided as far as possible any mention 
 of the subject, so that, strange as it may seem, it was not 
 until Dawkins actually appeared in the stable yard, and, 
 armed with a letter from Mr. Spinks, set about removing 
 the horses that Bullock knew for a fact that he had been 
 deposed from the supreme command of his master's stud. 
 
 The fact that Dawkins came from Bosby at all, for 
 Bullock was quite equal to taking half a dozen horses 
 from one house to the other, was due to Crichton, who, 
 foreseeing what would happen, found it easy to persuade 
 Joey that, if there must be a row between the two men, 
 they had far better have it out at Roehampton than start 
 in a strange neighbourhood by creating a scandal. The 
 worst that Joey had allowed himself to anticipate was an 
 outburst of jealousy and indignation, and he was accord- 
 ingly almost as much taken aback as his mother, when 
 Bullock explained, with considerable force and dignity of 
 manner, that nothing would persuade him to remain under 
 the same roof with, or in the proximity of, the new stud 
 groom, whether above, under, or independently of him. 
 
 " It is not my place, madam," he said, addressing his 
 mistress, "to dictate to you, nor to advise you regarding 
 your servants. What lies between me and Mr. Dawkins 
 concerns no one besides us two. Had Mr. Joseph asked 
 my advice in the first instance — and I may say I wish he 
 
6o MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 had done so — it might have been different, but no one 
 shall ever say that George Bullock lost another man 
 his situation. Your kindness, madam, and yours, Mr. 
 Joseph," he added, turning to his young master with tears 
 in his eyes, " I shall never forget as long as I live. 
 Believe me, sir, I bear you no ill-feeling — from the bottom 
 of my heart I say it — I bear you no ill-feeling for what 
 you have done. You have a right to do what you like. 
 You owe me nothing, whereas I am indebted to you for 
 many years of happiness spent in your service. No, sir, 
 nothing you can say now will alter my determination, but 
 if you should ever be in trouble, Mr. Joseph, and think 
 of old Bullock, let him know and he will come to you." 
 
 Joey, not being able to trust himself to speak, held out 
 his hand. Bullock pressed it with emotion, and then, 
 falling on his knees before his beloved mistress, seized 
 and passionately kissed her hand, rose to his feet and 
 left the room. 
 
 Half an hour later, when Joey went to look for him, he 
 was nowhere to be found. 
 
6i 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 While Crichton had been busily employed throughout 
 the summer in furthering his own interests, his partner, 
 accomplice, fellow-conspirator — or whatever name our 
 reader may think most aptly describes Lord Unwin — had 
 been in London wondering why he had not been asked 
 to Roehampton. Every attempt to procure the desired 
 invitation had been frustrated, and for some time he had 
 suspected that it was Crichton's intention to deprive him 
 of any share in the profits of their undertaking. The 
 London season was come to an end, his occupation was 
 gone, and he was anxious to leave town, but before doing 
 so he was determined to bring Crichton to book. He 
 wrote, accordingly, asking him to call the next afternoon 
 as he wished to see him on a matter of importance, and 
 was now walking to and fro in his rooms in St. James' 
 Street awaiting his tardy arrival. He appeared impatient, 
 worried, and out of humour. Now and again he stopped 
 to look at a letter which he held in his hand, but it did 
 not seem to afford him much consolation. The room 
 was in disorder ; the pictures had been taken down and 
 were standing on the floor against the walls ; the carpet 
 was littered with books and papers ; on the writing-table 
 lay an open gun-case and a heap of cartridges ; a chest, 
 of which the drawers were half open, disclosed a mass of 
 wearing apparel of every description ; while on the chairs, 
 sofa, tables, and every article of furniture were thrown, in 
 reckless confusion, boots of every kind, hats, coats, 
 
62 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 breeches, and all the paraphernalia of a bachelor's 
 manage. The profusion gave an impression rather of 
 careless extravagance than wealth. 
 
 The door opened, and Crichton, without troubling 
 himself to knock, walked into the room. Lord Unwin, 
 as if anxious to conceal the fact that anything unpleasant 
 had happened, slipped the letter under the lid of the gun- 
 case and welcomed his visitor with every appearance of 
 cordiality. 
 
 " Going down to Bosby already ? " said the latter, clear- 
 ing one end of the sofa, and settling himself among the 
 soft cushions while he cast his eye round the bare walls. 
 " But you are not going to take all these things are you ?" 
 
 " No, the bulk of them are going to Bosby, but I go 
 north to-morrow for the 12th, and shan't be back till Sep- 
 tember. You see I am giving up these rooms." 
 
 " Nothing wrong, I hope ? " 
 
 "Only the old complaint, a slight pecuniary hernia. 
 I have suffered from it before and have found change of 
 air and scene is the best treatment for it." 
 
 "How's the governor ?" 
 
 "In much the same state as myself, I'm afraid. I do 
 manage to get hold of a little money occasionally, but 
 hang me if I can make out how he gets along at all. No 
 doubt living is cheap abroad, but I've never yet dis- 
 covered the place where one can live for nothing." 
 
 " Hulloa ! what have we got here ? " exclaimed Crich- 
 ton, who, seeing the gun-case, had risen and was examin- 
 ing its contents, " a new pair of ' Purdeys ' ! This 
 accounts for the bankruptcy ! " 
 
 " Not at all, my dear fellow, unless you have heard that 
 Purdey has gone bankrupt. But they really are beauties, 
 you shall feel how perfectly they are balanced." 
 
 The guns were then put together, and the two con- 
 noisseurs spent the next quarter of an hour in putting 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 63 
 
 them to their shoulders, lowering them and raising them 
 again, while they fixed their eyes on the knobs of the 
 shutters and old nail-holes in the wall, until at last they 
 were satisfied that perfection had been attained. Then 
 followed a long discussion on the merits of various new 
 breech-loading actions which led the conversation to the 
 subject of shooting in general and the grouse prospects 
 for the coming season in particular. Having done his 
 best to exhaust an inexhaustible topic, Crichton suddenly 
 exclaimed, " I had no idea it was so late. I must be off. 
 We shall meet next at Bosby." 
 
 " Not so fast, my dear fellow," said Lord Unwin ; " I 
 didn't send for you to show you my guns." 
 
 "What is it you want ?" Crichton asked, impatiently, 
 evidently anxious to avoid any further conversation. 
 
 " Sit down, and I will tell you." 
 
 Crichton resumed his seat. 
 
 "I want to know about these hounds," Lord Unwin 
 began, drawing up a chair and sitting down opposite his 
 friend, " Where do I come in ? " 
 
 " You got the money I sent, didn't you ? " 
 
 " Yes, and I was very glad to get it ; but I suppose 
 your accounts are not audited ?" 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Simply this — It was I introduced you to Old Bond — 
 it was I got Spinks the mastership^I found Dawkins for 
 you — I got Johnson to let Spinks have the Hall — I per- 
 suaded the Committee to let him sack Peters and make 
 you huntsman — so I think I am entitled to a fair share of 
 the profits." 
 
 " And you've had it." 
 
 " I have only your word for it." 
 
 " Whose word do you expect besides mine ? " 
 
 " Of course I know these things can't be done exactly 
 in a business-like way, but I should like to have some 
 account — something in writing." 
 
64 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " I'm not very fond of writing," said Crichton, with an 
 almost imperceptible sneer, " but what have you to com- 
 plain of ? Several of Spink's horses have passed through 
 your hands ; you oughtn't to blame me if you haven't 
 made the most of your chances. You can't expect more 
 at present. Spinks has already more horses than he can 
 possibly make use of. He's a generous little beggar, and 
 will let you ride them as much as you like. Then there's 
 the shooting ; he has rented all the Coverts he can lay 
 hands on round Bosby, and Brain has let him have a 
 good deal more on his side of the country. Besides, you 
 will be on the spot, and will have every advantage that I 
 have." 
 
 "That all sounds very fine, my dear Crichton, but, to 
 begin with, I like riding my own horses — if some one else 
 pays for them so much the better ; and I don't care to be 
 seen sponging on the descendants of hair-dressers. As 
 for the shooting, that is an excellent amusement, but 
 firing away cartridges won't pay for that pair of ' Purdeys ; ' 
 and as for being on the spot, that is the very point 1 want 
 to speak to you about. How is it I have not been asked 
 to Roehampton ? " 
 
 Crichton leisurely re-lit his cigar and adjusted the 
 cushions. 
 
 " You evidently think," he began, after he had comfort- 
 ably settled himself, " that 1 lie on a bed of roses and keep 
 you shivering outside in the cold. I can only give you 
 my word as a gentleman " (it was Unwin's turn to sneer) 
 " that this isn't the case at all. Spinks isn't nearly such a 
 fool as you think, and his mother, as 1 told you long ago, 
 is the very devil. You may congratulate yourself that I 
 manage her as well as I do. If I had known as much 
 about her as 1 do now, Spinks should never have taken 
 the Hall. We ought to have got him down there by him- 
 self. I told you so at the time, but you would have it 
 your own way." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 65 
 
 " It's no use regretting that now, or trying to throw the 
 blame on me. I ask you a plain question : You have 
 been at Roehampton all this time, why haven't you got 
 them to invite me down there ? " 
 
 "You seem determined to hear what you won't like. 
 I have done all 1 can, but Mrs. Spinks refuses to have any- 
 thing to say 'to you." 
 
 " Why, what can she know about me ? " 
 
 Crichton shrugged his shoulders and said nothing. 
 
 " Who was she ? " 
 
 " The wife of a London barber." 
 
 " And before that ? " 
 
 "A dcv'lish good-looking girl, 1 should think ; but what 
 is the use of asking me all these questions ? What are 
 you driving at ? " 
 
 Lord Unwin took the letter from under the gun-case, 
 and handed it to his friend. " Read that," he said, " and 
 see if it throws any light on the subject." 
 
 Crichton stretched himself, took the letter, yawned as if 
 its contents were a matter of perfect indifference to him, 
 and read as follows : — 
 
 Ostend, August 6th. 
 
 " Dear Ned, — Sorry to disappoint you again, but I'm 
 cleaned out. You must look to your mother wit for 
 supplies, not to your old dad. There's no use your 
 coming over here ; they are as sharp as you are. I never 
 expected you would get much out of our Hebrew friends. 
 Have you tried old Mordecai ? If not, try him with 
 cent, per cent. ; a thousand per cent, wouldn't make any 
 difference to anyone except himself. What a fool you 
 were to cut off the entail ! I am feeling very shaky, my 
 nerves are not what they were. The mirrors in my room 
 — ^there are five or six of the beastly things — make me 
 look very old and infernally ugly. You are young, and 
 your brain is still active ; see what you can do, and if you 
 have any luck send your old dad a few shillings to pay 
 
 5 
 
66 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 for his funeral. It seems hard, when I see all these d — d 
 foreigners swelling it up and down the ' digue,' that I can't 
 get anything out of them. There's a rich old gal here 
 has an eye on my coronet ; if the worst comes to the 
 worst I may have to raise her to the peerage. I wish 
 those copies I had made of the old portraits were as good 
 as the originals. Do you think they would fetch any- 
 thing ? I should like you to keep mine ; anyhow you 
 would get very little for a portrait of 
 
 " your affectionate Dad. 
 
 " P.S. — I wonder if your Spinks is the man that 
 married about the neatest filly I ever set eyes on." 
 
 Crichton returned the letter without comment. 
 
 "Well, what have you got to say ?" said Lord Unwin, 
 who was becoming more and more irritated by Crichton's 
 manner. 
 
 " Nothing, except that the poor old chap seems in a 
 bad way." 
 
 " But the postscript — hang it man ! what about the 
 postscript ? " 
 
 ''Really, Unwin, you should know more about your 
 father's lady friends than I ! " 
 
 Up to this point Lord Unwin had hoped to come to 
 terms with his partner without straining their delicate 
 relationship by threatening extreme measures ; but now, 
 finding that milder measures did not produce the desired 
 effect, he determined to make a final trial of strength. 
 
 "There's nothing to be gained by beating about the 
 bush," he began ; " let us clearly understand one another. 
 You appear to fancy that you can take advantage of an 
 accident and pitch me overboard, but we have sailed too 
 long together for that, and I know a little too much about 
 you. I'm willing to steer straight, if you are. If you're 
 not, I drop a spark into the powder magazine and up 
 she goes." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 67 
 
 " By Jove, Unwin, you're becoming quite a poet with 
 your metaphors ; but they might be more exact, for it 
 seems to me as if I was on board and you're angry be- 
 cause you can't get into the ship." 
 
 " You needn't trouble yourself about my metaphors. 
 In plain English, if you get into Bosby Hall and I don't, 
 you know what to expect." 
 
 " Don't lose your temper, my dear fellow, I don't mind 
 your metaphors — I'll give you one myself quite as old, 
 and a little better; if the kettle (you're the kettle) lights 
 with the pot (I'm the pot) it don't matter which of them 
 upsets the other, out goes the fire ! I tell you — you 
 needn't believe me unless you like — I have done my best 
 for you, and will still try to do all I can ; but if you're 
 going to lose your head, the sooner we chuck business 
 the better." 
 
 In a quarrel, the party who loses his temper generally 
 gets the worst of it ; and Lord Unwin found himself in 
 the condition of an unskilful general who has revealed his 
 own position without inflicting any material damage or 
 even drawing the fire of his enemy, or, to use a more 
 homely comparison, like the man who has threatened to 
 bite his own nose off to spite his face, and has nothing left 
 but to carry out his threat. 
 
 " I have to get down to Bosby," said Crichton, rising 
 leisurely from the sofa, " so if you have nothing more to 
 say I will wish you good-bye." 
 
 So saying, with repeated assurances of his good faith, 
 he took his departure. 
 
68 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 There was a late harvest, the trees hadiah-eady^taken t heir 
 autumn tints, an early frost or two had begun to make the 
 
 
 s 
 
 y 
 
 ^'r 
 
 ■y.e^ 
 
 
 .r^ P^ 
 
 
 «r 
 
 r. 
 
 •^ 
 
 -~\- 
 
 ^"V / 
 
 
 
 ?-^vr^Y'v ^ 
 
 . ■^-^•^/jlf- / 
 
 
 brown leaves patter in the woods, and the partridges, 
 thanks to Joey's No. 6, had learnt to crouch closer in the 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 69 
 
 long stubble, before it was possible to commence cub- 
 hunting. 
 
 All the residents in the neighbourhood, including Lord 
 Unwin, had left cards at the Hall, and most of these visits 
 had been returned. 
 
 Every moment Joey could spare was spent with Crich- 
 ton in the kennels. The greater part of his time was 
 taken up in visiting the boundaries of his country, learn- 
 ing the topography of the coverts, and making the 
 acquaintance of the farmers and keepers whose goodwill 
 was most necessary to the Hunt. 
 
 In these visits he was nearly always accompanied by 
 Lord Unwin, whose knowledge of the country he found of 
 the greatest assistance. Had his mother spoken to him 
 about Lord Unwin, which she could not bring herself to 
 do, he might easily have found another escort ; as it was, 
 their acquaintance soon ripened into intimacy, and Joey 
 had no hesitation in asking his friend to his house, and 
 there were many occasions on which the invitation was 
 inevitable. 
 
 Lord Unwin could, when he took the trouble, make 
 himself particularly agreeable, and on these occasions was 
 at such pains to charm his hostess, that by degrees he 
 softened her animosity, and eventually succeeded in win- 
 ning her toleration. 
 
 The cub-hunting season had at length arrived ; every- 
 thing was ready for the commencement of hostilities, and 
 to inaugurate the campaign, and to return the hospitali- 
 ties already received, invitations had been issued for a 
 small dinner-party at the Hall. 
 
 Joey and Mrs. Spinks were in the drawing-room ready 
 to receive their guests. The first arrivals were the Vicar 
 and his sister, who came on foot and left their goloshes 
 in the front hall. The Rev. Mr. Marshall was between 
 fifty and sixty years of age ; he was tall, but his attenuated 
 
70 
 
 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 frame, that had been wiry in youth, was sHghtly bowed ; 
 he was clean shaved, and had somewhat the appearance 
 of an ascetic, but the kindly smile that lit up his face when 
 
 
 
 ( ( 
 
 
 in 
 1 1 i 
 
 
 
 he spoke showed that, however badly he might treat him- 
 self, he was at least tender in his dealings with his fellow- 
 men ; his voice declared him at once a gentleman and a 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 7 1 
 
 scholar, nor could one be five minutes in his presence 
 without feeling that the word " reverend " was the most 
 suitable adjunct to his name. Before he became vicar of 
 Bosby he was a master in one of our great public schools, 
 and there are many — now grey-headed men themselves, 
 with boys of their own, perchance, at the same school — - 
 who can remember how, when they came up in turn to say 
 their " repetition," he would lay his large-printed book on 
 the desk before him, while not one of them would think, 
 even for a moment, of taking advantage of the confidence 
 thus undesignedly shown in his honour. Nay, school- 
 masters — conscientious, hard-working, but ever suspicious 
 and sceptical of schoolboys' honour — do not laugh ; such 
 masters schoolboys love ! 
 
 Miss Marshall, an elderly lady, bore a strong resem- 
 blance to her brother, which had not grown less during 
 twenty years of constant companionship. 
 
 The next to arrive were Mr. and Mrs. Brain and their 
 daughter, the last looking quite charming in a simple 
 white muslin dress trimmed with real roses. 
 
 " I hope your father got my letter," said Joey, as he 
 advanced to meet her, " and that he will be able to bring 
 you to the meet to-morrow. I made it at Whiston Wood 
 on purpose to give you a chance of coming out." 
 
 Her reply was prevented by the entrance of the Bond 
 family, who were closely followed by Lord Unwin, the last 
 to appear being Captain Crichton, who emerged from the 
 " bachelor's wing," where he occupied a suite of rooms, 
 admirably adapted to his ideas of comfort and conveni- 
 ence. 
 
 Instead of following them through the menu, we will 
 betake ourselves to the cottage on the outskirts of the 
 village, where Peters and Sam sit plotting the destruction 
 of the Bosby parliament. 
 
 About the same time that Crichton was remarking to 
 
72 
 
 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Miss Brain on the excellent combination of cod and 
 oyster sauce, the kennel-feeder drew a short black 
 pipe and a bit of blacker tobacco from the pocket of 
 his long worsted waistcoat. 
 • " Where's the stuff ? " said Peters. 
 
 Sam jerked his head towards the garden, and said by 
 way of explanation. " 'Twerent necessary to bring it 
 inside." 
 
 " Have you brought the old mare ? " 
 
 " In the shed/' said Sam as he filled his pipe with the 
 fragrant shavings in the palm of his hand ; " she'll do ; 
 she is used to lie out o' nights." 
 
 There was a good deal of puffing and squinting at the 
 bowl of his pipe, before its contents could be said to be 
 going strong and well ; he then went on : " The hounds 
 are come — three couple and a half — the whips talk a 
 wonderful lot about their pedigrees, but such a slab-sided 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 73 
 
 looking lot of brutes I never see'd. Wherever they 
 come from I can't think. They ain't hke the 'osses, that's 
 certain. Whoever got tJicin knew what he was about." 
 
 The information about the new hounds seemed to 
 afford Peters some satisfaction. He sat smihng to him- 
 self some time before he said: 
 
 " D'ye think, Sam, they'll miss the mare from the 
 kennel field ?" 
 
 " No — and if they do they'll think she's in the boiler — 
 but ain't it about time for you to start ? " 
 
 Peters went to the window and looked out. The night 
 was pitch dark. 
 
 " Jemima," he called to his wife, who could be heard 
 stamping about overhead, " bring down them things will 
 you, and don't forget the rattle what frightens the rooks." 
 
 Before long Mrs. Peters appeared carrying a bundle 
 containing, among other things, a smock frock, an old 
 large-brimmed straw hat, a pair of hob-nailed boots, and 
 the rattle, and her husband, taking the things from her, 
 proceeded to transform himself into the figure of a portly 
 yokel. 
 
 "A little more straw under the waistcoat," said Sam, as 
 Peters completed his toilet, " and you could ride under 
 their noses without their knowing you." 
 
 " Maybe you're right, Sam, though 1 don't think any of 
 'em will see me, let's have another handful. There — 
 now the rattle, it's getting late. Bring the lantern, 
 Jemima, and let's see what we are about." 
 
 So saying, Peters led the way into the garden, where 
 Sam lifted a sack, and, going round to the shed behind the 
 cottage, presently brought the old mare out on to the road. 
 
 " Here, Sam, give me the sack," said Peters, as he settled 
 himself in the saddle, "and don't forget to mention, just 
 casual-like, in the village that 1 ain't at all well ; don't say 
 too much, or you'll have 'em all buzzing about here to 
 
74 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 know what's the matter with me. Ph — e — ew," he ex- 
 claimed, as he swung the sack over his shoulder, " If that 
 don't do the trick, I'm bothered if I know what will," 
 saying which he jogged off into the darkness. 
 
 His way lay by unfrequented roads, and there was little 
 chance of his meeting any one. As his eyes became 
 accustomed to the darkness he improved his pace, and the 
 old mare, either conscious of her reprieve from a sudden 
 and disgraceful death, or recognising that she had a horse- 
 man on her back, recovered her spirits as she went on, 
 and after a mile or two was stepping out with the gaiety 
 of a four-year-old. 
 
 "Well I never," said Peters to himself, " only to think of 
 sending a mare like this to the kennels ! What will they do 
 next ? Her feet are all out of shape, I can feel that without 
 looking at 'em. Of course if the feet gets out of shape 
 everything else must get out of shape to suit 'em just like 
 a pair of tight boots — there ain't much difference. There 
 was that white 'os, Strathspey, by Strathconan — Phew ! 
 I'm glad the wind ain't at my back — he was sent to the 
 kennels. Hutchins gave me thirty shillings for him, and 
 drove him for eight years. I don't know what gentlemen 
 are thinking about ; no excuse seems too ridiculous : one 
 horse is sent there because he won't jump water, another 
 because he won't jump nothing else, and another because 
 he's an old favourite and no one else shan't ride him. I'll 
 tell you what, old lady, if our little plan comes off, you 
 shall have another day with the hounds before you knocks 
 under, and that's a promise ! " Thus soliloquising, he 
 approached the village of Pockford, which was rather 
 more than seven miles from Bosby. The butcher's shop, 
 where Mr. Simpson carried on his business, lay in the 
 centre of it. It so happened Peters had a bone to pick 
 with the butcher, and for that reason, perhaps, selected 
 him for his victim on the present occasion. As he de- 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS, 
 
 75 
 
 scended the hill towards the ford from which the village 
 takes its name, he threw the sack he was carrying into the 
 ditch by the side of the road, saying, " it won't do to let 
 our friend get a whiff of that," and shortly afterwards 
 arrived at Simpson's house. 
 
 Everything was in darkness, but after Peters had ham- 
 mered at the door for some time with his stick a light 
 
 
 
 appeared, one of the windows in the upper story was 
 thrown open, and a head, surmounted by a white night- 
 cap asked who was there, and what he wanted at that time 
 of night. 
 
 " I want to see Mr. Simpson," said Peters, standing 
 under the house, well in the shadow, and feigning the voice 
 of the yokel he was intended to represent. 
 
76 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " Then you can say you've seen him," replied the head, 
 angry at being roused from its first sleep, and preparing 
 to close the window. 
 
 "Wait a minute! Mr. Spinks would be very much 
 obliged if you would help him to catch some stray 
 hounds." 
 
 The name of the new M.F.H. produced an imme- 
 diate impression, and the butcher, seeing a chance of 
 securing the custom of Bosby Hall, suddenly became 
 most anxious to do anything to oblige. 
 
 "Certainly, sir, certainly — most happy to do what I 
 can for Mr. Spinks." 
 
 " Well, then," said Peters, getting still closer to the 
 house as Simpson was moving the light about, trying to 
 get a glimpse of his interlocutor, " would you mind lay- 
 ing some offal and the trimmings of a few sheepskins 
 about in your yard on the chance of catching them. 
 You needn't be afraid of their doing any damage ; Mr. 
 Spinks will gladly pay for it if they do. See that the 
 trimmings aren't too dry, and mind and shut the gates 
 when you get the hounds inside." 
 
 " Certainly, it shall be done, it shall be done ; you may 
 tell Mr. Spinks that this, and any further orders, shall be 
 promptly attended to." 
 
 " You had better do it at once, as the hounds may be 
 about here any time." 
 
 " Certainly, sir," reiterated Simpson, all politeness and 
 attention ; " if you will wait half a moment I will come 
 down to you." 
 
 "Sorry I can't wait any longer just now ; I have some 
 way to ride, and it's getting late." 
 
 The butcher, who was now as anxious to detain the 
 disturber of his rest as he had been a short time since to 
 get rid of him, suddenly bethought him of his quarrel 
 with the old huntsman, and decided that, although he 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 7/ 
 
 had lost his place, he might possibly be useful as a friend, 
 and would probably be able to do him harm as an 
 enemy. Accordingly, once more accosting his visitor he 
 said : " By-the-by, have you heard anything of old Peters 
 lately?" 
 
 " He was pretty bad when I last heard of him," replied 
 the horseman ; " have you got any message for him ? " 
 
 " Dear me ! " said the worldly-minded Simpson in a 
 tone of tender concern, " I'm very grieved to hear that. 
 If you happen to see him, tell him I'm sorry about that 
 little tiff we had lately. He'll know what it means. He's 
 a queer-tempered old devil, but I don't want to be hard 
 on him now he's in trouble." 
 
 " That's very kind of you, Mr. Simpson, very kind 
 indeed — I'm sure the old devil will be very glad to hear 
 it ! Good-night, don't forget the trimmings and the 
 offal." Saying which, Peters turned his mare's head 
 towards home and, scarcely able to restrain his merriment 
 till he was out of hearing, trotted back to the place where 
 he had left his sack in the ditch. 
 
 Shortly afterwards Simpson returned from the yard 
 adjoining his house, where he had carried out his noc- 
 turnal visitor's instructions to the letter, and, getting into 
 bed, kept his sleepy spouse awake half the night listening 
 to the extravagant possibilities that were likely to result 
 from the capture of the missing hounds. 
 
78 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Whiston Wood formed the apex of an isosceles triangle, 
 being eight miles from Pockford and Bosby. 
 
 The night was still dark, but the wind had risen and 
 the broken clouds allowed the rays of the full moon now 
 and again to penetrate the darkness. Peters kept to the 
 road and, jogging steadily along, soon after midnight 
 reached the furthest point in his night's pilgrimage. 
 
 The wood, which covered several hundred acres, was 
 intersected by numerous rides as familiar to Peters as 
 his own garden paths. It was a stronghold for foxes ; 
 from time immemorial two or three litters had been bred 
 within its boundaries. As Peters stood on the edge of the 
 wood listening to hear if anyone were about — perchance 
 some stealthy poacher or watchful keeper on his rounds — 
 he could hear the night jar's rattle, the unearthly hoot of 
 the owl from his ivied tree, the baying of the watch-dog 
 from some distant farm, and, close by, the short, sharp 
 bark of the night-prowling fox, that told him more surely 
 than his ears that no stranger was moving in the vicinity. 
 
 Presently the moon came out and flooded the wood 
 with its full light. 
 
 " Ah ! " said Peters, apostrophising, we may suppose, 
 the man in the moon, " You're like Mr. Simpson, only a 
 trifle better looking, up there in your window of clouds — - 
 very willing to oblige, I'm sure, all orders promptly at- 
 tended to — you'll do what you can for the ' old devil ! ' " 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 79 
 
 Highly amused by his own wit, he drew the rattle from 
 the breast of his smock, and gave it a turn or two. A 
 bird flew from a neighbouring bush, and the night seemed 
 startled to a deeper silence by the sound. Then passing 
 through the gate, he zigzagged down the wood from side 
 to side, from end to end, plying his rattle as he went, till 
 he was certain that any fox that might have been in the 
 
 ^\ 
 
 » \ 
 
 ■■© 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 covert had taken his speedy departure for the night. 
 Having done this he returned to the centre of the wood, 
 where he dropped the sack and, holding the string to 
 which it was attached, hauled it behind him up the ride, 
 out through the gate, and across the open fields. The 
 line of country on which he started on leaving the wood 
 was intersected by numerous fences, which at that time of 
 the year would be formidable obstacles to the boldest 
 
8o 
 
 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 horseman. When he came to the first fence he threw 
 the sack into the next field and, making his way round, 
 picked up the string again and dragged the sack along to 
 
 V,,. 
 
 
 the next fence, where he repeated the operation, and so 
 on for about half a mile. Owing to the constant getting 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 8l 
 
 on and off to open gates that had been fastened during 
 the summer, his progress up to this point was slow and 
 tedious, but he now quickened his pace and, making a 
 half turn to the right, set off in a straight hne for Pock- 
 ford. As he knew every yard of the ground, he found no 
 difticulty in making his way across country. Here a gate, 
 there a gap, allowed him to pass unhindered from field to 
 field. A bridle-path led through a long tract of wood- 
 land, and opened at length on to a wide common, beyond 
 which only a few fields and the high road lay between 
 him and his destination. And all the time the noisome 
 sack tripped and rolled at the mare's heels, leaving behind 
 it the indelible scent of the foxes' litter it contained. 
 
 By three o'clock he was close to Pockford, and, coming 
 to a halt in a narrow strip of firs that grew by the road- 
 side, he dismounted and, hitching his bridle-rein to a post, 
 crept stealthily across the road, pulling the sack behind 
 him into Simpson's yard, where he was pleased to see 
 everything was prepared in exact accordance with his 
 instructions. Then for the last time he lifted his nasty 
 burden and left the yard as noiselessly as he had entered. 
 
 The sky was brightening in the east when Peters, for the 
 second time that night, entered Whiston Wood. On the 
 side of the wood furthest from Bosby there was a mound 
 thickly grown with holly-trees, from which a spectator 
 could see anyone approaching for some distance without 
 running any risk of being seen. Behind this shelter 
 Peters took up his position, and waited as patiently as 
 he could the arrival of the hounds. 
 
 The sun shooting above the horizon gave promise of 
 a lovely day. The warm rays penetrated Peters' straw- 
 stuffed smock, and set the warm blood circulating in his 
 chilled veins ; but was it only the cold night air and 
 want of sleep, or was it nervous anxiety that made his 
 teeth chatter and his limbs tremble, as he lay concealed 
 6 
 
02 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 behind the holhes ? The sound of voices suddenly 
 attracted his attention. " Lucky for me they didn't come 
 through the woods," he said to himself, as he saw Mr. 
 Brain and his daughter ride down the covert-side to meet 
 the hounds. 
 
 Presently the glint of a red coat in the distance revealed 
 the approaching cub-hunters, and made Peters' heart 
 thump against his ribs. Gradually he distinguished the 
 Whip riding in front of the hounds, Crichton followed by 
 the second whip, then Joey on a bay horse with Mr. 
 Murray, from Springwood ; after them. Lord Unwin and 
 Tom Parkes, and some way behind, Dawkins and two or 
 three grooms bringing up the rear. Now they were 
 joined by Mr. Brain and his daughter ; now there was a 
 glimpse of the hounds through a gap in the hedge-row. 
 In another minute he heard, " Eleu in over there; Eleu 
 into covert," the crack of whips, and the sound of the 
 horn as the hounds crashed into the wood. " Yodote, 
 push him up ! Yoicks, wind him," came Crichton's voice 
 with orthodox intonation. Peters strained his eyes down 
 the ride. He could see the very spot where he started 
 the drag. "There's Mr. Spinks," he groaned, "coming 
 straight up to it — no, good luck to him ! he's turned to 
 the right." Then Galloper shot across the tainted ride, 
 but turned in an instant and feathered on the scent. 
 " Any hound but him ! any hound but him ! " murmured 
 the agonizing Peters. The puzzled hound worked slowly 
 on the line ; one hound joined him, then another and 
 another, pressing forward, pushing one another on — more 
 hounds came — there was a whimper — two — three, and the 
 whole pack gave tongue and raced down the ride. 
 
 At the same moment Peters holloaed — not the clear 
 ringing holloa so familiar to his hounds — again he 
 holloaed, and galloped as hard as his old mare could go, 
 in a direction exactly opposite to that which the hounds 
 had taken. 
 
MR. 8PINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 8 
 
 " 'Ware heel ! 'ware heel," shouted Crichton ; 
 ^''Ware heel," shrieked Joey. "Stop those hounds," cried 
 Mr. Murray to the whip at the bottom of the wood. 
 
 Easier said than done. The hounds were gone before 
 the whip could head them. He crammed his horse at a 
 strong "stake and bound," still blind with the summer's 
 undergrowth, and fell headlong on the other side ; mean- 
 while the rest of the horsemen had galloped to the holloa. 
 
 " Who was it holloaed ? " they all exclaimed in one 
 breath, and then stared vacantly around. " Where was the 
 holloa ?" said Crichton. "Where are the hounds ? " asked 
 joey. " Running heel," said Lord Unwin. " Brace of foxes " 
 said Murray. " B-b-blow your h-orn," said Parkes. 
 
 Crichton blew his horn till he was black in the face. 
 
 " We sha'n't find the hounds by standing still," said 
 Mr. Brain, " they've gone somewhere." 
 
 So they all set off and galloped in every direction, each 
 making what he considered the most likely cast to hit off 
 the man who holloaed, or the hounds. 
 
84 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Joey pulled up at the end of the wood, and gazed 
 anxiously round about. A solitary sheep browsing close 
 at hand looked up at him as if wondering what he was so 
 excited about. It was evident the hounds had not gone 
 that way. 
 
 They completed their circuits and met again by the 
 hollies on the mound. 
 
 " Seen anything of them ? " was the question. " Haven't 
 you ? " the invariable reply. 
 
 So they parted, and made other circuits, but only to 
 meet again with the same result. The whip, who had 
 caught his horse after a stern chase, came up, and their 
 faces brightened, but he knew nothing except that the 
 hounds were gone. He couldn't turn them, but he heard 
 them running when he was trying to catch his horse. He 
 thought they were to the right but couldn't be quite sure 
 as he had a singing in his head after his fall. No fox left 
 the wood while he was there. The hounds were going 
 like mad ; all the new hounds were in front, and Galloper, 
 *' the dog what Sam makes such a fuss about," was the 
 last of the whole pack. 
 
 " How unfortunate ! " exclaimed Miss Brain, with the 
 most sympathetic intentions ; " I'm so sorry, Mr. Spinks, 
 that you have made such a bad beginning ! " 
 
 Joey devoutly wished he hadn't made the meet within 
 twenty miles of her. 
 
 In the meantime the hounds were racing over the fields 
 towards Pockford. Two labourers on their way to work 
 heard them running and climbed on to a bank. 
 
 " There they go," exclaimed one of them, " not a soul 
 with 'em, and they won't catch 'em now neither. They 
 wouldn't have giv' old Peters the slip like that anyhow." 
 
 "That just comes o' young heads thinking they're wiser 
 than old 'uns, that's what that is," said the other ; and 
 thus moralising they betook themselves to their daily 
 task. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 85 
 
 \'* -^«s^ 
 
 ^- /f/- 
 
 .r^*- 
 
 Let us imagine ourselves arriving at Pockford with the 
 hounds. 
 
 Simpson, who had been awake half the night lecturing 
 his wife, slept later than usual. Strange sounds mingled 
 with his dreams. Monstrous dogs with bovine heads and 
 tufted tails sat glaring at him round his bed, one lay upon 
 his chest and howled. Suddenly he started and awoke. 
 The sounds that had mingled with his dreams seemed to 
 be coming from the yard. 
 
 " Wake up, wake up," he said to his wife, " the hounds 
 have come." 
 
 " Oh, bother the hounds ! " said his wife ; " I've heard 
 enough about them ; go to sleep, do ! " and she drew the 
 blankets closer round her shoulders to keep out the cold 
 air. 
 
86 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " My calf ! I forgot the calf ! " cried the butcher, spring- 
 ing out of bed ; and sure enough, as he rushed half-dressed 
 from the back door of his shop, he saw that it was miss- 
 ing from the beam where it was suspended the day before, 
 and could only guess that its remains lay beneath the 
 seething mass of hounds who were tearing and fighting 
 over something in the shed. 
 
 What a change from the ideal to the reality ! He went 
 to bed hoping that some time the next day he might have 
 the luck to find one or two hounds peaceably gnawing the 
 horns or the fleshy trimmings he had prepared for them, 
 and imagined himself adroitly closing the gates upon 
 them, and securing the custom of Bosby Hall. He awoke 
 to find his premises turned into a pandemonium in which 
 half a hundred devils in the shape of ravenous dogs were 
 disputing the relics of his fresh-killed calf. This was nc 
 quid nimis with a vengeance, and his senses were fairly 
 unhinged by the magnitude of the visitation. 
 
 The butcher's first impulse was to save anything that 
 might yet remain of the veal, already bespoken by his 
 customers, and with this idea he seized a pitchfork that 
 lay at hand, and laid it about the hounds right and left 
 with considerable dexterity and effect, but accidentally 
 striking a hound who happened at that moment not to be 
 taking an active part in the proceedings, he caused that 
 animal to lay hold of the calf of his leg with such alacrity 
 that he was compelled to drop the fork, and, happy to 
 escape from the jaws of his assailant, took no further steps 
 towards the recovery of his veal. 
 
 His yells soon brought all who were within hearing on 
 the scene, and, as the news spread rapidly through the 
 village, a large crowd was soon collected, congregating at 
 a respectful distance from the hounds, for the sight of 
 the butcher's wound, a lack of personal interest in his 
 misfortune, and a natural curiosity to see the end of the 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 87 
 
 affair, inclined them to remain spectators rather than 
 become participators in the furious conflict that was being 
 waged. 
 
 The struggle ended in the complete dilaniation of the 
 calf ; each hound eventually carrying away his share of 
 the carcase to some corner of the yard where he might 
 enjoy it in 'peace, and growling fiercely if any of the by- 
 standers had the hardihood to threaten to bereave him of 
 his dole. 
 
 Had any one of the hounds, who may have had a distaste 
 for breaking up a fox, been capable of reflection at such a 
 moment, he must have formed a favourable opinion of 
 the new huntsman, who provided such delicacies at the 
 end of a run in the place of the usual unsavoury portion 
 of vulpine anatomy. 
 
 No sooner were peace and quiet restored in the yard, 
 than sounds were heard issuing from the interior of the 
 shop. The unhappy butcher on rushing from the house 
 at the first alarm, had thoughtlessly left the door open 
 behind him, and some of the hounds, dissatisfied with 
 their share of the calf, had found their way into the shop, 
 and were now revelling in prime joints of mutton and 
 beef, and they might have continued their revel for some 
 time longer had not one of them, in his anxiety to reach 
 a leg of four-year-old Southdown, caught his upper jaw on 
 the hook by which it was suspended. The frantic yells 
 occasioned by this suicidal manoeuvre were the cause of 
 their immediate discovery and expulsion. The self-sus- 
 pended hound, lifted by humane arms from his painful 
 position, '' took his hook " out of the shop, crying " pen 
 and ink," after his companions. 
 
 Whoever of my readers has in youth ''touched toes," 
 and undergone the indignity — no, not '' indignity," for 
 were not many of us proud of the number and frequency 
 of the chastisements for our small breaches of discipline 
 
88 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 — let US say distinction of receiving four cuts from the 
 monitor's cane with its nicely-waxed end, may remember 
 that his physical suffering culminated in the third stroke. 
 
 Now Mr. Simpson, who had not the benefit of this ex- 
 perience, fondly imagined that the worst was over. There 
 is a sense of relief when the worst is over, and we know 
 that, having endured so much, whatever happens can- 
 not be past endurance. But the unhappy butcher was 
 quite unprepared for the excruciating pain — enhanced 
 even by the pause which allowed his benumbed nerves to 
 recover their full sensibility — presently inflicted by a third 
 cut from Dame Fortune's relentless cane. He had just 
 become conscious of the scarcity of his attire, and was on 
 the point of ascending the stairs to complete his toilet, 
 when the most appalling shrieks issuing from his wife's 
 bedroom caused an exquisite and unmitigated agony to 
 penetrate his inmost soul. 
 
 When Mrs. Simpson, after her husband's abrupt de- 
 parture, drew the blankets round her shoulders, she went 
 fast asleep, and heard nothing of the disturbance that was 
 going on outside. She would in all probability have 
 remained in this happy state of unconsciousness for an 
 indefinite period had not one of the hounds, a mild-eyed 
 bitch, escaping from the shop, on the principle of any 
 port in a storm, fled for refuge up the staircase, carrying 
 with her a substantial piece of the best streaky bacon. 
 She was closely pursued by another hound, and the two 
 together, bursting through the bedroom door, which was 
 left ajar, rushed straight under the bed, where they began 
 a fierce dispute for the possession of the coveted rasher. 
 
 The sleeper was awakened by the awful noise beneath 
 the bedstead, which heaved and shook in a way that was 
 as mysterious as it was alarming. Her first impression was 
 that a terrific earthquake was taking place, but when she 
 saw the china on the washing-stand was undisturbed, and 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 89 
 
 that the motion was caused by something immediately 
 beneath her, she began screammg "Thieves, fire, murder ! " 
 with all the power of her lungs, and, diving beneath the 
 bedclothes, lay there trembling in a cold perspiration. 
 
 In this state she was discovered by her terror-stricken 
 husband, and a few of the most courageous of her neigh- 
 bours, who hastened to her assistance ; and on learning 
 the true cause of her alarm she promptly fell into 
 hysterics. 
 
 By this time most of the hounds were asleep. Galloper, 
 bloated beyond recognition, lay extended in the sun. 
 Every now and then his legs twitched, and he yapped 
 feebly — half-opened a blood-shot eye — sighed like a fat 
 porker, from repletion, and, with a grunt, once more 
 composed himself to slumber. 
 
 It was not for some hours that he finally awoke, 
 stretched himself, left the yard, and took his way slowly 
 towards the kennels — the rest of the pack following his 
 example by twos and threes during the course of the 
 afternoon. 
 
90 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 We left the cub-hunters in Whiston Wood, wondering 
 what had become of the hounds. 
 
 Anyone who has been completely " thrown out," and 
 has had the ignominy of his position forced upon him by 
 meeting some one in the same predicament, will under- 
 stand the feelings of Joey and his friends on the present 
 occasion. The former, having taken all responsibility 
 on his own shoulders, had naturally been anxious that 
 the first impression should be a favourable one. Of the 
 others, Crichton felt that his reputation as a huntsman 
 was sorely taxed at the outset by an inexplicable accident ; 
 Lord Unwin was calculating the chances of Crichton's 
 downfall involving his own ; Murray and Parkes, who 
 would like to have said " I told you so," were exchanging 
 glances of mutual understanding ; while one and all 
 knew that they had fallen not only in their own and one 
 another's estimation, but also in that of Dawkins and the 
 other grooms, who remained silent witnesses of their dis- 
 comfiture. 
 
 There was nothing for it but to go home ; so Mr. 
 Brain and his daughter departed in one direction while 
 the rest of the field rode through the wood towards 
 Bosby. 
 
 As they ride along we will take the opportunity of 
 introducing our reader to the two strangers. 
 
 Mr. Charles Murray, 35, bachelor, of independent 
 means, residing at Springwood, near Bosby, stood over 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 9 1 
 
 6 ft. in his stocking soles, and turned the scale at fourteen 
 stone. He was an all-round sportsman, and a general 
 favourite. No athletic meeting, whether for cricket, 
 football, running, or anything else, could ever be crowned 
 with success except under the direction of his indefatig- 
 able spirit. For some years, under Mr. Johnson's master- 
 ship, he had been secretary of the Hunt, and managed 
 such matters as the " finds " and the " poultry " to the 
 satisfaction of farmers, keepers, and subscribers, and to 
 his own credit. He had expressed his opinion strongly 
 against Peters' dismissal, but was overborne by the votes 
 of less liberal subscribers, who, with a regard to their own 
 pockets, thought it advisable to allow Joey — as he was 
 willing to pay the piper — to call the tune. Although 
 outvoted he was not silenced, and continued to inveigh 
 against the injustice and shortsightedness of the Com- 
 mittee's decision. He had a habit of speaking his mind 
 that often gave offence at the time, but was soon forgotten 
 in respect of his good intentions, valuable services, and 
 manly straightforwardness. 
 
 During the winter he kept four or five horses, which 
 he was constantly changing, more often than not making 
 a profit on the exchange. They always had a screw loose 
 somewhere, if one could find it ; but, as he was a bold and 
 judicious horseman, he was difficult to beat across his 
 own country. 
 
 His intimate friend and neighbour, Mr. Thomas Parkes 
 — '' old Tom " was the only name he was ever known by 
 — was a sportsman from the crown of his prematurely- 
 bald head to the soles of his shooting boots. Riding 
 upwards of sixteen stone, he was more likely to be seen 
 at the end of a long run than many a horseman better 
 mounted than himself. He had persistently refused to be 
 made a member of the Hunt Committee, pleading the 
 exigencies of business ; but could always accept an invita- 
 
92 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 tion to shoot, and was rarely absent from the field on 
 hunting days. What the business was in which he w^as 
 so engrossed no one knew exactly. He was generally 
 supposed to be the agent in that part of the world for 
 somebody's tea, for someone else's pianos, and for a dozen 
 other commodities of various kinds — was known to have 
 a share in a wine business, ancf was always on the look- 
 out to turn an honest penny. He would manage to pay 
 for his days' shooting by buying his host's pheasants on 
 commission for his partners in the wine trade. Where 
 others encountered only the humdrum occurrences of 
 everyday life, he was for ever meeting with strange ex- 
 periences, and, like Don Quixote, teemed with marvellous 
 adventures, which lost nothing in the telling, and an 
 impediment of speech, which grew more marked as he 
 became excited, added a spicy flavour to his relation of 
 them. As a consequence of this peculiarity, if any good 
 story got about he was sure to be made the hero of it. 
 One of these stories, whether it be true or not, is too good 
 to be forgotten. 
 
 On a hot day in the beginning of August he was on his 
 way to play in a cricket match, accompanied by a small 
 boy. The boy, who had just come home for his summer 
 holidays, had been telhnghim how he won the high jump 
 at his school sports. " D-do you k-now," said " old 
 Tom," " I w^as a v-ery g-good j-j-jumper when I was a 
 b-boy ; I won a s-ilver c-cup for j-j-jumping." Soon 
 after he had made this remark a thunderstorm came up 
 and they ran for shelter under a large oak. The storm 
 rapidly increased in intensity and before long a vivid flash 
 of lightning, followed instantaneously by a loud crack of 
 thunder, broke immediately overhead. The lightning, if it 
 struck nothing else, struck old Tom's conscience. " You 
 k-now " he said, with the greatest difficulty of utterance, 
 as soon as the reverberation had ceased. " 1 d-didn't 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 93 
 
 r-eally w-in a s-ilver c-c-cup, b-b-but I w-was a d-d-devilish 
 g-g-good j-j-jumper all the same." 
 
 For all this he was a good fellow, with a humble 
 opinion of himself and a generous appreciation of others, 
 and was one of Peters' staunchest admirers. 
 
 His stable never contained more than one horse, and 
 might have been empty at this time, as his old hunter died 
 of colic in the spring, had not Mr. Johnson, suspecting the 
 wine trade was not as brisk as might be, begged him, 
 before he left Bosby, to accept the gift of a mare that had 
 carried the " whip " for several seasons. The mare stood 
 a trifle over fifteen hands, was plain-headed, and knuckled 
 over a bit on the fetlock joints. " Old Tom," with his 
 heavy body and short stirrups, looked a world too heavy 
 for her. 
 
 He and Murray had hunted with Mr. Johnson from 
 the time they were boys, and their memories were living 
 records of the doings of the Bosby hounds for the past 
 twenty years. They felt keenly the loss of their old friend 
 Peters, and were ready to look upon his successor with a 
 severely critical eye. 
 
 Joey's modesty and good-nature disarmed criticism at 
 the outset, but Crichton's manner made a very different 
 impression on the two old members of the Hunt, who were 
 conscious that they were at least as capable of hunting the 
 hounds as he was. The latter took small pains to show 
 them any civility, or to conceal the fact that any advice from 
 them would be considered an unnecessary interference. 
 He would gladly have dispensed with Lord Unwin's ser- 
 vices in favour of theirs, but, as Unwin had his finger 
 already fixed ineradicably in the pie, he preferred to let it 
 remain rather than allow others a chance of extracting any 
 of the plums. 
 
 The mysterious holloa was as much a mystery after an 
 hour's discussion as it was at first. One suggested that 
 
94 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 one of the grooms had holloaed a hare, and had afterwards 
 been ashamed to acknowledge his mistake, but the grooms 
 denied the insinuation, and individually succeeded in 
 proving an alibi. Another suggested that there was an 
 echo, but failed to point out the person who made the 
 sound that was echoed. Still another suggestion was that 
 the man who holloaed had gone off with the hounds, but 
 this was impossible, as the holloa was in one direction and 
 the hounds ran in another ; but these, as well as a dozen 
 other theories, failed to explain either the holloa or the 
 disappearance of the hounds. 
 
 As they rode home, Parkes and Murray felt that 
 Crichton was mentally drawing invidious comparisons 
 between them on their " crocks " and himself on one of 
 Joey's two-hundred-guinea hunters. They were both 
 touchy about their weights and their horses. 
 
 " Isn't your pony rather too fat for hunting ? " Crichton 
 said to Parkes, with a smile of superiority. 
 
 " And he's likely to remain so," answered Murray, 
 coming to the assistance of his friend, who was struggling 
 to commence a sentence beginning with a mute consonant. 
 
 " Perhaps, Mr. Murray," rejoined Crichton, stung by 
 the sarcasm, "you would like to hunt the hounds 
 yourself." 
 
 Lord Unwin, anxious to prevent an open quarrel, here 
 interrupted, saying, " At present there are no hounds to 
 hunt, and it is too ridiculous to begin to fight because we 
 have been thrown out by a false holloa," and added, in 
 hopes of propitiating Murray, " That's a useful-looking 
 horse you're on ; can he jump ? " 
 
 " I'll back him to pound any horse in the Hunt," said 
 Murray, who never missed an opportunity of praising his 
 own horses. 
 
 " Well, Murray," said Parkes, pointing as he spoke to a 
 bank with two rails along the top and a ditch on the take- 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 95 
 
 off side, " I'll b-bet yoii h-alf a c-cro\vn you d-don't 
 j-j-jump that fence." 
 
 Murray was on a tall, raking, bay horse, who showed 
 every rib and muscle in his body, and was rigged out 
 with all the appliances for stopping a runaway. 
 
 " Done with you, Tom," he said, and without a 
 moment's hesitation rode at the fence. 
 
 His horse, trusting to the combined weight of himself 
 and his rider, made no attempt to clear the full height, 
 but sending the top rail flying, landed without an effort 
 on the other side. 
 
 Murray claimed the half-crown, and Parkes put in a 
 counter-claim on the ground that it was not a clear jump. 
 
 The argument was taken up by both sides ; and on the 
 question being put to the vote it was decided against 
 Parkes. 
 
 "All right, M-Murray," he said, "you had b-better let 
 me s-end you a b-b-bottle of my p-pale sherry." 
 
 Good humour was restored by old Tom's original 
 method of settling his debts of honour ; and soon after, 
 where the roads divided, the Bosby contingent parted 
 company with the two friends. 
 
 " I'll tell you what," said Parkes, when he and Murray 
 had gone some distance together, " old P-Peters is at the 
 b-b-bottom of this." 
 
 " Why do you think so ? " 
 
 " B-because somebody must be, and there's no one 
 else c-could do it." 
 
 The probability of the conjecture grew stronger and 
 stronger in Murray's mind, and caused him increasing 
 anxiety. 
 
 " What ought we to do ? " he said, at last, " I don't 
 want to spoil the old man's game, but I am bound to tell 
 the committee what I know." 
 
 " What d-do you know ? You know n-nothing ; 
 
96 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 h-hold your tongue and lie low— you'll see some f-un. 
 It's t-time to g-give advice wh-en you're asked for it. 
 You m-mark my words ; we shall have old P-Peters 
 b-back again b-before N-ovember." 
 
97 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 Peters had removed the old mare's fore-shoes and was 
 paring her feet with his knife, when his wife came and 
 told him Mr. Marshall had called to see him. 
 
 Besides Sam, the Vicar was the only visitor he cared to 
 see. Others who came to enquire after his health were 
 received with so little cordiality they seldom cared to 
 repeat their visit. 
 
 " How are you, my good friend ? " said Mr. Marshall, 
 as Peters came into the room, " I'm very sorry to hear 
 from Sam that you are out of sorts, but I cannot say I am 
 surprised to hear it. I want you now to listen to me for 
 a little, and not to be offended by anything I say. You 
 are fretting over this business, and your heart is ill at ease. 
 It is filled with hatred and revenge, which act like poison 
 on your system. You know if one member suffers all 
 suffer. You have been hardly treated, but there is the 
 old rule, * do as you would be done by.' Let us try now 
 and work that out together, not fighting and pulling this 
 way and that, like two dogs over a bone, but really arguing, 
 as Plato says, like two hounds working together on a drag, 
 now one of them hitting off the scent, now the other, till 
 they get up to their fox." 
 
 "Where does Mr. Plato hunt?" asked the old huntsman, 
 struck by the force of the simile. 
 
 " He was a Greek philosopher who lived more than two 
 thousand years ago." 
 
 " Greek field-officer was he ? Well, he knew more 
 
 7 
 
98 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 about it than most of 'em ; he ought to have been a hunts- 
 man. It's common sense that is, whoever said it. Hunting 
 is in the head — in the man's head — in the dog's head. Look 
 at old Galloper's head ! — 1 should like Mr. Plato to have 
 seen that head." 
 
 " You're quite right, Peters, and Plato had as fine a head 
 as ever a man had ; but there is one thing a dog could 
 have taught him, which he didn't know. Have you ever 
 noticed that when you hit a dog on one cheek he turns 
 the other to you ? " 
 
 " Well, 1 never hits 'em — I'm too fond of 'm for that." 
 "At any rate," said Mr. Marshall, smiling, "you have seen 
 others hit them, and you know that that is exactly what 
 they do. Now, Mr. Plato, good as his head was, never got 
 as far as that. It was not found out by reasoning, although 
 it is easy enough to reason about it when you know of it ; 
 and there's another thing we know now, that is, that we 
 have a soul, which dogs haven't got." 
 
 " I'm not so sure but what Galloper has," said Peters, 
 shaking his head by way of objecting to the Vicar's 
 argument. 
 
 " Very well, Peters, if you like to think so. Now our 
 souls are divine ; they are, as it were, a part of God, and 
 immortal, and as partaking of the infinite, Peters, are 
 equal — equal in the sight of God. And the soul in the 
 body is like a light inside a bottle — all the same lights, but 
 different bottles — and all you have to think of, Peters, is to 
 keep your own bottle clean and give the light a chance. 
 It's not our fault if the glass happens not to be very good, 
 but it is our fault if we don't make the best of it. And a 
 little milk is a very good thing to clean it with — the milk, 
 Peters, of human kindness." 
 
 " I know, sir," said Peters, as the Vicar paused, " I 
 know if you were in my place you would act very different 
 from me ; and I knows whenever you go away I always 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 99 
 
 VOWS as I'll never run riot any more ; but somehow when 
 1 says to myself ' 'Ware riot, Peters ; 'ware riot ! ' it ain't no 
 use, and I goes off just the same as ever." 
 
 Mr. Marshall, thinking he had preached enough for the 
 time being, turned the conversation to recent events. 
 
 " What do you think," said he, " of the Whiston Wood 
 mystery ? " 
 
 " Just what 1 should expect when people takes to 
 hunting what knows nothing about it. There's Mr. 
 Spinks — he's all right, and would do well enough ; but that 
 Capting ain't no good, and nothing will persuade me that 
 it's for the good of the Hunt to have him at the head of it, 
 and what 1 cares for is the good of the Hunt. Poor old 
 Simpson! 1 can't help laughing. O lor'! Sam tells me he 
 didn't know Galloper when he got home ! " and Peters 
 lay back in his chair and laughed heartily at the scene his 
 imagination conjured up. "I can't- help laughing ! And 
 the bitches under the bed ! " and he went off into another 
 fit of merriment. '*' 1 only hope it hasn't hurt the hounds ! " 
 he added, wiping the tears from his eyes. 
 
 The Vicar could not help joining in the laugh. 
 
 " It won't hurt Simpson," he said, " as Mr. Spinks has 
 paid him for more than he lost ; and his wife soon got 
 over her fright ; but the most mysterious part of the whole 
 story is his nocturnal visitor. No one can make anything 
 of it. Simpson tells a different tale every time, and I 
 believe has by this time really persuaded himself that it 
 was an apparition from some other world. His latest is 
 that the ghost was dressed all in white and had a sepulchral 
 voice ; his horse had wings and eyes that blazed with fire ; 
 and that they vanished in a cloud of smoke, with a voice 
 like the report of a gun. He certainly enjoys vastly the 
 sense of his increased importance. I'm glad to see you 
 laugh, Peters ; 1 think my visit has cheered you up." 
 
 So saying, the worthy man rose to leave the cottage. 
 
lOO 
 
 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 As he passed down the garden he remarked : *' I wonder 
 you don't begin to put things to rights here. A little 
 digging would be occupation for you." 
 
 "It would," said Peters, ''and I've been thinking the 
 last day or two of doing a little. I ain't quite made up 
 my mind, but I've got my spade out, and shall very likely 
 begin in a day or two." 
 
 
 As the Vicar went towards the village it made him 
 happy to think that he had helped a fellow creature a little 
 way along the right road. 
 
 At the door of the wheelwright's cottage, he met Miss 
 Bond and Lord Unwin. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. lOI 
 
 " So you've been to see old Smither ; how good of you ! 
 How is he to-day ? 
 
 *' He is suffering great pain, I am sorry to say," Miss 
 Bond rephed ; " he sits there holding his foot in his two 
 hands, crying ' God bless my poor foot ! God bless my 
 poor foot ! ' and it makes my heart ache to hear him. 
 And between the paroxysms of pain his face lights up and 
 his eyes twinkle with fun, as if he had everything in the 
 world to be thankful for. Lord Unwin is so kind, he 
 carried some things for him all the way from Spetchley ! 
 Papa will insist on sending him his best cigars, and I'm 
 not sure it's wise, as it must make him dissatisfied with his 
 own tobacco ; but it is quite delightful to see how he 
 enjoys them. The dear old man is so patient ! " 
 
 " It is indeed wonderful," said the Vicar, silently invok- 
 ing a blessing on the ministering angel, '* to see how 
 patiently these people bear their sufferings, and how 
 grateful they are to anyone who shows them the smallest 
 kindness." 
 
 " 1 am afraid," said Lord Unwin, "they are not always 
 as grateful as they might be ; but he would be a churl 
 indeed who could be ungrateful to Miss Bond." 
 
 " Perhaps many of us," said the Vicar, " are not as 
 grateful as we should be, but my experience is that those 
 whom we are too apt to call the lower classes dislike being 
 patronised as much as you or I, but never fail to appreciate 
 charity that is without ostentation." 
 
 *' I am sure there is no ostentation on my part," Miss 
 Jessie cried ; " 1 only feel how differently 1 should behave 
 in their place. Of course, such depth of poverty is a 
 revelation to me. One reads of it and forgets it. In 
 America there is nothing like it — in the big cities, no 
 doubt, there is great distress, but in the country, want of 
 food and the actual necessaries of life is unknown. Fancy, 
 Mr. Marshall, what he was telling us this morning : Last 
 
I02 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 winter, when he was ill and couldn't work for so long, and 
 his club money was exhausted, he went to Mr. Mould — 
 the poor-law guardian — for outdoor relief. He was not 
 complaining ; he seemed rather to think it a good joke. 
 Well, Mr, Mould asked him what he had done with all his 
 money. ' All what money ? ' said Smither. ' I suppose 
 you've been earning something all your life,' replies Mr. 
 Mould. ' Yes, sir,' says Smither, ' take it all the year round 
 I suppose I've made about twelve shillings a week.' And 
 Mr. Mould asked him what he had done with it ; and 
 Smither said — and I'm sure his eye twinkled when he 
 said it- — * What would yoti do with it ? There's the rent, 
 half-a-crown a week, and put aside a shilling a week for 
 clothing, and five shillings for food, and then there's the 
 candles, and the soap, and the blacking, and the soda, and 
 the doctor's physic — to say nothing of a glass of beer and 
 a bit of baccy.' And would you believe it, Mr. Marshall, 
 the man said he couldn't do anything for him. If it hadn't 
 been for Mr. Johnson he would have had to go to the 
 workhouse ! How I should like to take him to Spetchley 
 give him a big hot bath, a clean linen shirt, a nice suit of 
 clothes, silk socks, and comfortable slippers, and a good 
 dinner, and after that set him in an armchair in front of 
 the fire and read him an exciting novel ! " 
 
 " Your enthusiasm, Miss Bond, is delightful," said 
 Lord Unwin ; " but I am afraid your guest would feel 
 very awkward in such a novel position." 
 
 " I don't agree with you at all, if by ' awkward ' you 
 mean ' embarrassed ' ; I believe old Smither would 
 always behave like a duke. Don't you think so, Mr. 
 Marshall ? " 
 
 " I am sure," said the Vicar, in answer to her appeal, 
 " that you would be charmed by his manners ; but unless 
 you gave him his saw and his spoke-shave, and let him do 
 an honest day's work, he would soon complain that he 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. IO3 
 
 was tired of a gentleman's life. Our ideas of happiness 
 depend a great deal on what we have been accustomed 
 to ; they are more or less comparative." 
 
 " I don't believe," said Miss Bond excitedly, " that is 
 an axiom of Christianity. Only yesterday evening I was 
 in Tilton's cottage when one of his boys came in from 
 his work. ' He left home at six o'clock in the morning, 
 and had had nothing but a bit of bread and cheese since 
 breakfast. His mother gave him his supper, a great 
 hunk of bread and a bowl of the weakest, greasiest- 
 looking cocoa. I'm not squeamish, but I could not 
 touch such stuff. When he had finished that his mother 
 said : ' Bertie, there's a bit of apple-pudding ; will you 
 have it now, or for breakfast to-morrow ? ' The boy 
 hesitated a few seconds, and then said, ' I'll keep it, 
 mother, for to-morrow morning ' ! Where is the com- 
 parative happiness of starvation ! You, Mr. Marshall, 
 are consistent ; you spend your whole life in doing good 
 to others ; but what do I give ? — my father's cigars and 
 a few jellies that I don't even make myself, and that 
 don't cost me a farthing ! My religion is a sham ! " 
 
 '' But forgive me," she went on, changing in a moment 
 from earnestness to gaiety, " I am usurping your province. 
 I have done preaching. Come back with us to Spetchley. 
 We have a croquet party this afternoon. Lord Unwin 
 and I have challenged all Bosby." 
 
 " I cannot come this moment," said the Vicar, as he 
 took Miss Bond's hand in his ; " but I shall be delighted 
 to walk over with my sister this afternoon, and to take 
 another lesson from you, my dear young lady — this time 
 in croquet. 
 
 "Ah! Miss Bond," said Lord Unwin, as soon as they 
 were alone, "you little know how worthless you make 
 me feel. I don't know why I bother you with my 
 confidences ; perhaps it is because I have never known 
 
I04 MR, SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 anyone toj whom I cared to look for sympathy. There 
 is something sympathetic about you, and I beheve you 
 would understand me better and make allowances for 
 me if you knew how I have been brought up. My 
 mother died when I was quite a child ; I have not the 
 slightest recollection of her. My father was alwa3's 
 away from home, and left me entirely to the charge of 
 servants. At school I learned more wickedness than 
 anything else, and after I left school there was no one 
 to check imy extravagance or keep me from the tempta- 
 tions that were thrown in my way. My father, who is 
 fond of me in his own peculiar way, thought he showed 
 his affection by supplying me with as much money as I 
 could spend. The result was, that when I came of age 
 I found the family estates so hopelessly involved that, 
 to save him from ruin, 1 had to cut off the entail. Little 
 good it has done him or me ! The poor old man is 
 wretched enough now ; but it is not too late for me, 
 Miss Bond, to turn over a new leaf, and do something 
 worthy of a name which ranks among the oldest and 
 most honoured in the history of England. Don't say 
 anything," he continued, seeing his companion about 
 to speak ; " I would rather you took no notice of what 
 I have said. I forgot myself ; but it has done me good. 
 I beg you will forget what I have told you." 
 
 After this the conversation turned to lighter topics, 
 and they presently reached Spetchley, where they spent 
 the rest of the morning setting out the hoops upon the 
 fresh-mown lawn. 
 
 " Missed ! I'm so sorry," said the Vicar, during the 
 afternoon, to Mrs. Spinks, who was his partner in a 
 close and exciting game, '' nothing can prevent his 
 lordship winning now." 
 
 "Never despair," she replied, laughing: "there's no 
 knowing, I may get a chance yet." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. IO5 
 
 Lord Unwin was on the point of making the winning 
 stroke when a messenger came across the lawn and 
 handed him a telegram. He opened it, and read : — 
 " Ostende. The Earl of Winterfield died this morning." 
 "This is a sad ending to om- game," he said, in a low 
 voice, as he wished Miss Bond good-bye ; " I will ask 
 you to be my partner again when I return." 
 
 There was no more croquet that afternoon ; the party 
 was broken up, and the guests took an early departure. 
 
 " Jessie," said Mrs. Spinks, taking the girl's arm and 
 going out into the garden, " 1 want to have a word with 
 you before I go." 
 
 They went down the garden arm in arm. 
 " Isn't it sad about Lord Unwin," said the girl, as if she 
 knew what it was her companion wanted to say to her. 
 " What do 5^ou think of him, Jessie ? " 
 "What do I think of him ? Nothing at all. I'm sorry 
 for him because he seems unhappy." 
 
 "You pity him, Jessie ; beware of him ! he is clever 
 and unscrupulous, and means to take advantage of your 
 good nature. You think you can treat all men with the 
 same unguarded, unsuspicious, open-hearted friendliness, 
 but in this country you will be misunderstood — don't 
 give him a chance of misunderstanding you." 
 
 " But," exclaimed the girl, not pretending to be 
 ignorant of her friend's meaning, " it is impossible he 
 could misunderstand me ! Have I treated him otherwise 
 than I would have treated any gentleman that my father 
 asks to the house ? He dare not abuse our hospitality ! 
 Marry Lord Unwin ! If he were the Prince of Wales, and 
 had a million a year, it couldn't make the slightest differ- 
 ence, because — Oh ! can't you guess ? " — and she threw 
 her arms round Mrs. Spinks. " Come now," she said, re- 
 leasing her friend, " let us go back to the house. We 
 have talked enough for the present." 
 
io6 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 It was more than a week before 'the hounds were 
 sufficiently recovered from their surfeit, and the physic 
 subsequently administered, to leave the kennels. 
 
 On the evening of the eighth day after the catastrophe 
 in Simpson's yard, Sam, carrying an old side-saddle that 
 had lain for years in a loft above the kennel-stables, 
 hurried down to tell Peters that the hounds were to meet 
 at " Wildred's Castle " the next morning. 
 
 " Wildred's Castle " has been a ruin for centuries. The 
 dismantled walls are overgrown with ivy, while here 
 and there an ash or fir has taken root in the crevices 
 of the massive masonry ; in what was the banqueting 
 hall now stands a sturdy oak, and many a fox curls 
 himself in what was once the chimney corner of " my 
 lady's boudoir." Where valiant knight and courtly 
 dame have stepped, the daisy and the dandelion face 
 the sky. At one angle of the ruin stands a tower, less 
 dilapidated than the rest. It is called *' The Bride's 
 Tower " ; and the local guide still points it out to the 
 stranger, and tells his tale with superstitious awe. The 
 legend, which is more credible than most of its kind, 
 runs as follows : — 
 
 "High revel was held in the Castle. W^ildred, the last 
 of the barons of Bosby, had returned from the East with 
 his youthful bride, whose beauty rivalled the stars of her 
 native skies. The torches that blazed along the wall 
 grew dim to those who giized in wonder on her face ; 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. lOj 
 
 the lustre of the jewels which ghttered as they rose and 
 fell upon her breast, or flashed amidst the folds of her 
 flowing robes, waned in the light of her eyes, veiled 
 though these were by the soft fringe of their lashes. She 
 sat at the right hand of the happy bridegroom ; on his 
 left sat Conrad, his brother-in-arms, renowned for knightly 
 deeds in Palestine. Of all the guests he alone was silent 
 and morose, for in his heart a guilty passion did battle 
 with his oaths of chivalry. 
 
 " Loud shouts arose as Wildred called upon his friends 
 and vassals to pledge their fealty to himself and to his 
 lady. 'Rise, Conrad,' he cried, 'and join us in draining 
 a goblet to the " Pearl of the East." ' 
 
 "Conrad rose sullenly, as Wildred raised the chahce 
 to his lips. Then suddenly, as a star shoots athwart 
 the sky, there was a flash of steel in the air, and with 
 a groan the last Baron of Bosby fell lifeless to the 
 ground. 
 
 "The murderer, stepping across the prostrate body, was 
 about to plunge the dagger dripping with the husband's 
 blood into the breast of his bride — and doubtless he 
 could have done so, for every hand was for the moment 
 
 paralysed by the suddenness of the ghastly deed but 
 
 either repenting of his cruelty, or convinced on the 
 instant of the hopelessness of his base desires, he turned 
 the pointed steel against himself, and crying ' To the 
 Pearl of the East,' fell at her feet, bathing her bridal 
 robes in the torrent of his blood. 
 
 " The same night an heir was born to the broad lands 
 of Bosby. The widowed mother held her new-found 
 comfort to her breast, and from that lifeless source 
 there yet flowed life to that which now alone could 
 make life dear. 
 
 " Her maidens heard her crooning to it some strange 
 song, but never a word she spake to them, nor gave a 
 
I08 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 sign. She knew naught of all around her save the babe, 
 for which alone she lived. Alas ! a sudden fear awakes 
 within her sadly-loving eyes — the little lips grow cold — 
 the rose-bud fingers cease to press — the child lay lifeless 
 on her broken heart. 
 
 " Without a word she let them take it from her, and 
 wandering listlessly from place to place, she roamed by 
 night and day the silent woods, with hands outstretched, 
 as if she sought her child. 
 
 " One dark and stormy night she was seen to leave the 
 Tower, to which she never returned. Whether she sank 
 beneath the stream, or found some other resting-place, 
 there is none can tell ; but still, they say, when wreaths 
 of mist float down the dusky glades, her spirit glides with 
 outstretched hands beside the stream." 
 
 At the time Joey took the Bosby Hounds the ruins and 
 the adjoining lands had been for many years in the 
 hands of an absentee landlord, who was content to reap 
 his septennial harvest of faggots and saplings without 
 troubling himself to visit or improve his estate. The 
 shooting was rented by "the Hunt," and the pheasants 
 and rabbits had lately been once or twice in the daytime 
 startled from their sense of security by the approach of 
 guns and beaters ; but as the natives of the locality were 
 superstitious, and the game scarce, not even the most 
 inveterate poacher thought it worth while to venture 
 after dark within the haunted precincts. A sluggish stream 
 wound through the large woods that surrounded the 
 Castle. On both sides high banks over-hung the dark 
 water, and the bridges by which it could be crossed, save 
 for a fallen tree or a plank placed here and there by the 
 wood-cutters, were few and far between. Moreover, the 
 frequent turns of the stream formed such a labyrinth, 
 that a stranger wishing to reach the further side on horse- 
 back would be puzzled to find his way without a guide. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. IO9 
 
 It was getting dark when Peters rode over one of these 
 bridges, and reached a spot on the bank of the stream 
 half-way between that and the next bridge. Here he 
 threw down a spade, dismounted, and hitched his mare's 
 rein over the broken branch of a tree. Then, taking off 
 his coat, he began to dig. The ground was full of roots, 
 and for some time he. made little progress ; at length, how- 
 ever, his purpose became apparent. He was making a 
 trench from the top of the bank down to the level of the 
 water. Often he stopped, straightened his back, and 
 wiped the sweat from his forehead. 
 
 " It's for the good of the hounds," he said to himself ; 
 " I shouldn't do it if it weren't for the good of the 
 hounds." 
 
 As it grew darker he lit a lantern, and, placing it on a 
 twisted root in the face of the bank, resumed his digging. 
 He now made rapid progress, as he had got below the 
 roots that encumbered the surface, and he shovelled away, 
 throwing the earth merrily down the stream. 
 
 When he had finished the trench he proceeded to 
 collect a heap of dried ferns and brambles, which he 
 placed on one side, close to where he had been working. 
 
 " Hulloa, P-Peters ! " exclaimed a voice from among 
 the hazels on the opposite bank. 
 
 Peters jumped as if he had been shot, and the lantern 
 which he had just lifted fell with a fizz into the water. 
 
 " Lor ! Mr. Parkes, how you frightened me ! What 
 brings you here ? " 
 
 " I c-came to look for a knife I left here when I was 
 f-ishing a f-ew weeks ago. How did you know it was 
 me ? " 
 
 " By your voice," said Peters, wondering how he could 
 possibly ask such a question. 
 
 " And w-hat b-brings you here ? " 
 
 ''Well," Peters began, and then paused to invent a 
 
IIO MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS, 
 
 plausible explanation, " you see, Mr. Marshall advised me 
 to do a little digging, and I always tries to follow his 
 advice." 
 
 • *' He will b-be very glad to hear you have f-ollowed it." 
 ■ " Now, Mr. Parkes, you're not going to tell him ?" 
 " Wh-v not ? " 
 
 
 
 m. -. ^ ^- ^ - 
 
 
 
 ^ i- : ji / '' 
 
 
 
 
 
 "Because he wanted me to dig in my garden ; now, 1 
 haven't the heart to dig in that garden. Oh ! Mr. Parkes, 
 its for the good of the hounds, I do assure you ; it's only 
 for the good of the hounds. If Mr. Marshall knew any- 
 thing about them hounds I'd tell him ; but he don't, and 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 I I 
 
 nobody knows what I've suffered. There's no one I can 
 talk to about 'em now Mr. Johnson's gone. I don't think 
 I shall live long like this. There's something inside 
 gnawing away at me night and day, and 1 says to myself, 
 ' Peters,' I says, ' you must save them hounds before you 
 die ! ' " 
 
 With this he began to grope with his spade for the 
 lantern which he presently recovered from the bottom 
 of the stream. 
 
 " I thought 1 should f-ind you t-rying to save the 
 hounds," said Parkes, resuming the conversation. 
 
 " How did you come to think of looking for me 
 here ? " Peters asked, beginning to fear that his only 
 chance lay in taking his discoverer into his confidence. 
 
 " On the p-principle of set a thief to c-catch a thief." 
 
 "Then, sir, 1 hope you will remember there's honour 
 among thieves." 
 
 " I say, Peters," said Parkes, evading a direct reply, 
 "have you paid Simpson for the hounds' breakfast the 
 other day ? " 
 
 " It weren't my fault if they ate his calf and his cutlets. 
 I only told him to leave a few sheep-sk " 
 
 Peters stopped abruptly, seeing he had given himself 
 away completely ; then, throwing down the spade and 
 lantern, and extending his hands in a beseeching attitude, 
 went on : 
 
 " 'Tain't no good denying it ; you know all about it as 
 well as I do. 1 know 1 have no business here, playing 
 this game, but — Mr. Parkes, tell me honestly — if you 
 were in my place, wouldn't you do the same ? " 
 
 " It's all very f-ine, Peters, but it so happens I'm 
 n-not in your p-place ; but honestly, if 1 d-did p-lay the 
 game, 1 d-don't think you would c-catch me at it." 
 
 " That's true, sir ; 1 allow I was making too much 
 noise ; but 1 was thinking everyone would be afraid of 
 the spirit." 
 
112 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " I expect you're not afraid of th-is spirit," said Parkes, 
 taking a flask from his pocket and throwing it on to the 
 opposite bank. "Try to exorcise it, your feet must be 
 wet, and you m-usn't c-catch c-cold." 
 
 Peters went down on his knees and groped about 
 among the leaves, but had to Hght a match before he 
 found the flask. Then, seating himself on the bank 
 opposite his companion, with his feet dangling over the 
 stream, he took the tin cup from the bottom of the flask 
 and poured out some of its precious contents. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Parkes, before I drink your health, I want 
 to know, ' Is it peace ? ' " 
 
 "Wh-at have I to do with y-our affairs, Peters? As 
 far as I am concerned you may d-dig here or anywhere 
 else as m-uch as you like." 
 
 " But how about Mr. Murray and the Committee ? " 
 
 " My dear P- Peters, you needn't b-be alarmed, I am 
 not one of the C-Committee, and have n-othing to d-do 
 with the Hunt or any one c-connected with it, except 
 yourself, who have t-taught me all I kn-ow about hunting. 
 So, by the s-oul of G-Galloper, I swear to d-do what I 
 c-can for the g-good of the hounds — and there's my 
 hand ! " 
 
 As their hands, stretch them as far as they could, were 
 still fifteen feet apart, the grip was only imaginary ; but it 
 was none the less affecting and reassuring to the old 
 huntsman. 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Parkes, thank you!" he said, and 
 then added doubtfully, " I suppose you couldn't manage 
 to keep the Capting from coming too close here to- 
 morrow morning ? " 
 
 "You needn't w-orry about that. It's a thousand to 
 one against his c-coming through here. Just throw your 
 spade over ; if I c-cut away the b-bank where it over- 
 hangs a b-bit just here, it won't make any d-difference 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. II3 
 
 to the C-Capting, and I shall b-be doing you a g-good 
 turn at the same time. There," he said, as he shovelled 
 away the rotten edge of the bank, ''it's easy enou£,^h to 
 g-get down now. Is the b-b-bottom sound ? " 
 
 " Sound as a rock, and only two foot of water ! " 
 
 "Then f-inish the wh-iskey, and ch-ch-chuck back the 
 flask. It's 'time all honest c-cub-hunters were in b-bed." 
 
 " One word, sir," said Peters, as his friend turned to 
 depart, " if you happen to see an elderly gentlewoman 
 out with the hounds you needn't worry yourself to find 
 out who she is, or where she comes from." 
 
 "All right, P-Peters, only t-take care she's not t-too 
 g-good-looking, or Mr. Spinks will be w-anting an 
 introduction ! " 
 
TI4 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 Soon after daybreak the hounds were thrown off at 
 Wildred's Castle. 
 
 In Lord Unwin's absence Crichton was forced to seek 
 assistance elsewhere. " I'm hanged," he said to Parkes, 
 " if I know how to draw this place, the coverts are all 
 so exactly alike, and as for that beastly stream, if they 
 find and go away the other side it will take me a week 
 to find a bridge. Which way had I better draw ? " 
 
 " You had b-better begin this end and go straight 
 through. D-dont g-go too quick, as there is a lot to 
 d-draw, and the lying is very good. The h-ounds won't 
 g-go into the brambles if you h-urry them." 
 
 " Eleu, into covert ! Eleu, in Gaudy ! " cried Crichton, 
 and "tootled" his horn. At the same moment Peters 
 trotted along a ride which went down to the stream at 
 right angles to the one which Crichton was following. 
 
 The latter, hearing some one trotting behind him, 
 looked back over his shoulder. "Who's that sporting 
 old gal ? " he asked. 
 
 " I d-didn't see one," replied Parkes, rejoiced that he 
 was able to give a truthful answer to the question, 
 
 " Yoicks, push him up ! Have at him, my beauties," 
 Crichton cried, once more giving his undivided attention 
 to his hounds. 
 
 Meanwhile, Peters — there being no one in sight — 
 had turned into the thicket, and was pushing his way 
 among the hounds. " Here, Gaudy, good bitch ! " he 
 
MR, SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 115 
 
 whispered. She pricked her ears and came straight to 
 him. " Here, Marksman, Rambler, Fencer, Comiis, Vivid, 
 Promise, Bertha, Ravager, Bounty, Woodbine." In and 
 out he twisted, keeping his head low, and whistling 
 softly as hound after hound answered to his name and 
 fell into the ranks. Galloper was the last hound he 
 overtook. He was on the line of a fox, and would have 
 opened in another minute. At the sound of his old 
 
 
 ( — . ■, y 
 
 master's voice he looked up, and the next instant bounded 
 almost to the saddle-bow, and Peters bent to meet his 
 trusty friend's caress. Crichton could be heard ' yodo- 
 ting ' some distance behind, so Peters rode straight to the 
 place where Parkes had found him digging. He pulled 
 up to count his hounds ; " Eighteen and a half, that'll 
 do." 
 
Il6 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 So saying, he persuaded the old mare to drop carefully 
 into the stream, and in another second was on the top 
 of the further bank. Here, as he stopped a moment to 
 throw the brambles into the trench, and to make sure 
 that he was not followed, he heard Crichton's voice 
 coming faintly through the wood. Then, putting his 
 mare into a canter, and whistling quietly to the hounds, 
 he soon left Wildred's Castle and its visitors far behind. 
 
 " Where are the hounds ? " said Crichton, surprised at 
 their unusual silence, 
 
 "Th-ere's one of them" said Parkes, pointing to a 
 puppy who had evidently lost himself, and was delighted 
 to find that he was not quite alone ; "and th-ere's 
 another." 
 
 This was one of the new draft, who had not been 
 seduced by the attractions of the strange woman. 
 
 " I say, Crichton," said Joey, as he rode up, "where are 
 the hounds ? " 
 
 " In covert I suppose ; where do you expect them to 
 be ? " 
 
 " It's all right if they are in covert, but I haven't seen 
 any of them for some time." 
 
 "There's half a dozen of them at any rate" said 
 Crichton, as some of the rest of the new draft appeared, 
 looking for their lost companions. 
 
 The second whip came up, and said there were no 
 hounds back. 
 
 "Then they must be for'ard" said Joey, "ride on and 
 see if you can see anything of them." 
 
 Crichton now began to blow his horn. He blew long 
 and loud. Five — six — seven — eight. Any more ? Nine 
 — any more? He blew louder and longer, but not 
 another hound appeared. 
 
 The horsemen gazed at one another m blank aston- 
 ishment. "Where are they, Parkes?" cried Joey, in 
 pleading tones. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. II7 
 
 " Your wh-ip says they're for'ard " Parkes replied. 
 Whereupon they all set spurs to their horses and galloped 
 for'ard as hard as they could go. Presently they met the 
 whip coming back. He had seen nothing of them. The 
 first whip was out in the meadow ; no hounds had been 
 near him. 
 
 " They riiust have crossed the river," said Murray, " and 
 given us the slip." 
 
 " H-ow is it we didn't hear them ? " questioned Parkes. 
 
 "Where's the bridge ? " cried Joey ; "which is the way 
 to the nearest bridge ? " 
 
 Some galloped on, others galloped back. It was the 
 tale of Whiston Wood over again. They met, parted, 
 and met again, and could find no trace of the vanished 
 hounds. 
 
 The ground was hard, as there had been no rain for 
 weeks, and Peters was careful to avoid any spot that 
 might have betrayed his flight ; but, for that matter, had 
 the ground been soft, it would have been so cut up by 
 their own horses, that they could not have distinguished 
 the track of the fugitive. So when at last they brought 
 their eyes to the ground they found it hopeless to attempt 
 to detect the hound's footprints. 
 
 " Listen ! " said Joey, who was standing in his stirrups, 
 holding his horse's mane, with his mouth open and his 
 head on one side. " Stand still, do stand still ! I hear 
 them ! " 
 
 They all listened, and heard a wood-pigeon cooing 
 mournfully from a distant tree. 
 
 " Hark ! there's a holloa ! " But their hopes fell when 
 the sound resolved itself into the whistle of a locomotive. 
 A belated cock played them the same trick. The air was 
 alive with far-off sounds, which Joey's imagination con- 
 jured into the cry of his lost pack. 
 
 And all this time Peters was speeding onward with the 
 hounds. 
 
Il8 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 After half an hour's gallop he pulled up outside a barn, 
 and dismounted. Raising the rack- board from its grooves 
 he led his mare inside, and, as soon as the hounds were 
 in the barn, replaced it and closed the doors. He then, 
 by way of precaution, slipped a strong bar into two 
 rings which he found on the inside of the doors, so that 
 they could not be opened from without. 
 
 The old mare, relieved of saddle and bridle, bestowed 
 her attention upon some fresh-cut clover, while Peters 
 threw himself upon a heap of straw, and the hounds dis- 
 posed themselves around him on the boards. Before 
 long they were all asleep, and the only sounds in the barn 
 were the snoring of the sleepers, and a steady munching 
 of clover. 
 
 The farmer to w^hom the barn belonged was named 
 Hutchins. He was his own landlord and a bachelor, 
 and, as agriculture was not unprofitable in those days, was 
 very comfortably off. 
 
 About two o'clock in the afternoon, when Peters and 
 the hounds were still sound asleep, he happened to notice 
 that the barn-doors, which he had purposely left open for 
 the sake of the clover, had been closed, and as he ap- 
 proached the barn was much surprised at being greeted 
 by the united vociferations of the incarcerated pack. 
 
 "Who's in there ? " he shouted, trying to make himself 
 heard above the din. " Open the door ! " 
 
 Peters, who was busily engaged putting himself to rights, 
 vouchsafed no answer before he had carefully arranged 
 his veil over the upper part of his face. Then, silencing 
 the hounds by one or two gentle applications of the whip, 
 and imitating as well as he could the intonation of his 
 assumed sex, he besought Hutchins, who was doing his 
 best to force an entrance, to be careful what he was about, 
 or the dogs would eat him. From the conversation that 
 ensued Hutchins learned little, but the dulcet tones of the 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. II9 
 
 maiden's voice, which were considerably assisted by the 
 muttered growlings of her four-footed companions, suc- 
 ceeded in exciting him to a high pitch of curiosity. At 
 length the maiden yielded to his entreaties, and with many 
 cautions to take care of himself and not to let the dogs 
 escape opened the door just wide enough to allow him 
 to slip in, and closed it quickly as soon as he was inside. 
 
 The barn was dark, and for some time Hutchins, 
 coming out of the strong sunlight, could see nothmg at 
 all ; and when his eye had become accustomed to the 
 subdued light, being very short-sighted, he could see very 
 little of Peters, who had got into the darkest corner he 
 could find. His spectacles, which might have been of 
 some assistance, were unfortunately not in any of his 
 pockets. 
 
 In appearance Hutchins was anything but attractive. 
 He had a big head, rather bald, large black whiskers, a 
 pear-shaped body — the stalk representing his neck — and 
 bow legs, but, like many of his kind, was wont to boast 
 of his popularity with the sex. He and Peters were 
 old friends, and it was his knowledge of his friend's 
 peculiar weakness that had first suggested to the latter the 
 idea of keeping up his disguise, and, encouraged by greater 
 success than could have been reasonably expected, Peters 
 now determined to befool him to the top of his bent. 
 All enquiries as to where he lived, where he had come 
 from, and where he was going to, he answered as vaguely 
 as possible. He, or rather she, was a hound-dealer's 
 daughter, and was taking some hounds down south for 
 her father. To avoid travelling during the heat of the 
 day, she had turned into the barn to rest for an hour or 
 two, and had gone to sleep. She didn't know how long 
 she had been asleep, or where she was going to stay the 
 night, nor yet how long it would take her to get to 
 her destination. 
 
I20 
 
 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 The vagueness of her story rather whetted the curiosity 
 than roused the suspicions of the inveterate lady-killer, 
 who begged her to come up to the house and partake of 
 a little light refreshment. The lady, however, declared 
 that she was not hungry and dared not leave the hounds 
 entrusted to her care. 
 
 
 
 Seating herself upon a truss of hay, as much in the dark 
 as possible, she motioned her admirer to another nearer 
 the door, arranging matters so that a ray of light which 
 came through a chink in the boarding passed between 
 them and prevented the pupil of his eye becoming incon- 
 veniently dilated. In this position she began the following 
 conversation : — 
 
 " Tell me, now that you know all about me, what's 
 your name ? " 
 
 " My name is Hutchins." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 12 1 
 
 " What ! " she exclauiied, apparently much alarmed at 
 the discovery, "not Mr. John Hutchins of Copley ? What 
 would father say if he knew I was in a barn \vith Mr. 
 Hutchins of Copley ? " 
 
 " Why, my dear, should he say anything ? " asked the 
 lady-killer, hardly hoping that his reputation was so wide- 
 spread as the girl's manner seemed to imply. 
 
 " Oh dear ! they tell me he's a terrible man — that no 
 woman can withstand his fascinations." 
 
 " I assure you, miss," said the flattered farmer, '' what- 
 ever reports you have heard of your friend John have 
 been grossly exaggerated. I allow I have a fancy for a 
 pretty face, and perhaps occasionally, under the rose, you 
 
 know but, kiss and don't tell, missie, is my way of 
 
 doing things ! " 
 
 " Lor ! Mr. Hutchins, to hear you talk one might think 
 you was as innocent as a new-born lamb ; but one has 
 only to look at you — Ah me ! " she continued, with a sigh, 
 " I have never allowed a man to kiss me yet, but " 
 
 " Then, dearie, let me have the first ! " murmured the 
 enamoured swain, approaching her on his knees, with 
 protruded lips and an expression that would have upset 
 the gravity of a horse. 
 
 "Stay where you are, or I'll set the hounds on you." 
 
 " Just one, only one," pleaded her gallant and discreet 
 lover, the ray of sunlight playing upon his upturned face. 
 
 " Well, if you will let me stay here till dark I don't 
 mind if " 
 
 " Stay here till dark ! you shall stay here for a week — " 
 The old idiot advanced upon his knees — " or for ever if you 
 like. I've got a nice little farm, and a comfortable house 
 for you, and a tidy bit in the funds." 
 
 The maiden permitted him to put his arm round her 
 waist, and coyly lifting her veil exposed her cheek to his 
 salute. 
 
122 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " How old are you ? said Hutchins, with his arm still 
 round her, for the first time feeling some misgiving ; but 
 the lady only buried her face in her hands, and rocked to 
 and fro as if in paroxysms of pain. 
 
 "Oh!" she cried, "you've put your nasty whiskers 
 into my eye. Oh dear ! what shall I do ? " and she 
 went on rocking harder than ever. 
 
 At last she was persuaded to allow Hutchins to see 
 if there was anything in it. "I'm sure," she said, "you'll 
 find something there that you don't expect to see." 
 
 Hutchins threw open the door and turned to examine 
 the eye that his whiskers had so wantonly injured. 
 
 The girl stood with the light full on her face, holding 
 the lids of the injured eye apart with her finger and 
 thumb. Hutchins approached, stopped, went nearer, 
 stopped again, and rubbed his eyes. 
 
 " You old devil ! " 
 
 The rest of his speech was lost in the clamour set up 
 by the startled hounds. 
 
 However much Hutchins might resent the trick that 
 had been played upon him, he could not help seeing, 
 before long, the absurdity of the whole thing, and was 
 soon joining heartily in the laugh against himself. On 
 learning that his old friend had had nothing to eat since 
 sunrise, he went into the house and reappeared with a 
 plentiful supply of provisions ; and while replenishing 
 his inner man, Peters related to him the history of his 
 adventures. 
 
 " I'm blowed," said Hutchins, when the narrative had 
 come to an end, " if it wouldn't serve you right if I 
 went off to Mr. Spinks and told him all about it ! But 
 you're not looking yourself ; what's the matter with you ? 
 This working all night and getting no sleep all day will 
 knock you up. What's the use of it ? What will it lead 
 to?" 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 123 
 
 " It ain't the work," replied Peters, wearily, " it's the 
 want of it as is killing me. If I can carry on I shall 
 get rid of that ' Capting,' and then maybe I shall feel 
 better. It's very easy to talk, and say ' you ought to do 
 this,' and 'you musn't do that,' but it all depends how 
 you're made. I ain't constitooted that way, and I don't 
 mean to try and alter my constitootion. I'm too old, 
 and what's more I've gone too far to turn back." 
 
 "But you will be found out," urged his friend. " What 
 is there to prevent them going to your cottage now 
 and finding that you're not there ? " 
 
 " My missus will see to that ; nobody won't get into the 
 house as long as she's in the doorway ?" 
 
 " But how are you going to carry it on, as you say ? 
 You are bound to be caught sooner or later." 
 
 "That's just the difficulty," said Peters, laying his hand 
 on the farmer's knee and looking anxiously into his face. 
 " I have a trick or two in my head, but I want someone 
 to help me. That's why I came here." 
 
 " And made a fool of me ! " said Hutchins, recollecting 
 his late folly ; " but come, old friend, tell me what I can 
 do for you ; you wont find me such a darned old idiot 
 when it comes to business." 
 
 When they left the barn the sun was sinking in the 
 west ; the rooks circling above the lofty elms, the 
 pigeon speeding homeward with well-filled crop, the 
 smoke rising straight from the farm chimney in the 
 still atmosphere, and a subtle savour of tripe and 
 onions preparing for Hutchins' supper, combined to 
 give the idea of peace and plenty. 
 
 It was time for Peters to be getting home. The 
 hounds, glad to escape from their prolonged confine- 
 ment, crowded round him as he mounted, and followed 
 him with demonstrations of joy as he led them towards 
 the neighbouring covert. 
 
] 24 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 At a sign from his hand they bounded into the wood 
 and deployed Hke skirmishers through the thick under- 
 growth. " Hark to him !" cried Peters, as Vanguard 
 threw his bell-hke tongue. *' Hark to him ! it's the old 
 grey-back for a soverign ! " 
 
 As he spoke an old dog-fox slipped quietly into the 
 ride not twenty yards from him, and with a wave of his 
 brush, and a wink of his eye — at least, so Peters fancied 
 — disappeared on the other side. 
 
 " Tally-ho ! Tally-ho ! " cried the old huntsman, and 
 laid the clamouring pack upon the line. He stood and 
 heard the hounds leave the wood — the old fox was no 
 ring-runner — and listened as the cry came fainter and 
 fainter — until it died away in the distance. 
 
 The excitement of the day was over, and his late merri- 
 ment was succeeded by a sigh, as, weary in mind and 
 body, he turned and rode slowly towards home. 
 
G 
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 LU 
 
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 H 
 
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 UJ 
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 Z 
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 Ld 
 
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12' 
 
 CHAPTER XYII. 
 
 We will now turn back to Joey and his friends, who were 
 left somewhere in the middle of the last chapter listening 
 for the hounds. Several of the horsemen who came out 
 to meet the hounds at Wildred's Castle — one or two of 
 them being members of the Hunt Committee — had been 
 induced to rise earlier than usual in the hope — it would 
 be kinder, perhaps, to say on the chance — of witnessing 
 a repetition of what had come to be known as the 
 '' Whiston Wood Mystery." Had the new master proved 
 successful in his second essay, they would have been 
 among the loudest in their congratulations. As it was, 
 they were the first to sneer at the fresh proof of his 
 incapacity, nor were they at all particular to conceal their 
 sneers. 
 
 " W^e should have done better to have stayed in bed," 
 said one. 
 
 " We shall have to cut fox-hunting and take to hares," 
 said another. 
 
 " That will be no use," said a third ; " his father cut 
 hairs." 
 
 " You infernal cur ! " cried Joey, who had overheard 
 what was said, turning fiercely on the last speaker. 
 " W^hatever your father was he bred a blackguard ! This 
 is the last time you, or any of you gentlemen, hunt at my 
 expense. You can find the hounds, and hunt them in 
 any way you please, at your own. I will have nothing 
 more to do with you." W^ith which he left the field and 
 rode off in a rage b}^ himself. 
 
126 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 On his way home he met Mr. Bond riding with his 
 daughter and Miss Brain, who was staying at Spetchley. 
 " You are surely not going home already," exclaimed the 
 two ladies in a breath ; " we had an early breakfast and 
 have come out on purpose to find the hounds." 
 
 " No one will be more delighted than I shall be if you 
 can find them," he replied, and then in a few words told 
 them what had happened. The interest they evinced in 
 the matter, and the sympathy of the two young ladies in 
 his misfortune, went a great way to restore Joey to a right 
 state of mind. As it was useless going on they turned 
 and rode back with him to Bosby, the two ladies riding 
 in front, Joey following with Mr. Bond. 
 
 "As you ask my opinion," said the latter, when they 
 were getting near the village, " I will tell you what I 
 think. I don't pretend to know anything about hunting, 
 but. I fancy I am a pretty fair judge of the human species, 
 and 1 calculate you have been badly advised. You 
 should never have got rid of Peters. He knows more 
 about hunting than all of you put together, and my 
 advice to you is to go and consult him straight. 
 
 " You are perfectly right, sir ; I ought never to have 
 got rid of him — but I can't go and consult him." 
 
 " Don't say that, my boy ; remember it is not derogatory 
 to a gentleman to ask another man's pardon, although 
 that man may be his social inferior. What is lowering to 
 one's sense of honour is not asking it when he ought to 
 do so." 
 
 "Indeed, Mr. Bond, you misunderstand me. It is not 
 the * humble pie ' that I mind, but I fear Peters might 
 very justly refuse to accept any apology, or to give me 
 any advice after the way I have treated him." 
 
 "You maybe right, Mr. Spinks. He maybe justified 
 in refusing ; but from all I have heard of the man I guess 
 he won't do that." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 127 
 
 joey rode straight to the kennels and gave his horse up 
 to Sam, saying that he was going to see Peters. There 
 could be no doubt in Sam's mind, seeing the master's 
 dejected air, that the stratagem had been successful, and 
 that if Joey succeeded in getting into Peters' cottage the 
 fraud would be immediately detected. 
 
 " Beg pardon, Mr. Spinks," he said, in the hope that he 
 might avert such a catastrophe, " but Mr. Peters is too ill 
 to see anyone." 
 
 The news of Peters' illness, however, had the effect of 
 strengthening Joey's wavering resolution, and he started 
 forthwith, leaving Sam scratching his head in deep 
 perplexity. He walked slowly, pondering the probable 
 manner of his reception ; and it was with considerable 
 diffidence that he knocked at length at the sick man's 
 door. 
 
 "You can't see him," said Mrs. Peters, placing herself 
 full in the doorway, and without waiting for Joey to speak. 
 " He is ill." 
 
 " I am very sorry, indeed, to hear it, Mrs. Peters. Will 
 you kindly ask him if he will see me ? " 
 
 " Shan't do nothing of the sort," she replied, waxing 
 furious. " You can come and see him when he's better — 
 if he ever does get better ! " and she glared reproachfully 
 upon the author of her husband's sorrows. 
 
 Finding that his humble expostulations produced no 
 effect upon the dauntless Amazon, Joey was about to retire, 
 when Crichton, who had learned his intentions from Mr. 
 Bond, and had followed him on horseback, came quickly 
 through the garden gate, and accosted him without 
 ceremony : 
 
 " Have you seen Peters ? " 
 
 On hearing Peters was ill he exclaimed, " 1 don't believe 
 the scoundrel is ill at all ; he isn't in the house, or you 
 would be allowed to see him. Let me pass." At the 
 
128 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 same time he tried to force his way past Mrs. Peters into 
 the house. 
 
 "You dare !" she cried, and taking full advantage of the 
 height of the step on which she stood, and of her own 
 weight, she put her hands on his chest and hurled him 
 backwards down the path. He narrowly escaped falling, 
 and, recovering his balance, was again returning to the 
 attack, Mrs. Peters standing in an attitude of defiance, 
 looking as large as a church and as ugly as a dissenting 
 chapel, when Mr. Marshall's voice was heard exclaiming 
 " For shame, Captain Crichton, for shame ! " The Vicar 
 said good morning to Joey, and, passing Crichton without 
 taking the slightest notice of him, asked Mrs. Peters if he 
 could see her husband. 
 
 "You can just look in, Mr. Marshall, but don't disturb 
 him. He had hardly any sleep last night, and I am in 
 hopes he may just doze off for a little." 
 
 He entered the darkened bedroom. Its occupant lay 
 in bed with his face turned away from the door, and only 
 the top of his head was visible. He was groaning, as if 
 half asleep. The good old man approached, laid his 
 hand gently on the grizzled head, placed a can of soup 
 that he had brought with him by the bedside, and stole 
 quietly on tip-toe from the room. 
 
 " See if you can get him to take a little of my sister's 
 soup ; I am certain it w'ill do him good," he said to Mrs. 
 Peters, and then turning to Joey added, "Now, gentlemen, 
 I think we had better go." 
 
 They went together as far as the vicarage, with but 
 little conversation by the way. 
 
 One man is a good judge of wine ; another can tell at 
 a glance the diamond from the paste ; another though 
 blindfold, knows silver by the touch ; and the Vicar 
 could instinctively, as it were, distinguish in human nature 
 the ring of the pure metal from that of the base. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 29 
 
 The consciousness of this kept Crichton silent in his 
 presence, but no sooner was he alone with Joey than he 
 began to excuse his own behaviour towards Mrs. Peters, 
 and to accuse Joey himself of ingratitude and want of 
 confidence. 
 
 "It is rather hard," he said, " after all the trouble I have 
 taken for you, not to mention the expense and incon- 
 venience I have been put to on your account, that you 
 should go to Peters behind my back. If you wanted to 
 get me to give up hunting the hounds, and to reinstate 
 him, I would much rather you had told me so to my 
 face. My position, whichever way you like to look at it, 
 is not an enviable one. How could you possibly have 
 seen Peters without asking him to come back ? How 
 could he possibly have helped you unless he was, as I 
 confess I suspected, at the bottom of the whole business ? 
 That is why I tried to force my way into his house. You 
 see the sort of woman Mrs. Peters is. How was I to tell 
 that he was really ill in bed ? Could I possibly take her 
 word for it ? I am sorry now that I tried force, because 
 nothing has come of it ; but that can't be helped. The 
 only way now is to go on as we are, and do our best to 
 find out what it all means. But I tell you candidly, 
 Spinks, if you do this sort of thing again I wash my 
 hands of the whole business. You may find a huntsman 
 where you can, and you and the hounds may go to the 
 devil before I move a finger to help you." 
 
 " Forgive me, my dear fellow," said Joey, taking 
 Crichton's arm ; " I am sorry I have offended you. I lost 
 my temper this morning, and was in such a desperate 
 state I would have done anything. Old Bond as good 
 as told me I ought to apologise to Peters. You don't 
 suppose it was any pleasure to me to apologise ? " 
 
 " Apologise ! what on earth are you to apologise for ? 
 
130 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Surely you can discharge a servant without tendering him 
 an apology three months afterwards ! " 
 
 " Of course I can, but I think it might have been done 
 more kindly than it was. It was rather brutal to write 
 that letter, without an explanation or expression of regret 
 at parting with him. We might at least have broken it to 
 him more gently." 
 
 " Perhaps so, but it is too late to think about that now ; 
 and I'm not sure after all that it is not more merciful, if 
 you're going to take off a man's head, to do it in one 
 stroke than in half a dozen. The question you have to 
 decide is very simple. It is whether I am to remain 
 or not ? " 
 
 " Pray do not think that. I assure you I am most grate- 
 ful to you for all your kindness. I only went to Peters on 
 the chance of his being able to get us out of the dilemma, 
 and had no idea of doing anything that would look as if 
 I had lost confidence in you." 
 
 " Then it's all right. I understand, my dear Spinks ; say 
 no more about it. You may depend on me to pull you 
 through somehow." 
 
 As soon as Peters' visitors had gone Sam emerged from 
 the bedclothes, and, slipping out by the back door — the 
 same way as he came — arrived at the kennels in time to 
 hold his master's stirrup. Neither of the whips had 
 returned, nor was there any news of the missing hounds. 
 
 *' I am afraid Peters is very ill," said Joey, as Sam 
 brought his horse out of the stable. 
 
 ''Afraid he is," said Sam, shaking his head solemnly. 
 *' Leastways, they seemed to think so when I was down 
 there this morning. He certainly weren't at all like his- 
 self. Hounds gone again, sir ? " 
 
 " Gone ? Yes ! — vanished without a sound or a sign 
 of them ! Can you account for it ? " 
 
 " Sperrits," said Sam, gravely, bringing his eye round 
 somewhere about the top of Joey's hat. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 131 
 
 " What do you mean by spirits ? " 
 
 " Well, it was last Sunday that Mr, Marshall was 
 preaching about them sperrits what took them blessed 
 pigs, and I says to myself at the time, I wonder if that 
 Wildred Castle sperrit will be playing the fool with our 
 hounds Tuesday." 
 
 ;>— — 
 
 
 i!ii-- 
 
 / V t ' 
 
 1,0 
 
 / 
 
 I 
 
 
 Having enunciated this startling theory, he lowered his 
 eye with perfect gravity to Joey's face to see what effect it 
 might have. 
 
 "Well, Sam," said Joey, smiling at his superstition, " I 
 certainly thought the days of miracles had gone past, and 
 can only hope the hounds are not all drowned in the 
 brook. If either of the whips come back with any news 
 of them, send me word at once." So saying, he started 
 in pursuit of Crichton, who had ridden on to ''The H^iU." 
 
132 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Mrs. Spixks was nothing if not practical. She did not 
 profess to understand the ins and outs of fox-hunting, 
 nor cUd she attempt to furnish an explanation of what 
 had happened. 
 
 Premising that there must be a solution of the problem, 
 she concluded that all that was wanted was the person 
 ^vho could solve it ; and when she received a letter from 
 Bullock, saying little about himself, but that he had not 
 yet found another situation to suit him, and asking 
 affectionately after Mr. Joseph and the hounds, she 
 came without further argument to the conclusion that 
 he was the very man for the purpose, and promptly 
 communicated her idea to Joey. 
 
 " I agree with you, mother," he said, " that if we had 
 not lost Bullock all this would never have happened ; 
 l)ut I can't offend Crichton. I have already been rude 
 to him once this morning, and after all he has done 
 for me, and the way he spoke to me just now, I am 
 sure he would be very much hurt if I showed anj^ 
 further want of confidence in him. He is no more to 
 blame for our misfortunes than I am." 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense ! What have his or anybody's 
 feelings got to do with it. You are wasting your money 
 and making yourself perfectly miserable, as well as 
 ridiculous. If you have no one who can help you, 
 you must find some one who can. I say, 'send for 
 Bullock.' You leave it to me, and don't worry yourself 
 any more about anybody's feelings." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 33 
 
 'Accordingly, in the middle of luncheon — the hounds 
 naturally being the one topic of conversation — turning 
 to Crichton, Mrs. Spinks began : 
 
 " I am thinking, Captain Crichton, of sending for 
 Bullock to see if he can be of any use. Joey tells me he 
 is afraid my doing so may hurt your feelings, but I can- 
 not see how it can possibly affect you. He will not 
 interfere with you or the hounds ; so, I suppose you can 
 have no objection to my sending for him." 
 
 " I don't see," said Crichton, " what good he can do." 
 " Will you tell me what harm he can do ? " 
 " There is the old saying, ' too many cooks.' " 
 " But how about the broth ? It seems to me unless 
 something is done very soon there will be none to spoil.'' 
 " Of course, Mrs. Spinks, you will do what you wish 
 without consulting me. Only I fancy while Dawkins is 
 here you will not induce Bullock to return." 
 
 " That dilBculty is easily overcome : he will not return 
 as my servant, but will be here as my guest and need not 
 even see Dawkins. Come, Joey, we will write to him at 
 once." 
 
 So sa3ang, she rose from the table, and, keeping Joey 
 well in front of her, went out of the room, leaving 
 Crichton to finish the sherry in no amiable frame of 
 mind. 
 
 Although Bullock could do no harm as far as the 
 hounds were concerned, and might possibly do good, 
 anyone who would give good advice to his victim, and 
 deliver the sheep from the shearer, was the last person 
 Crichton desired to see at the present juncture. He more 
 than guessed that his dislike of Bullock was reciprocated, 
 and he had given him a prominent place on the list — by 
 no means a short one — of those who owed him a grudge. 
 Indeed, ever since he had been compelled to exempt 
 Peters, it had kept on crossing his mind that Bullock 
 
134 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 might be the author of the plot so evidently directed 
 against himself. The more he considered the matter 
 the more necessary it appeared to prevent his coming to 
 Bosby. 
 
 Having come to this conclusion, he went in search of 
 Joey, but found that he and Mrs. Spinks had gone to 
 Spetchley ; and on enquiring if there were any letters for 
 the post, was informed that Mrs. Spinks had taken them 
 herself. Frustrated in his intention of waylaying the 
 letter, he went round to the stables and had a long inter- 
 view with Dawkins, by whom he was persuaded that 
 Bullock, though an excellent groom and a faithful 
 servant, was far too " dunderheaded " to have concocted 
 the plot of which he suspected him to be the author. 
 Bullock, in Dawkins' opinion, was much more likely to 
 spoil a plot than invent one. 
 
 Crichton then returned to the house, somewhat reas- 
 sured by his interview^ with Dawkins, and, not seeing 
 what else he could do, sat down to write to his friend 
 Unwin, urging him to return as quickly as possible. 
 
 The balance seemed to be on the turn, and whatever 
 weight Unwin might have would be thrown into his 
 scale, and counteract that of Bullock in the other. 
 
 Having finished the letter, in which he set forth at 
 length the state of affairs at Bosby, he sat biting the 
 end of his pen, doubting whether his arguments might 
 not have exactly the opposite effect to that which he 
 intended, and induce his friend to remain away until the 
 battle had been fought out, when he might safely return 
 and join the victorious party. While thus weighing 
 the probabilities for and against despatching the letter, 
 a happy thought occurred to him, and he hastened to 
 give effect to it by adding the following postscript : — 
 
 " P.S. — The young fool has just gone off to Spetchley ; 
 he had much better stay and look after his hounds than 
 
MF. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 35 
 
 go dancing attendance on Miss B. I can't imagine what 
 she can see in him. The old Yankee don't seem to care 
 whether his daughter marries a duke or a hairdresser." 
 
 " That will bring him back," he soliloquized, as he 
 addressed the envelope, "The Right Honourable Earl of 
 Winterfield — the * Right Honourable ' — splendid ! I 
 deserve to be a marquis ! I wonder " — licking the 
 gummed edge of the envelope — " if the old chap was 
 better off than he made out. If there is any money I 
 ought to get my share of it ; if not " — taking the neces- 
 sary postage stamps from Joey's stock — "the early bird 
 must marry the Yankee worm. Hang it 1 if I had a 
 coronet — but I can't manage the women — at least not 
 these women. They are a deal too sharp ; I leave them 
 to Unwin." 
 
 With these reflections he sealed his letter with Joey's 
 crest — a horse rampant, holding a pair of scissors between 
 his fore-feet — put on his hat, and strolled down to the 
 post office. 
 
 That night Joey and Crichton sat late in the smoking- 
 room anxiously expecting news of the hounds. It was 
 past 12 o'clock when there was a ring at the bell. One 
 of the whips had come to say that the hounds had been 
 found and were safe in the kennel. At half-past six, 
 so his story ran, he heard them running the other side of 
 Copley Farm. It was too dark to ride except by the 
 road, and he had the greatest difficulty in keeping within 
 hearing of them. They ran due south for miles, but he 
 got up to them at last where they had thrown up in a 
 ploughed field. They had just hit off the line again, and 
 it was all he could do to stop them. They seemed tired, 
 as if they had come a long way. There was not a soul 
 with them. The other whip was still out looking for 
 them. 
 
 Joey went to bed, thankful at least that he was not 
 boundless. 
 
136 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 The second day from then brought an answer h^om 
 
 Bullock. It ran : — 
 
 " Dear Mr. Joseph, — I am very much concerned at 
 
 what you tell me about your hounds, but think I can 
 
 guess how it is done. Don't take them out again till 
 
 I come, w^hich 1 will next Monday, and tell everybody 
 
 you are going to meet at some place Toosday morning, 
 
 7 o'clock, and w^e will go somewhere else at 6.30, but 
 
 don't tell a soul. 1 would come before, but 1 am very 
 
 busy just at present. I am thinking of setting up in 
 
 the private detective line. A friend of mine wants me 
 
 to join him. Don't mind about Dawkins, he will keep. 
 
 Let us clear up the other business first. It was very 
 
 kind of you, Mr. Joseph, to send for me, and I hopes 
 
 to be able to put things straight. My dutiful respects 
 
 to Mrs. Spinks. 
 
 " Your obedient 
 
 '* Bullock." 
 
 It soon got noised abroad that Bullock was coming 
 down to investigate the mystery, and his advent w^as 
 awaited wath no little curiosity. The Monday following 
 Sam met him at the station, and on their way to Bosby 
 showed an unwonted readiness to answer all enquiries 
 concerning Peters, nor was the truth of his evidence 
 one whit shaken by the cross-examination, which con- 
 tinued up to the moment they reached "The Hall," 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 37 
 
 where Joey and his mother received Bullock with open 
 arms. 
 
 Crichton kept out of the way, and Bullock, installed 
 in the back part of the house, was equally anxious to 
 avoid his sworn foe. 
 
 Full of importance, Bullock set to work without delay 
 to make enquiries in every direction. While having his 
 lunch he took the opportunity of examining the butler 
 and several of the servants, for, as he wisely remarked, 
 there was no knowing where he might find a clue to 
 the mystery. After lunch he went to the kennels, 
 where he inspected the hounds, about wiiich he saw 
 nothing very peculiar, and subjected the two whips to a 
 searching examination. After that he drew the village 
 inn, where he was entertained with a hundred varia- 
 tions — each one the only authentic version — of the 
 story. He thought it better not to see Peters before he 
 had exhausted all other sources of information, and, as 
 several persons had advised him to go and see Mr. 
 Parkes, who w^as generally allowed to know more about 
 the Hunt than anyone except Peters himself, he returned 
 to " The Hall," and from there rode over to interview 
 that gentleman. From " old Tom," however, he got 
 very little besides a whiskey and soda and good wishes 
 for his success, and returned home rather disappointed 
 so far with his afternoon's work. 
 
 Peters, thanks to Sam, was not taken by surprise when 
 Bullock called at seven o'clock in the evening. He was 
 sitting in a high-backed chair before the fire, wrapped in 
 a blanket, and looked desperately pale. The flickering 
 light was not sufficient to betray the artifice of chalk and 
 soot by which his sickly look had been obtained. By his 
 side there was a small table on which stood a row of 
 medicine bottles. His visitor, taking the chair placed for 
 him by Mrs. Peters, expressed his concern at finding him 
 
138 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 in such bad case, and lost no time in coming to the 
 business on hand. 
 
 "To tell you the truth," he said, after they had discussed 
 at great length the various possibilities, *' before I came 
 down here I was convinced that you were doing it all 
 yourself, but as soon as I heard that you were actually 
 seen in bed b}'' Mr. Marshall at the very time the hounds 
 disappeared, I saw that was impossible. Who is there 
 now — just think it over again — who knows the hounds 
 well enough to play these tricks with 'em ? " Peters shook 
 his head, and could only suggest Sam, which was absurd. 
 "There's farmers about," said he, "what knows the 
 hounds, but you mus'n't forget the point ; the point is, the 
 hounds don't know them, and I'm bothered if I can think 
 of anybody but Sam. And why should I bother myself, 
 after the way I've been treated. They come down here, 
 and think they are going to hunt a pack of hounds, when 
 they know nothing about hunting. Why ! when them 
 two were in the kennels I couldn't smell nothing but lilies 
 of the valley and lavender water ! How can you expect 
 hounds to hunt foxes, when the air stinks of lavender 
 water ? There's Mr. Spinks, I suppose he has got some 
 of it in his blood and can't help it, but that Capting ain't 
 got no excuse of that sort." 
 
 "You're right there," said Bullock, readily joining in 
 abuse of the Capting, "he is altogether a bad lot ; but Mr. 
 Joseph — he's different. He is that fond of sport he could 
 learn anything. If he had only kept me," he went on, 
 shaking his head with an air of superior wisdom, "and 
 hadn't listened to them frauds, things would have been 
 very different." 
 
 " He gave you the sack, too, did he ? " exclaimed 
 Peters, interested to find that his visitor was a fellow 
 sufferer ; " then you must know pretty well how I feel 
 about it all." 
 
MR. SriNKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 39 
 
 " I do, indeed, Mr. Peters," replied Bullock, drawing 
 his chair closer, "and I'm not a bit surprised that you're 
 took ill by it. It occurs to me that our interests lie pretty 
 much about the same way — we both want to get rid of 
 the Capting ? " 
 
 Peters nodded assent, and Bullock drawing his chair 
 still closer, went on : 
 
 " I think I shall be able to manage that before very 
 long, and I will tell you what I am going to do mean- 
 while. We have given out that the hounds are going to 
 meet at the Woolpack at 7 o'clock to-morrow, and we 
 are going to meet at Bramston cross-roads at 6.30. What 
 do you think of that for a dodge ? " 
 
 Bullock leaned back in his chair to mark the effect of 
 this revelation upon his listener, and waited for his 
 answer, 
 
 " Dev'lish cute, I says. Mr. Bullock, you are a sharp 
 'un ! I don't know when ever I heard of anything more 
 cuter." 
 
 Upon this Bullock and Peters laughed immoderately 
 for some minutes, till the latter was seized by a violent lit 
 of coughing. '' Jemima," he called to his wife, in a weak 
 voice, as he recovered from the attack, " let us have 
 another dose of that stuff " ; and then, turning to Bullock, 
 he said, " You won't think me rude, but I don't think I 
 ought to talk much more to-night." 
 
 His visitor took the hint and rose to go. His last 
 words before he left the house were, " You do what you 
 can, Peters ; I don't expect you to do much, but it will 
 surprise me if we don't do something between us." 
 
 He would have been surprised if he had seen the sick 
 man throw off his blanket, and still more astonished to 
 have seen him, an hour later, entering the kitchen at 
 Copley Farm. 
 
140 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 '' Here you are at last," exclaimed Hutchins, as Peters 
 appeared; "we were just thinking something must have 
 happened, and that you weren't coming. Let me intro- 
 duce you to my nevvy — James Fulton — Mr. Peters. Jim, 
 this is Mr. Peters, the best man that ever sat on a horse, 
 let alone handling the hounds. My nevvy, Peters, is a 
 member of the theatrical profession, he makes all the 
 wigs for the best theatres and all the leading actors and 
 actresses in town. Perhaps you remember him, he has 
 been out with the hounds when he has been down here 
 occasionally." 
 
 James turned his face to the light. He was a small 
 man, a good deal younger than Peters, but about the 
 same size and build. A luxuriant pair of red whiskers 
 and moustaches, on which he evidently bestowed con- 
 siderable care, formed the most remarkable feature of 
 his otherwise uninteresting face. But they recalled 
 nothing to Peters' memory. 
 
 "Don't you remember," said their owner, "giving me 
 the fox's brush the day you killed him in the water- 
 meadow at the bottom of the farm ? " 
 
 " Lor' ! was that you ? " exclaimed Peters, every in- 
 cident of the run flashing to his recollection ; " that was 
 the day we met at Framley ; chopped a vixen in Porter's 
 copse — and she had cubs, too, but we kept them alive. 
 It was many a day before I got over that. Then we 
 found a brace in the gorse field at Herfold, got on to 
 
MR. SPTNKS AND HIS HOUNDS. I4I 
 
 the dog fox, ran through Sherrington's, where he was 
 headed by Colonel Rideabout ; crossed the stream at 
 Pockford ; turned right-handed, leaving Whiston Wood 
 on the left ; brought him along at a rare pace over the 
 heather, and ran into him at last down in the corner 
 of the meadow yonder. I remember you now ! Mr, 
 Johnson fold me to give you the brush, and I said it 
 would make you a pair of whiskers when yours got a 
 bit thin ! You were riding a little horse, almost a pony, 
 with a long coat, and I remember wondering how you 
 ever got through the run," 
 
 " As a matter of fact," replied the truthful James, " I 
 never did get through the run, I lost you soon after 
 the prologue, and I thought, as I had no more to say in 
 that act, that I might as well get off the stage ; and I 
 had just got home when I heard the whole troupe 
 coming this way, and that's how 1 came to be in the 
 death-scene in the last act. And when I was called 
 before the curtain, and you handed up the brush from 
 Mr, Johnson, I made my bow and took what was offered. 
 I can assure you, Mr, Peters, I caused quite a sensation 
 when I got back to our theatre, Mr, Sotheran was 
 playing with us at the time, and he was mad about 
 fox-hunting. He never would wear anybody's wigs but 
 mine after that. It's hanging up in my shop now, and 1 
 always maintain it is the best advertisement a wigmaker 
 ever set up." 
 
 "They've grown a bit since then," said Hutchins, 
 alluding to the whiskers. 
 
 "They are coming on," said the wigmaker, stroking 
 them with justifiable pride, " but they're not up to the 
 mark yet. I've had to shorten the pair a bit that I've 
 brought down for Mr. Peters, but they are very hand- 
 some notwithstanding. They are the very pair that Mr, 
 Sotheran wore himself ; he always said they were the 
 
142 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 best-made whiskers that ever faced the foothghts. The 
 costumes, too, that I have in my portmanteau are 
 wonderful. I got them from a friend who is the leading 
 costumier in the trade. They are exactly identical — 
 short drab cut-away coats (better than red ones, I thought, 
 for our purpose) — striped flannel waistcoats — buff breeches, 
 with fobs — top boots, mahogany tops — -low-crowned hats 
 — the hat is the only thing I'm doubtful about. Your 
 head, I think, Mr. Peters, is a shade smaller than mine, 
 but paper will do that. Then there are the whips, spurs, 
 collars, and the neckties — I shouldn't forget them, one 
 don't often set eyes on articles as sporting as the ties. 
 The profession, believe James Fulton, knows how to 
 turn out a fox-hunter ! But, as time's getting on, it 
 might be as well to have our dress-rehearsal." 
 
 " Supper first, James," said Hutchins, " then the play, 
 and after that a drop of something before we go to bed." 
 
 Peters did but scant justice to the sumptuous repast 
 placed before him. By the time he had told the story of 
 Bullock's cuteness, and they had done laughing over it, 
 his appetite had gone, and for the rest of the meal he sat 
 listening in a dazed kind of way to the incessant theatrical 
 jargon of the wigmaker. His interest, however, revived 
 when, after supper, the portmanteau was brought out, 
 and its contents assorted into the two suits already 
 described. Each article in turn was held up to the 
 light, and examined by Peters with an expression of 
 growing misgiving and alarm, by the wigmaker with 
 increasing pride and delight ; and, the examination over, 
 they proceeded to divest themselves of their outer gar- 
 ments and assume the sporting habiliments severally 
 allotted to them. 
 
 " Goodness gracious ! " exclaimed Peters, looking down 
 at the breeches he had just put on, "there are a dozen 
 buttons and three of them above mv knee. And I'm 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 43 
 
 blow'd if the boots ain't got heels in the middle of the 
 soles like a blessed Frenchman. Young man, you've got 
 your spurs on upside down ! " 
 
 "Have I?" said James; "I'll soon put that right." 
 And he hastened to take off the spurs and turn them right 
 way up. 
 
 " And now you've got the buckles inside ! Have you 
 brought the thongs ? " 
 
 " Is this what you mean ? " asked James, who had got 
 his spurs right at last, drawing forth from the portmanteau 
 two elaborately-twisted red and gold hat-guards. " No ? 
 Then they haven't sent them." 
 
 " Lor' a mussy 1 to think that I should have come to 
 this ! " said Peters, and between laughing and crying the 
 tears overflowed down his cheeks. 
 
 " Cheer up, old man," said Hutchins, who saw the 
 strain was beginning to tell on his old friend's health. 
 " Pull yourself together ; you've got to go through with 
 it. James, bring out the whiskers." 
 
 Before Peters knew what had happened the sprinc^s 
 closed upon his face and he and the wigmaker stood side 
 by side as like as the twins which their own mother 
 couldn't tell apart. 
 
 " Demme," cried Hutchins, holding his sides for 
 laughing, " if you aren't as like as two periwinkles ! " 
 
 "All I can say is," remarked Peters, as he surveyed his 
 costume with woeful disgust, " I never looked such a 
 darned old fool before in all my life." 
 
 The wigmaker who fancied himself not a little in his 
 sporting get up, failed to see how Peters could look a 
 darned fool if they were both so exactly alike, and as he 
 had procured the costumes from the most eminent 
 costumier in London, and was assured by that authority 
 that they were perfect to a point as supplied to the first 
 actors of the day, was annoyed that his discrimination 
 
144 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 and experience in such matters were not properly 
 appreciated. 
 
 " Confound it ! " he said, shooting his hnen, and striking 
 an attitude that he had picked up from behind the scenes, 
 " I think I look dev'lish sporting ! Now, uncle, let us 
 get on with the business. You have to holloa — mind you 
 make yourself heard." 
 
 " Wait a minute," said Peters, interrupting ; " I want to 
 get you to understand exactly what you have to do. You 
 have got to keep as far away from the horsemen as you 
 can, and let no one see you — -you understand ? You 
 must keep your ears open as well as your eyes, and if you 
 hear the hounds coming your way get away from them as 
 quick as you can. When they turn, you turn — you see ? 
 That is all you've got to think about till you hear Hutchins 
 holloa ; and when you hear him holloa, get to him as 
 quick as your horse will take you. Now, Hutchins, let's 
 hear you halloa." 
 
 For the life of him, Hutchins couldn't make a sound. 
 Every time he opened his mouth, his eye caught Peters' 
 red whiskers and he went into convulsions. Eventually 
 he had to go into the passage outside, where he recovered 
 himself, and presently emitted the most frightful noise 
 that ever issued from a human throat. In the whole 
 course of nature nothing could be found like it, and it 
 had, therefore, the necessary qualification of being un- 
 mistakable. 
 
 " That'll do," said the wigmaker, '' that's my cue ; trust 
 me to come on at the right moment ; 1 have not mixed 
 with the elite of the profession all these years for nothing." 
 " Did you hear me ? " asked Hutchins as he re-entered. 
 *'Yes, uncle, I heard you — but look here, if by any 
 chance I don't turn up exactly to the minute you will 
 have to gag a bit you know." 
 
 " All right, my boy. I think you will find your uncle 
 equal to the occasion." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. I45 
 
 Peters sat down and began to change his clothes. 
 
 *' Poor old Galloper ! " he said as he pulled off the high- 
 heeled boots. ''He knew me when I was a woman, but 
 hang me if he will have anything to say to me got up like 
 this," and with the back of his hand he brushed a tear 
 from his cheek. 
 
 Hutchin's was right. The strain was too much for him, 
 body and mind, and the sickness he had feigned was in 
 reality taking hold of him. 
 
 10 
 
146 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 As day dawned the three men started on horseback 
 from Copley Farm on their way to Bramston cross-roads. 
 
 Peters had painted a white blaze down his mare's fore- 
 head, and a white stocking on her off hind leg, which 
 caused a resemblance to the bay mare that the wigmaker 
 bestrode sufficient to defy a closer scrutiny than they were 
 likely to meet with. 
 
 They rode together until they came to the brow of a 
 hanger, overlooking a succession of low hills, covered 
 with heather and bracken, and divided by green glades, 
 which, diverging from the north, opened into the enclosed 
 and more cultivated parts of the country. 
 
 The oak-scrub on the sides of the hills lay dimly visible 
 in the misty shadows, while along the warm ridges bright 
 touches of golden fern glittered in the level rays of the 
 sun, and fir-trees threw long lines across the ruddy heath. 
 And further eastward ridge beyond ridge rose delicately 
 pencilled in softest silver, the furthest how softly and yet 
 how clearly traced against the liquid sky ! 
 
 The prospect eastward seems, as it were, a scene in 
 Fairyland — the land of imagination. It is Youth's 
 vision of the future expanding in the light of Hope, 
 beautiful, mysterious, immeasurable, enchanting and 
 filling with delight. Turn westward, it is the retro- 
 spect of bygone years, still beautiful, but mysterious 
 no longer, uncompromising and distinct. 
 
 " You see that meadow," said Peters, drawing the 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 147 
 
 wigmaker's attention to a treacherous strip of verdure 
 that lay immediately below the hill on which they were 
 standing; "mind you look where we cross and keep 
 well to the headland, or you'll get bogged; and mind, 
 if anyone comes this way, you don't let him see you." 
 With these last instructions he and Hutchins left their 
 companion among the trees on the hanger. 
 
 " Do you think they are going to draw this way," said 
 Hutchins, after they had been standing on the top of one 
 of the ridges for some time in expectation of the arrival 
 of the hounds. 
 
 " They'll come this way, if they come here at all." 
 
 " Hark ! there they are." 
 
 
 
 r^ 
 
 '/. r 
 
 > I 
 
 ./ 
 
 '•">. 
 
 C ■ 
 
 r- 
 
 c^ 
 
 
 
 The sound of a horn came faintly across the hills. 
 Peters moved towards the sound, and crossing over the 
 next ridge descended into the valley beyond. The first 
 whip was already there, but he was standing some 
 
148 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS, 
 
 distance from them down the glade. Now and again 
 they could hear Crichton's voice as he drew along the 
 crest of the hill. Presently a cub crept stealthily from 
 the oak-scrub, but on seeing the two horsemen turned 
 back into the covert. A bend in the ride concealed 
 him from the whip. Hutchins opened his mouth and 
 drew a full draught of the morning air into his lungs. 
 
 " Stop, you old idiot ! " said Peters, seeing what he 
 was up to ; " you'll have your red-headed nevvy down 
 on us. Hold up your hat to the whip yonder." 
 
 At the signal the whip galloped up, and his holloa soon 
 brought Crichton and his hounds to the spot. 
 
 " Tally-ho back," cried the whip, cap in hand, cheering 
 the pack on to their fox. As Crichton came up, Peters 
 with a touch of the spur set his mare dancing among 
 the hounds, and taking his feet from the stirrups, threw 
 his arms around her neck crying '* Wo ! mare, wo ! I 
 shall be off ; I shall be off." 
 
 " Look out where you're coming to," shouted Crichton, 
 as he caught his knee behind the mare's pin-bone, and 
 well-nigh dislocated his hip-joint in trying to pass. 
 
 " What the devil do you bring him here for ! " he said, 
 looking angrily at Hutchins. " Mind the hounds ! By 
 George ! he'll kill one of them before he's done." 
 
 Another dexterous touch of the spur on the far side set 
 the mare going up the lane, just as Joey, Bullock, and 
 the rest of the small field arrived from the other direction. 
 The next moment the hounds hit off the scent, and went 
 back up the hill followed by the horsemen. 
 
 "Rather close quarters, that, Hutchins," said Peters, 
 settling himself in the saddle, "a deal too close to be 
 pleasant. Let's get up the hill and hear what they are 
 doing." 
 
 There was a good scent and the hounds rattled the 
 cub up and down the hills and along the valleys for the 
 
MR. SriNKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 149 
 
 best part of an hour, before he made up his mind to 
 essay the open. Peters, who had been keeping out of 
 
 
 
 the way, presently saw the hounds streaming across the 
 boggy meadow and up the hanger, pointing straight for 
 
150 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 the wigmaker. Several of the horsemen were close 
 behind them. It was an anxious moment. 
 
 "John," he exclaimed, as the hounds checked on the 
 top of the hanger, '' I'm bio wed if he hasn't headed 
 him." 
 
 And surely enough the hounds swung to the left, 
 and came down the hill, across the meadow at the further 
 end, and back to the place where they found. Round, 
 and round again, up and down went the fox, and hounds 
 and huntsmen followed as before. 
 
 The steep hills began to tell on the horses, and they 
 were thankful for a check. 
 
 "What did I tell you, Mr. Joseph ? " exclaimed Bullock, 
 who stood beside Joey watching the hounds as they made 
 their cast. 
 
 " Wonderful, Bullock, wonderful ! You have found it 
 out ; you are worth your weight in gold. Was there ever 
 such a pack of hounds ? What do I not owe you ? 
 Look, there it is — for'ard, for'ard," and, leaning over his 
 horse's neck, he galloped on, blowing his horn in an 
 ecstacy. 
 
 It was not long before the cub began to run short, and 
 the checks became more frequent. The riders, lulled to 
 a sense of security, were sparing their horses, and not 
 pressing so closely upon the hounds. 
 
 " Now's our chance," said Peters, as the cub, dragging 
 his brush, passed close by where he and Hutchins were 
 standing. " Look out ; here they come ! " 
 
 The hounds came steadily down the hill. There was 
 no one in sight. They all felt sure that the hounds 
 would come back to them, as they had already done a 
 dozen times. 
 
 " Yodote, my beauties ! " Peters cried, gently, and, 
 taking a horn from his pocket, blew it ever so softly. 
 " Yodote," he cried again ; and the hounds lifted their 
 
MR. SriNKS A^\y HIS HOUNDS. I5I 
 
 heads. He then rode slowly down the glade for a little 
 way, blowing softly on his hounds. Then looking back 
 and holding up his hand to Hutchins, he went off as 
 hard as he could go, with every hound in the pack at 
 his heels. 
 
 At the same instant Hutchins set off in the opposite 
 direction, JioUoaing like a madman. 
 
 " Tally-ho ! Tally-ho-o ! Tally-ho-0-0 ! " he shrieked. 
 
 " Hark holloa ! Hark holloa ! " re-echoed from the 
 other side of the hill. The galloping of horses mingled 
 with the cries. 
 
 " Which way did he go ? " " Where did you see him ? " 
 " Is it the hunted fox ? " '* Where are the hounds ? " asked 
 a dozen voices at once. 
 
 " He turned in here," cried Hutchins ; "Tally-ho— just 
 by this gorse bush" — another screech — "he's dead beat, 
 we shall have him in another minute," and he went on 
 screeching as if he thought the hounds were five miles 
 off. 
 
 They all holloaed — listened and holloaed again ; but 
 the only one whose voice had any heart in it was Hutchins'. 
 The rest could guess what had happened. 
 
 Joey spurred to the top of the hill ; Bullock flopping 
 his legs against his horse's sides went full speed up the 
 lane ; Crichton galloped down the lane blowing his horn ; 
 the others dispersed in different directions, and Hutchins 
 was left alone shrieking himself hoarse, and becoming 
 more and more alarmed as the minutes went by and his 
 nephew did not appear. 
 
 Mr. James Fulton, after his companions left him on the 
 hanger, spent his time in rehearsing the part he imagined 
 he w'as about to take in the next act according to his own 
 fancy. The apparition of the fox, which came almost to 
 his mare's feet, and the subsequent arrival of the hounds 
 interrupted his study ; this, however, might have been 
 
152 
 
 MR. SPINKS ANH> HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 easily resumed had not the mare's equanimity been also 
 upset to such a degree that he had to give his whole and 
 
 
 y'^"^ 
 
 Wj 0- 
 
 undivided attention to prevent her following the retreating 
 pack. Remembering Peters' instructions to keep away 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 53 
 
 from the hounds he would gladly have moved to a safer 
 distance ; but nothing would induce her to go in any direc- 
 tion but the one she chose ; so he finally came to the 
 conclusion that he had better dismount, which he with 
 difficulty accomplished, and continued the meditation of 
 his part on foot. Just as he was congratulating himself 
 on being' ' word-perfect ' he heard the unmistakable 
 signal for which he had been so long waiting. " That's 
 it, James," said he to himself, "you know your cue. 
 Gently old lady ; woa, gently ! " and he went dancing 
 round on one leg trying to get his foot into the stirrup. 
 " We must come on together you know ! " 
 
 He had hardly reached the saddle, and was endeavouring 
 to get his off-foot into the stirrup, when the mare started 
 down the hill of her own accord. Her object was the 
 same as his, to get to the holloa as quickly as possible. 
 So, keeping her hind feet together, she began to rock 
 straight down the steep side of the hill, regardless of the 
 w^indings of the path which would have led them by a 
 gradual descent to the bottom. Her rider unaccustomed 
 to the peculiar motion with which she achieved an almost 
 perpendicular descent, with his face smarting from the 
 saplings through which he was plunging, shut his eyes, 
 let the reins slip through his fingers, and with his hands 
 under his chin contrived well-nigh miraculously to main- 
 tain his equilibrium till he reached the level. The 
 directions, however, to keep to the headland were for- 
 gotten — or if remembered were of no avail — for the mare, 
 as soon as she found herself at the bottom of the hill, 
 before he could get hold of the reins, set off at a gallop, 
 and landed herself and her rider, the latter with his 
 eyes still shut, in the middle of the bog. In describing 
 a parabola through the air he managed somehow to pass 
 one leg through the reins, so that as often as he tried to 
 rise he was thrown on to his face by the mare struggling 
 
154 Mf^- SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 to extricate herself ; and it was not until she was 
 thoroughly exhausted that he was able to regain his feet 
 and reflect calmly upon the situation. 
 
 Fortunately for him, the meadow, owing to the long 
 spell of dry weather, was not nearly so wet as usual at 
 that time of the year, and he presently discovered that 
 there was a place just to the left, firm enough to support 
 the mare's weight, if he could only induce her to struggle 
 in that direction. 
 
 "If it hadn't been for this blessed bog we should have 
 gone bang over into the orchestra — and 1 don't know 
 which would have been worse," he reflected, as the mare, 
 preparing for another struggle, sat up dog-like in the 
 swamp. 
 
 A final and despairing shriek from Hutchins seemed 
 to urge her to the attempt. 
 
 " Come up, old woman," said the wigmaker, throwing 
 his whole weight on the reins, and pulling her head 
 towards the firmer ground, "we mustn't keep our audi- 
 ence waiting ; they are getting impatient." 
 
 A heave, a grunt, a plunge, and " sock," " sock," " sock," 
 as she drew her feet out of the black mud, and the mare 
 was out of the bog. There was no difficulty about 
 mounting now, as she stood with distended nostril and 
 heaving flank ; and her rider, once more in the saddle, to 
 make up for lost time, stuck his spurs into her ribs, and 
 made what haste he could to keep his appointment. 
 
 By the time they had surmounted the second hill, 
 however, the mare had recovered from her exhaustion, 
 and, catching sight of the horsemen as she reached the 
 grassy glade — the few who were out had by this time 
 come back to Hutchins — she pricked her ears and, with 
 loud whinnies of delight, set off to join them at a canter. 
 
 " Where is your red-whiskered friend ? " Bullock was 
 asking Hutchins ; " I have not seen him lately." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 55 
 
 "Nor have I," answered Hutchins, hoping agahist hope 
 for his nephew's appearance ; " he was here when we 
 found." 
 
 " Exactly ! So were the hounds," said Bullock, with a 
 significant look at Joey, whose sinking spirits rallied, as 
 he thought Bullock had "hit it." 
 
 But at that very moment the missing gentleman 
 appeared. 
 
 Anxious that his " debut," as he called it, should make 
 a favourable impression, he decided to let his mare have 
 exactly her own way, and, accommodating himself to 
 circumstances, adopted an attitude — the prototype of one 
 of the equestrian statues since erected in the metropolis — 
 combining, according to the wigmaker's ideas, the dignity 
 of a commander-in-chief with the graceful ease of an 
 accomplished horseman ; and in this manner came can- 
 tering on, doing his best to prevent the corners of his 
 mouth betraying his satisfaction. As this part of the 
 performance, however, had not been properly rehearsed, 
 and he was unacquainted with the nature of the horse, he 
 was taken quite unprepared, when, on joining her fellows, 
 the mare stopped as dead as a stone. Without an attempt 
 to keep his seat, which he left like a shot from a gun, he 
 threw his arms round the mare's neck — fortunately erect — 
 and swinging round under her neck reached the ground, 
 mortified in mind but uninjured in body. 
 
 " Where the devil have you been ? " said Crichton, as 
 the unfortunate man stood bowing and scraping, like an 
 actor called by the applause of the house before the 
 curtain. 
 
 " In the bog, sir," said Fulton, pointing dramatically to 
 the mud which covered himself and his mare. 
 
 " And what were you doing there ? " said Bullock. 
 
 " Looking for uncle. I thought I should never see him 
 again." 
 
156 MR. SriNKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " Have you seen the hounds ? " asked Joey. 
 
 " Yes ; and I hope I shall never see thcui again." 
 
 " Where did you see them last ? " they all asked at 
 once. 
 
 " Blowed if I know ! They were going up the hanger 
 yonder before I got into the bog. 
 
 . " By-the-by," said Bullock, '' now I come to think of it, 
 how did you know, Mr. Hutchins, that the hounds were 
 coming to Bramston Cross-roads ? " 
 
 Hutchins was prepared for this question, and, thinking 
 that asking a question was preferable to telling a lie, re- 
 plied, " Didn't you tell the keeper to stop the earth ? " 
 
 "Confound that muddle-headed keeper," muttered 
 Bullock ; '* I felt sure some one would let it out." 
 
 It seemed impossible that the hounds could have gone 
 the way indicated by the wigmaker without being seen ; 
 still, his was the latest, and indeed the only, news, and 
 no one had been that way, so they all rode off to the top 
 of the hanger. 
 
 From there they could see for miles in every direction. 
 They could discern the ploughman guiding his team 
 across the distant field, the cattle ruminating, and sheep 
 browsing , contentedly on the brown pastures. They 
 could hear far off the lowing of oxen, the barking of 
 dogs, the shrill whistle of some boy on his way to school, 
 the postman's horn, and close by the buzzing of the 
 bumble-bee, but neither sight nor sound was there to 
 indicate the whereabouts of the hounds. 
 
 "What do you advise me to do?" said Joey to 
 Crichton, breaking the long silence. 
 
 " Why do you ask me for advice ? You had better 
 ask Bullock. You got him down here to put us all 
 richt. Let him do it. He knows more about the 
 hounds than he cares to say. What made him bring 
 you hcrcf — to the very place of all others where hounds 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 57 
 
 are likely to give you the slip. Ask him it lie can tell 
 you who has gone off with them. If you can't see 
 through the whole plot after this, I can't help you. You 
 must be blind. It is the most bare-faced imposture that 
 ever was ! " 
 
 This open denunciation of Bullock caused no little 
 sensation among the bystanders, who were willing to 
 believe almost anything, and were quite ready to accept 
 any explanation of the mystery that was possible as the 
 probable one. None of them knew anything about 
 Bullock, except that he had failed to do what he had 
 professed he could do ; and it seemed most unlikely 
 that Crichton should speak so positively without strong 
 grounds for his assertions. The only one who appeared 
 quite unconcerned was Bullock himself. 
 
 " One moment, Mr. Crichton," he said, " 1 am here as 
 Mr. Spinks' friend. At present I am no man's servant, 
 have no place to lose, and have as much right to speak 
 as you have ; but I don't intend to say anything just now. 
 These gentlemen may think what they like. This is 
 only another item in our little account, which I hope 
 very shortly to be able to settle to everybody's satis- 
 faction." 
 
 Crichton was on the point of making an angry reply 
 when Joey interposed. 
 
 " I will have no quarrelling here. I am the master of 
 these hounds, and I intend to be so. Bullock, I forbid 
 you to speak. Crichton, you have made a most un- 
 warrantable accusation against Bullock, which, later on, 
 you must either prove ®r withdraw ; but let us hear no 
 more of it for the present. What we have to do now is 
 to find the hounds. We had better disperse in different 
 directions. For my part, I don't intend to go home till 
 they are found. Bullock, as you don't know the country, 
 you had better come with me." 
 
158 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 As no one objected to this proposition, they settled 
 how they should go, and separated, Joey and Bullock 
 going in the direction of Bosby. 
 
 None of the others, with the exception of Crichton, 
 were particularly anxious about the hounds, and were 
 quite content to allow the hunt servants to have the 
 trouble of finding them. Parkes, who knew pretty well 
 what had happened, soon persuaded Murray to give up 
 the search, and spend the afternoon among the partridges. 
 Hutchins and the wigmaker, well satisfied with their 
 morning's work, felt a longing for a glass of beer, and 
 before long were back at the farm, while most of the 
 others only waited till they were out of sight to turn 
 towards their respective homes. 
 
 Crichton wandered on alone, cursing his luck, and 
 wishing he had never heard of Joey or the hounds. 
 Bullock's calmness puzzled him. It was unnatural, and 
 meant mischief. He was disagreeably surprised to find 
 Spinks had so much stuff in him. His influence was on 
 the wane. Something must be done to re-establish it. 
 But what ! That was the question. Find the hounds ? 
 Solve the mystery ? It seemed hopeless. He still felt 
 convinced that somehow or the other Peters was at the 
 bottom of it. Was Bullock in the know ? On the whole 
 he thought not. He suspected Hutchins and that red- 
 whiskered ass knew something ; but neither of them 
 had gone off with the hounds. He wished Unwin would 
 come back, but didn't see that he could do much good 
 if he came. Marry the American ? That wouldn't 
 shut Bullock's mouth. Did bullock know anything 
 about him ? He knew something about Dawkins, and 
 there was little consolation in the reflection. Should he 
 have a try for the heiress himself ? Should he try Mrs. 
 Spinks ? His common sense told him he had better leave 
 them both alone. Should he cut and run ? He could 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 59 
 
 always do that, and the comforts of Bosby Hall were not 
 to be relinquished without a struggle. 
 
 While Crichton was revolving these perplexing problems 
 in his mind, Joey and Bullock were riding from wood to 
 wood, from farm to farm, with their eyes on the ground, 
 searching diligently for the tracks of the hounds. 
 
 -A 
 
 ■ ^ 
 
 '^ 
 
 
 Sa} 
 
 
 
 ;>.^^ 
 
 
 3 V'-)\/-V&-2 ■-■i-•^^'^- 
 
 As they came into a by-road leading to Bosby, Joey 
 caught sight of a man ploughing at the far end of the 
 field beyond, and shouted to him to know if he had seen 
 the hounds. The man stopped his horses and looked 
 towards Joey, but showed no further sign of intelligence ; 
 nor was it till Joey had ridden close up to him and 
 
l6o MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 repeated his question a dozen times that he said that he 
 had been there since sunrise and had neither seen nor 
 heard anything of them. 
 
 In the meantime, Bullock had discovered the tracks of 
 two or three hounds in the same field, close under the 
 hedge, and had followed them in the direction of the 
 kennels until they passed through an open gate on to the 
 road. Assuming that the main body of the pack had 
 possibly been headed by the ploughman, and had run the 
 other side of the hedge along the road, where it was im- 
 possible to track them, he cast back, and, entering the 
 adjoining wood, had the satisfaction of finding in one of 
 the sticky rides not only what he expected to find, the 
 footprints of several hounds, but also the fresh tracks of 
 a horse, and, on dismounting to make a closer examina- 
 tion, came to the curious conclusion that the horse had 
 no shoes on his fore-feet. 
 
 "The sly old fox!" he said to himself. "I wonder 
 where he got the horse. And to think it was I that told 
 him where the hounds were going to meet ! Oh ! 
 Bullock, Bullock ! you mustn't let Mr. Joseph know of 
 this ! " 
 
 "What are you doing there, Bullock?" cried Joey. 
 " Have you found anything ? " 
 
 "Yes, Mr. Joseph," said Bullock, getting on to his 
 horse with all haste, "the tracks of the hounds, as fresh 
 as paint ! They have gone down the road straight to 
 Bosby. You can see here where they've gone out over 
 the bank into the road." 
 
 Having skilfully distracted Joey's attention from the 
 spot where he had discovered the horse's tracks, Bullock 
 hurried out of the field, and they set off at a round trot 
 towards Bosby, Joey occasionally exclaiming "For'ard 
 on " as he detected faint impressions along the dusty 
 road. 
 
MR. SriNKS AND HIS HOUNDS. l6l 
 
 "Have you seen the hounds?" Joey shouted on seeing 
 Sam, who had apparently come out to look for them. 
 
 " Kennels," shouted Sam, jerking his head over his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " How long have they been there ?" 
 
 ''Two hours, most of them ; the last is just come in." 
 
 " Did you see anybody with them ? " 
 
 " Not a soul." 
 
 This was the truth, as Peters had thrown them nito a 
 covert close by the kennels, and had left them there, 
 knowing that they would soon find their way home. 
 
 Returning to ''The Hall," joey despatched two of his 
 grooms to let Crichton and the others know that the 
 hounds were found, and retired to his room in profound 
 despair. 
 
 He had not been there long when Bullock entered, 
 holding a letter in his hand. His manner was very 
 mysterious. " I have to go to London," he began, " on 
 important business — most important, I may say — and I 
 hope, Mr. Joseph, you will excuse me for a day or two. 
 When I come back I hope to be able to put things a bit 
 square. Now, Mr. Joseph, the next thing you have to do 
 is to go and see Peters, and ask him to come out with 
 you the next time you take the hounds out. Don't sit 
 there shaking your head like that, Mr. Joseph. You 
 trust old Bullock ; the Capting's right for once, and I 
 do know more than I care to say just at present; I will 
 pull you through. But don't holloa till you're out of the 
 wood, says I. This much I will promise you, Mr. Joseph, 
 that if you do what I tell you you will be out of it this 
 day week. Now, sir, why don't you make up your mindi? 
 I'll tell you what it is, you are downright afraid of that 
 'ere Capting. Now he says one thing, Bullock says 
 another. I say 'go and see Peters,' he says, 'don't you 
 have anything to do with him.' Which is it to be ? If 
 1 1 
 
1 62 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Bullock ain't to have his turn, where's the good of 
 sending for him. You take my advice, Mr. Joseph — go 
 off now, this moment, before the Capting comes home. 
 It's your only chance." 
 
i63 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 Joey yielded at last, but very reluctantly, to Bullock's 
 persuasion. 
 
 His first attempt at reconciliation did not encourage 
 him to make a second. He heard daily from Sam that 
 Peters was better, but had waited in vain for any message 
 to say that his advances were appreciated and that another 
 visit would be acceptable. 
 
 It never entered his head that Mrs. Peters, in the 
 glowing account she gave of her valour in ejecting 
 Crichton, had taken no pains to discriminate between 
 Crichton's behaviour and his own, and that consequently 
 his visit was looked upon as an unwarrantable attempt 
 to force his way into the house ; nor did he know 
 that Peters regarded him as a spy, baffled and outwitted 
 by an old woman and a kennel-feeder. 
 
 Thus, while Joey felt aggrieved that his overtures were 
 not accepted, Peters was endeavouring to justify his own 
 conduct by that of our hero. 
 
 The image of Mrs. Peters in the doorway constantly 
 recurred to him, and he dreaded a second repulse at her 
 hands. He was by no means clear, moreover, in his own 
 mind, that Peters either would or could come to terms as 
 long as Crichton retained his present position ; and to 
 depose him was unjustifiable and out of the question. 
 
 The consideration that at last induced him to accede to 
 Bullock's request — and it was the only thought that gave 
 him any consolation — was that, whatever happened, 
 things could not well be worse than they were. 
 
164 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 As he went through the village the idea occurred to 
 him to ask the Vicar to act as mediator between himself 
 and Peters, and while he was debating the question Mr. 
 Marshall opportunely came out of the Vicarage. 
 
 He was glad to see Joey, and expressed himself willing 
 — as he ever was — to act as peacemaker. 
 
 " I have been wanting to talk to you on this matter," he 
 said, as they walked along together, '' and cannot tell you 
 how rejoiced I am that you are going to see the old man. 
 He has got it into his head that he has been badly treated, 
 and is so obstinate that nothing I can say to him has 
 any permanent effect. I cannot help sympathising with 
 him in a great measure, for there is no doubt he is 
 making himself seriously ill. The noise of the hounds in 
 the kennels, which he can hear constantly, and which he 
 seems to think the sweetest music on earth, continually 
 reminds him of his former life. It would have been far 
 better for him to have gone right away from the neigh- 
 bourhood. I saw him this morning, and he was looking 
 so bad that I ordered him to bed, and sent for the doctor. 
 But 'who can minister to the mind diseased ? ' It is not 
 physic he needs, but some interest in life. A visit from 
 you will do him more good than any prescription a 
 doctor could give him." 
 
 Although Mrs. Peters did not actually bar the doorway, 
 her eyes said, plainly enough, '' I wish you had come 
 alone," as Joey, under Mr. Marshall's wing, entered the 
 room where Peters lay in bed. 
 
 After a few brief enquiries as to the sick man's health, 
 the Vicar, pleading a pressing engagement, took his 
 departure, and Peters and Joey were left alone together. 
 
 The position was embarrassing. The limpness of 
 Peter's grasp when Joey shook hands with him, and the 
 brevity of his answers, could not be ascribed entirely to 
 bodily weakness, and the more apparent it became that 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 65 
 
 Peters did not intend to help him out of his dilemma, 
 the more |oey wished he had stayed at home ; and it was 
 only the idea of meeting Mrs. Peters in the passage that 
 prevented him making a bolt of it. 
 
 At length, despairing of coming to the point gradually, 
 as he had hoped to do, he blurted out : " What do 
 you think -about the hounds ? " 
 
 "Think?" cried Peters, savagely, "I spend all my 
 time trying not to think about 'em ! " 
 
 Another long pause increased the awkwardness of the 
 situation, but, once started, Joey was determined to go on. 
 
 " Do you think you can tell me how or why they keep 
 on disappearing ? " 
 
 " Look here, Mr. Spinks," Peters said, excitedly, raising 
 himself on his elbow, " do you think it is fair to turn 
 away a huntsman and then to come and ask his advice 
 about the hounds ? " 
 
 Joey took hold of Peters' half-resisting hand. 
 
 " I'm very sorry," he said, "very sorry indeed, that I 
 turned you out of your place. I made a mistake — 
 what more can I say? What can I do ? If Captain 
 
 Crichton " He stopped short. ** It isn't his fault," 
 
 he went on, "that he can't hunt the hounds, but " 
 
 He stopped again, not knowing how to express what he 
 wished to say. 
 
 Pity began to work in Peter's heart, and his liking for 
 the boy was getting the better of his ill-humour. 
 
 " It ain't so easy to hunt a pack of hounds," he said, 
 withdrawing his hand, not unkindly, from Joey's. "The 
 Capting thought he could do it, but you see he can't. 
 How could he, when he knows nothing about it ? 
 Where's he learned it ? You can't learn it by walking 
 about in a long coat with big buttons, nor yet by gallop- 
 ing over grass fields and big fences. 
 
 " A woodland country is the only one where you can 
 
]66 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 really learn all about fox-hunting, and there it takes 
 years of patience and perseverance. It ain't the nature 
 of a fox to be preserved in a little bit of a place, and 
 when he's turned out of that to have nowhere to go to 
 unless its five miles off ; he don't get a chance of showing 
 his tricks and dodges, and you don't get a chance of 
 learning them. 
 
 " I allow you may get a very good run that way, when 
 you get hold of a good fox, but it's steeplechasing — ^it 
 ain't hunting. It's all riding then, and keep 'em in sight 
 if you can. Then you come to a bridge or a gate ; if 
 you're first through, all right ; if not, you have to hunt 
 the man in front of you, and won't see the hounds again 
 till they stop and wait for you. You think you're going 
 to jump everything, but there's plenty of places no horse 
 that ever was foaled can jump, and my experience is that 
 a good many that go in for it do most of the jumping 
 over the dining-room table after they get home. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Spinks, you'll hear them laugh at this 
 country, and say you never gets a run ; but 3^ou wait, and 
 you'll see what our hounds can do, and what is more, 
 you'll find that the very first to get left behind are the 
 gentlemen what says their horses are too good for the 
 country. Your horses, I'm told, are wonderful good ones, 
 but unless I am very much mistaken it won't be long 
 before you find they are not a bit too good to follow the 
 old Bosby." 
 
 Mrs. Peters, whose curiosity was aroused at hearing the 
 continuous hum of her husband's voice, here entered the 
 room and stood just inside the door, listening. 
 
 " I remember," Peters continued, sitting up that he 
 might have his hands free to emphasize the points of 
 his story, " it was about the middle of March. It was 
 almost as hot as summer in the morning, and the dust 
 was flying ; but it got chilly in the afternoon and came 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 67 
 
 on to rain. We found an old dog fox about three o'clock. 
 He jumped up in the heather there, where you was this 
 morning. 
 
 "It was fifteen years ago, come spring, and I was riding 
 a little chestnut horse — the best as ever I knowed — he 
 never gave me a fall but once, and that was just after 
 what I am going to tell you. He jumped on to a 
 harrows and split his pastern. It was a sad business, 
 that was. But the scent had improved wonderfully since 
 the morning, and when the hounds were laid on they 
 raced over those hills like the shadow of a cloud — all 
 together — there wasn't no catching 'em. 
 
 " He was a travelling fox, and must have come up 
 after a vixen. We found him lying just outside the 
 earth, and he went straight back where he had come 
 from. When I came out on to the road, I sees 'em running 
 across a field half a mile in front of me. There was no 
 road handy, but the land rode wonderful light that time 
 of year, and, as I said, I was on the little chestnut. I 
 could just keep within hearing of 'em." 
 
 " The rest of the field was following me. They didn't 
 hear or see anything of 'em for miles. I came up with 
 'em on the canal down by Beechbrook. They were 
 standing on the other side with their heads up, looking 
 about for me. I saw what had happened ; the fox hadn't 
 taken the water, but he had got a start of us, and when 
 we hit it off on the other side — he had crossed by the 
 bridge lower down — it was ' noses down ' and the diffi- 
 culties began." 
 
 The old sportsman's enthusiasm was contagious, and 
 Joey sat with ears, eyes, and mouth open, listening to the 
 story of the run, described, to the minutest incident, as 
 vividly as if it had happened the day before. 
 
 At length, carried away by the excitement of the 
 moment when he caught sight of the varmint crawling 
 
i68 
 
 MR SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 along the hedgerow, Peters, seizing Joey by the button- 
 hole with one hand and waving the other in the air, cried ; 
 " And damn it, sir ! " 
 
 'Ml \ 
 
 
 
 r 
 
 \ 
 
 
 7v 
 
 ' ^~' r^K- ■ — - — ' ^ " ~~! ll--tCn— -^iJ) 
 
 .I..0 
 
 
 )/. >-/• 
 
 " Peters ! Peters ! " his wife whispered, hoarsely, from 
 the other end of the room, endeavouring to recall him to 
 his senses. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 69 
 
 " Damn it, we killed him after all ! Jemima ! take 
 down that picter of me on the little chestnut. I'm sure 
 Mr. Spinks would like to see it." 
 
 In the act of taking the photograph of her husband on 
 the little chestnut from the wall, Mrs. Peters struck the 
 tender side of her foot against the leg of a chair. The 
 pain, no doubt, was sharp, but, considering that she had 
 only a moment before been reproving her husband, that 
 
 was scarcely a sufficient excuse for the muttered "d n" 
 
 that reached the ear and tickled the fancy of their visitor. 
 
 A good listener is a godsend, and Joey was as welcome 
 to Peters after his long and almost solitary confinement 
 as a brief to the briefless barrister, or a sail to a castaw'ay 
 upon a coral reef. The old sportman's spirits rose as he 
 spun yarn upon yarn ; his eye sparkled as it had not 
 done for months, and his recent sufferings w^ere forgotten 
 in memories of the past. 
 
 ''Can't you come out with us ?" said Joey, returnmg 
 at length to the first object of his visit; " I'm sure neither 
 Captain Crichton nor myself can do any good unless 
 you give us a hand." 
 
 At the sound of Crichton's name Peters' manner 
 changed instantly. 
 
 " Can't be done, Mr. Spinks, as long as he is there. 
 Do you think the hounds would go to him if I were 
 anywhere about ? It ain't no use thinking of it." 
 
 Joey noticed the sudden change of manner, and 
 realised that the dogged obstinacy of the old man w^as 
 not to be overcome. 
 
 " Can you tell me, then, what to do ? for I must do 
 something." 
 
 " I'll tell you what to do, and what I'll do. I will 
 come out with you if I feels up to it, but I won't go near 
 the hounds. I may be of some use, or I may not. What 
 you have to do is to get out every horse you've got, and 
 
I/O MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 every man you've got, and put all the men on all the 
 horses ; and if you have any more put 'em on mules, 
 donkeys, or anything as has four legs instead of two, and 
 give 'em all strict orders on no account to lose sight of 
 the hounds. If they all stick close to the hounds it ain't 
 possible for anyone to take 'em away. If you had done 
 it before it's as likely as not you wouldn't have lost 'em 
 when you did. As I said, I won't go near the hounds 
 myself ; but I will try and keep somewhere handy that I 
 can be of use to you, Mr. Spinks ; but I won't have 
 anything to do with that ' Capting,' " 
 
 '' Thanks, Peters, thanks," exclaimed Joey ; " I will do 
 everything you say. When shall we go out ? Where 
 shall we meet ? " 
 
 " For that matter," said Peters, "^there's no particular 
 hurry, and I don't feel like riding for a day or two. Say 
 Thursday — that's in three day's time — and say Friar's 
 W^ood, t'other side of Thorncombe ; it's a nice open coun- 
 try, and will do as well as anywhere else." 
 
 " All right. Friar's Wood, Thursday. What time ? " 
 said Joey, as he wished Peters good-bye. 
 
 " There's no use making it too early. Say nine o'clock ; 
 that will give them all time to get to the meet. And you 
 may as well write to every member of the Hunt, asking 
 him as a particular favour to come out. Don't forget, 
 and mind you send out every horse and every man that 
 you can lay hands on." 
 
 Promising once more to carry out these instructions to 
 the letter, Joey departed. When he got home he was 
 relieved to find that Crichton was not in the house, and 
 that he had left word that he had gone down to the Inn 
 to see Lord Winterfield, and would not be back to dinner. 
 
171 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 On arriving at Ostend, whither he hastened after receiving 
 the telegram on the lawn at Spetchley, Lord Unwin found 
 his father was already placed in his coftin. At the foot of 
 the coffin, which was in the Belgian manner, in the form 
 of a Crusader's shield, there was laid an enormous wreath 
 of coloured artificial flowers, to which was attached a 
 card, with a deep black border, bearing the inscription — 
 
 "De Madame Baudin, avec regrets les plus tendres de la vie." 
 
 The window of the scantily-furnished room was open, 
 and the breeze from the sea had scattered a few sheets of 
 paper on the uncarpeted floor. They were all tradesmen's 
 bills, except one, which was an unfinished letter in his 
 father's handwriting. It was addressed to the lady who 
 had sent the wreath, and was a formal proposal of 
 marriage. 
 
 As Lord Unwin put the letter in his pocket he felt 
 thankful that it was written in English, and had probably 
 defied the landlady's curiosity. Had Madame Baudin 
 seen it she would no doubt have appropriated it, to be 
 kept henceforth among her most sacred treasures. He is 
 a hard man indeed who can stand unmoved by some 
 feelings of affection or regret beside his father's coftin, and 
 it was an emotion to which he had long been a stranger 
 that prompted Lord Unwin to conceal the last act of his 
 father's life. The satire was grim enough — the sham 
 letter, the sham flowers — la tendresse de la vie ! 
 
172 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 He ran his eye over the bills ; the smallness of their 
 sum pointed to a very limited credit. 
 
 *' Poor old dad ! " he reflected, '* he has had a rough 
 time of it lately, but what does that matter to him ? It is 
 all over now. Taking it altogether, he enjoyed himself a 
 good deal more than most of us. What a hardened old 
 sinner he was ! It was want of money finished him, as it 
 finishes a good many, and will finish me some day, 
 perhaps much in the same way." 
 
 " Poor old dad ! " he said aloud, as if addressing the 
 coffin ; " you had one weak spot in your heart, and that 
 was for your l:)oy. You let me have the money as long 
 as you had any, and when you hadn't — by Jove ! what an 
 escape that old lady had !" His meditations were inter- 
 rupted by the entrance of the doctor, for whom he had 
 sent a messenger immediately on his arrival in Ostend. 
 
 The doctor was a short, strongly-built man, with a 
 round, close-cropped head, and a moustache like a tooth- 
 brush. He had a florid complexion and weak eyes, 
 whose expression was partly concealed by blue spectacles. 
 He was more matter of fact and less gushing than 
 foreigners usually are, and, after the first salutations, 
 waited for the Englishman to speak. 
 
 " I am obliged to you for your telegram," his lordship 
 began, ** and sent for you instead of calling myself at your 
 house, as I wished to know as soon as possible to what 
 cause you attribute my father's death." 
 
 " Certainly, my lord," replied the doctor, speaking 
 French with a strong provincial accent, " I will let you 
 see the certificate which 1 have given to the authorities," 
 saying which he took a paper from his pocket-book and 
 handed it to Lord Unwin. '* You will see," he went on, 
 " that 1 have ascribed the late Earl of Winterfield's death 
 in that certificate to failure of the action of the heart, 
 which is certainly in exact accordance with the truth." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 73 
 
 "And this, my lord," he continued, taking another 
 paper from his pocket-book, '' is my Httle account." 
 
 Lord Unwin looked at it in surprise. 
 
 "Two thousand francs !" he exclaimed. " How long 
 was my father ill ? " 
 
 " I have attended the late Earl of Winterfield for some 
 little time." 
 
 " For what complaint ? " 
 
 " Well, my lord, 1 think latterly my patient did not take 
 so much nourishment as he had been accustomed to, and 
 suffered a good deal from weakness in consequence." 
 
 " You infernal scoundrel ! Do you tell me my father 
 was starving, and then charge me two thousand francs 
 for watching him die ? " 
 
 " I beg your pardon, my lord, but these little matters 
 cannot be arranged without some expense." 
 
 So saying, he produced a small blue phial, which he 
 withheld from Lord Unwin. 
 
 " My lord, 1 am sorry that I cannot let this little bottle 
 out of my hand. You see what it is — you see the label, 
 you see the colour of this bottle. I found it lying by the 
 side of the late Earl of Winterfield." Lord Unwin saw 
 the doctor's eyes looking steadily at him over the blue 
 spectacles ; they were hard in spite of their weakness, and 
 cunning, but he could not doubt the truth of what he 
 said. He knew now why the letter was not finished. 
 
 " You insinuate," he said slowly, " that my father 
 poisoned himself ? " 
 
 The doctor bowed assent. 
 
 "And if he did," said Lord Unwin sharply, "what is 
 that to you ? " 
 
 The doctor shrugged his shoulders, and replied, 
 " Nothing, my lord, certainly nothing ; but I thought you 
 might prefer to avoid the scandal of an inquest." 
 
 "And what if I prefer to have an inquest rather than 
 pay your exorbitant demands ? " 
 
174 ^^R- SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 '' Certainly, yovi can have an inquest if you prefer it." 
 
 "Then how about this certificate," said Lord Unwin, 
 striking the paper that he held, "that you have already 
 given the authorities ? " 
 
 The doctor smiled and said quietly, " I can say quite 
 easily that this little bottle was not found till afterwards, 
 and that " 
 
 " But I can tell them," said Lord Unwin interrupting, 
 " that it was found before ! " 
 
 " But you were not present, my lord, when it was 
 found." 
 
 " No, I was not ; but 1 can tell them the whole story." 
 
 " So can I tell my story too, my lord, and I have the 
 advantage of being a Belgian." 
 
 The game was too evidently in the doctor's hands. 
 The truth must be hushed up at any price — but eighty 
 pounds would make almost a clean sweep of what he had 
 managed to scrape together in London. The only thing 
 left was to make the best bargain he could. With this 
 intention Lord Unwin began : " You are quite right, 
 doctor. I am afraid I spoke somewhat excitedly just now, 
 but you will make some allowance for me under the 
 circumstances. I appreciate the delicacy of your thought 
 in wishing to spare me any unnecessary pain in connec- 
 tion with this sad affair ; but as for your charge of two 
 thousand francs, I assure you that is more than I possess 
 in the world. You are incredulous, I see. 1 suppose you 
 think, like most foreigners, that every English nobleman is 
 a Croesus. I have the misfortune to be an earl and a 
 beggar. You do not suppose if I had any money I should 
 have allowed my father to die like this ! 
 
 " I am exceedingly sorry, my Lord Winterfield, if I 
 seem rapacious, but as I said, these little matters cannot 
 be arranged without certain expenses ; there is the burgo- 
 master to be considered — he has signed the certificate, 
 
MR. S PINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 75 
 
 and there is my own reputation, which is worth some- 
 thing in Belgium." 
 
 " Then let us say one thousand." 
 
 "That is quite impossible. I must again say two 
 thousand — two thousand or " 
 
 The doctor, instead of completing the sentence tapped 
 the phial significantly. 
 
 Lord Unwin took out his cheque book. 
 
 " I regret, my lord, that I can only accept cash." 
 
 " But, supposing I have not got the cash ? " 
 
 "Then my lord must procure it. Perhaps one of the 
 banks, or the English Consul — he is a kind gentleman — or 
 my Lord Winterfield, your father, had friends in Ostend 
 He was writing a letter " 
 
 " If you speak another word I'll break your head ! 
 Sit down ! " Lord Unwin cried as the doctor rose from 
 his seat, and he proceeded to count the bank notes — ten, 
 twenty, thirty, eighty. 
 
 "There ! take them and never let me see your face again. 
 I have not five pounds in the world to bury my own 
 father." 
 
 " But my Lord Winterfield can write a cheque or " 
 
 The doctor without waiting to finish what he was going 
 to say, made his escape to the nearest bureau de 
 chauge. 
 
 Twelve pounds some odd shillings was all Lord Unwin 
 had left to pay the bills and get the coffin to England, 
 and the bills alone amounted to over three hundred 
 francs. The idea of burying his father in Ostend or 
 anywhere but in the family vault, or of leaving his father's 
 bills unpaid, he, to do him justice, did not contemplate 
 at the moment. These duties were sacred, if anything 
 were sacred, and must be performed. 
 
 He sat facing the wreath. " ' Madame Baudin, Villa 
 Bon Esperance.' That infernal doctor ! What devil put 
 it into his head ? I'm hanged if I can do it ! " 
 
176 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " But you could pay her back," suggested an inward 
 counsellor. 
 
 He laughed. " 'When will you pay me, say the bells of 
 Old Bailey ? I do not know, says the great bell of Bow.' 
 By Jove, it's a long time since I played oranges and 
 lemons. I was a happy little devil then. Poor Bessie, 
 that was the first time I ever saw her. How little she 
 thought My God ! what a brute 1 have been ! " 
 
 For the first time in his life he felt remorse. It was 
 an unpleasant experience — a sensation to be got rid of 
 as soon as possible, and carefully avoided for the future. 
 He began to walk up and down the room whistling, but 
 the sight of the coffin stopped that. So he walked on 
 without whistling, and every time he turned towards the 
 wreath he saw " Madame Baudin, Villa Bon Esperance." 
 
 " Good hope, good hope," he repeated. '' I can't stand 
 this ; I must get out into the fresh air ! " 
 
 It was a fete day. Boys and girls were running races 
 on the sands ; thin horses and lazy donkeys were being 
 beaten along the shore ; rockets were bursting in the air, 
 and fire balloons sailing down the wind. Near the fish 
 market there was a crowd collecting round a raised 
 platform, on which two fisher lads were seated opposite 
 one another at a table. They were blindfold, and each 
 held before him a bowl of porridge and a wooden spoon. 
 They were trying which could be the first to get his 
 porridge down the other's throat. They held their 
 mouths wide open, and the crowd shrieked with delight 
 as they bedaubed each other's faces with the mess. 
 
 At another time Lord Unwin might have enjoyed the 
 fun, but now he turned away in disgust and wandered 
 on. Suddenly it occurred to him that possibly his father 
 had an account at some bank in Ostend. He wondered 
 that he had not thought of it before, and hurrying back 
 to his father's lodgings procured the address of the bank 
 from the landlady. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 77 
 
 The bank manager was extremely civil, but regretted 
 that Lord Winterfield's account was 33.25 frs. overdrawn. 
 Perhaps one of Lord Winterfield's tradesmen would 
 oblige. He was sorry it was not in his power to cash a 
 cheque. 
 
 Lord Unwin found his way back to the digue and 
 wandered down the line of villas that faced the sea. It 
 was absurd to be disappointed. What hope could there 
 have been of finding money in the bank ? " What hope ? 
 Good hope, good hope," he repeated to himself, and then 
 drew his hand across his eyes to find out if Bon Esperance 
 had got upon his brain or if it were really there in front of 
 him. Yes, there were the gold letters glistening in the sun 
 upon the door post. 
 
 He turned and walked aw^ay, rapidly at first, then slower 
 and slower, till he stopped. Again he turned, and slowly 
 retraced his steps to the gilt letters, and rang the bell. 
 
 Madame Baudin was at home, and he was shown into 
 the salon. As he looked around, while waiting for her 
 to appear, he summed up his impressions in one word,. 
 " Money." 
 
 " By golly ! poor old dad — no wonder ! " was the ex- 
 clamation that he involuntarily made as Madame Baudin 
 entered the room ; but, advancing towards her with a 
 smile that an angel might envy, he bowed respectfully 
 over her outstretched hand. 
 
 The charm that won the toleration of Mrs. Spinks 
 made short work of Madame Baudin, whose ears readily 
 drank in the insidious flattery, which a thorough know- 
 ledge of the French language, and a good accent, made 
 appear natural and sincere even from the lips of an Eng- 
 lishman. Within ten minutes of- his first introduction, 
 Lord Unwin felt he might safely venture on obtaining the 
 object of his visit, but, like the angler who allows the 
 pike to gorge his bait before striking — or, to use another 
 12 
 
178 
 
 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 
 X 
 
 simile, like the surgeon who lets his patient come under 
 the full influence of his anaesthetics before commencing a 
 crucial operation — he thought it more judicious to make 
 assurance doubly sure by allowing his victim time to 
 absorb his flattery and feel the full force of his fascinating 
 power. 
 
 " Ah ! Madame," he said at last, taking one of the 
 widow's hands tenderly in his, " knowing as I do the 
 regard you have for my dear father's memory, and know- 
 ing, too, the delicate sentiment that you inspired in his 
 breast, so touchingly expressed in your own words, ' Ics 
 phis teiidres dc la 7'ie ' — a sentiment as imperishable as the 
 wreath itself " 
 
 He paused, and a tear like the first drop of a thunder 
 shower fell heavily upon his shirt-cuff. 
 
 " It is this knowledge, dear Madame Baudin," he went 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 79 
 
 on, " that emboldens me to ask a favour — a favour that 
 I could not ask of anyone but yourself." 
 
 He paused again while she assured him there was 
 nothing he could ask that she would not grant. He then 
 went on to explain that there is often a difficulty in 
 getting money in a place where one is not known, that 
 there were several small sums — small at least for one in 
 his father's position in life — owing to various tradesmen ; 
 that the doctor's fees were considerably larger than he 
 anticipated, and that the expenses of the transport of the 
 coffin were very heavy. His inexperience, the suddenness 
 of the shock, and the haste with which he left home were 
 some excuse, he hoped, for his being so unprepared. He 
 would rather have waited for the money to be forwarded 
 from England, were it not imperative that he should 
 return as soon as possible to look after the family estates. 
 Could Madame Baudin, he concluded, possibly make it 
 convenient to cash him a small cheque ? 
 
 The lady expressed her regret at having no money in 
 the house, but was willing to write a cheque for any 
 amount he liked to ask ; and she produced her cheque- 
 book. Lord Unwin did the same. 
 
 " How much do you wish ? " said the lady. 
 He made a rapid mental calculation as to how much 
 he could venture to ask. 
 
 " Possibly," he said, " some of the better-to-do trades- 
 men would wait, as they would know that my father had 
 money to his credit at the bank, on which I could not 
 draw immediately. In that case — it is unfortunate that 
 his death was so sudden— perhaps 5,000 francs would 
 
 cover all that is absolutely required " 
 
 The widow's countenance plamly showed him he had 
 not overshot the mark, and he went on : " but of course 
 I would rather leave nothing unpaid, and if your means 
 allow you to make it 10,000 frs., I shall be eternally 
 grateful." 
 
l8o MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Without any hesitation Madame Baudin went to her 
 escritoire and wrote a cheque for 10,000 frs., and then 
 Lord Unwin took the pen from her and drew one on 
 his London banker for ^400. 
 
 " A thousand times a thousand thanks, dearest lady," 
 he exclaimed, as they exchanged cheques, " your gene- 
 rosity will be its own reward. Ah ! If only my dear 
 father could have lived ! " 
 
 Refusing her pressing invitation to stay and dine, he 
 left with further protestations of eternal gratitude, and 
 betook himself to the most fashionable hotel, where he 
 endeavoured to drown his conscience — and for once it 
 died hard — in the best champagne that money could 
 procure in the town. 
 
 The next morning, as soon as the banks were open, he 
 cashed the cheque, and having collected the necessary 
 official papers and made arrangements for his passage by 
 the evening boat, took the train to Bruges, where he 
 might spend the day without fear of running up against 
 Madame Baudin, or receiving a visit from any of his 
 father's creditors. 
 
 Upon his arrival in England any notions that he may 
 have had of placing money to his credit to meet the 
 cheque for _:^40o were dispelled b}^ the family solicitor, 
 who openly avowed his satisfaction on finding that his 
 lordship had sufficient to pay for the funeral, for there 
 was no use attempting to disguise the fact that not one 
 single penny could be raised, even for that purpose, upon 
 the remaining securities. 
 
 The funeral took place in the village church where the 
 Earls of Winterfield had been laid for generations, and 
 within a quarter of a mile of the farmhouse where Mary 
 Spinks spent her childhood. To the new generation that 
 had grown up the wicked earl was no.thing but a name, 
 and the procession, consisting of the new earl and the 
 solicitor, roused little interest in the village. 
 
MR. SriNKS AND HIS HOUNDS. iSl 
 
 Knowing the advantage of having a considerable 
 amount of ready money, Lord Unwin, henceforth to be 
 called Lord Winterfield, lost no time in getting back to 
 London, where by artifices best known to himself, he 
 succeeded in doubhng his capital in a very few days, and 
 was in a fair way to multiply it still further when he 
 received -Crichton's letter, hinting at the possibility of an 
 alliance between Joey Spinks and Miss Bond. He left 
 town the next morning for the inn at Bosby, where 
 Crichton, who had spent the best part of the day looking 
 for the hounds, found him the same afternoon. 
 
 Mutual admiration between scoundrels must be based 
 on their respective qualities as such ; accordingly, though 
 neither Crichton nor Lord Winterfield would trust the 
 other a yard further than he could see him, they duly 
 appreciated one another's strong points, and were delighted 
 to meet again. 
 
1«2 
 
 CHAPTER XXIY. 
 
 Persuaded by his friend that no time must be lost if he 
 wished to prevent the pubhc announcement of the engage- 
 ment of Miss Bond to his supposed rival, Lord Winterfield 
 walked over to Spetchley early the next morning, 
 
 A small steeplechase course had been laid out in the 
 park, and there he found Joey and the two young ladies 
 on horseback. Jessie Bond and Mary Brain were become 
 inseparable friends. The latter, who had ridden from the 
 time she wore short frocks, was an accomplished horse- 
 woman, and was giving the former a lead over the fences, 
 while Joey, as riding-master, rode alongside giving his 
 instructions. 
 
 " Let him have his head, Miss Jessie — chuck up your 
 chin when he rises — well done ! you have the knack of it 
 now, and if you can sit over a hurdle you can sit over a 
 house." 
 
 The word "Jessie" was the only part of Joey's speech 
 that reached Lord Winterfield's ears, and he muttered to 
 himself, " Humph ! It has got as far as Christian names at 
 any rate." 
 
 Only to the graceful horsewoman is the riding habit 
 becoming, and Miss Bond looked perfectly bewitching as 
 she patted the neck of her horse, who, excited by the 
 jumping, was tossing his pretty head and throwing the 
 flecks of foam from his lips. The lovely colour which the 
 exercise had brought into her cheeks, the sparkle of her 
 laughter-loving eyes, and the elegance of her whole figure, 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 183 
 
 were more than enough to account for the pang of 
 jealousy that shot through his lordship's breast. Rich or 
 poor, high-born or low, she was cut out for a duchess, 
 and she was actually thinking of throwing herself into the 
 arms of a hairdresser. To be cut out by a little brute 
 like Spinks ! But it hadn't quite come to that yet. 
 
 
 ^^ 
 
 o 
 
 .ViU^ 
 
 
 
 Such were Lord Winterlield's reflections as he watched 
 them careering round the park. Still it is difficult for a 
 man on foot to make love to a lady on horseback, and 
 as the time passed slowly by he felt he was not making 
 much progress with his suit. 
 
 " I'm so sorry. Lord Winterfield," said Miss Bond, as 
 she drew rein where he was standing, " that you are not 
 riding. Won't you go and get one of my father's horses ? 
 
184 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 He would be delighted, I am sure, for they want exercise. 
 Or would you prefer," she continued, as he declined her 
 offer, "to join my father? He is shooting on the farm 
 close by ; I heard his gun just now. Will you go and find 
 him and bring him back to lunch ? " 
 
 He gladly availed himself of the suggestion, and, guided 
 by the frequent report of the gun, which seemed to show 
 that partridges were plentiful, he had no difficulty in find- 
 ing Mr. Bond. The old gentleman had been shooting 
 straighter than usual, and was in high spirits. He welcomed 
 the young man warmly, pressed him to take his gun, and, 
 when he refused to do that, despatched the under-keeper 
 at full speed to fetch another from the house. By the 
 time the keeper returned with the gun and a bagful of 
 cartridges, they had driven a lot of birds into the turnips. 
 The dogs worked steadily, and the birds sat like stones. 
 
 " Beautiful ! beautiful ! " exclaimed the Yankee, as his 
 companion, with unerring precision, killed every bird that 
 rose before him. " Superb ! no tailoring, no legs down, 
 no runners ! That comes of being brought up to it. 
 Come up and shoot whenever you like ; if I am not here, 
 there's the keeper and the dogs. You are always wel- 
 come to them ; and there are any number of partridges. 
 If I had had the luck to have a son I should have liked 
 to see him shoot like that ! " 
 
 Thinking that here was an opportunity that he ought 
 not to miss. Lord Winterfield said : 
 
 " All you can do, Mr. Bond, is to take care that your 
 son-in-law is a good shot." 
 
 " Ah ! Jessie— yes, I suppose she will marry some day. 
 Isn't she a lovely child, Lord Winterfield ? She has 
 taken to riding lately. You must see her on horseback. 
 It is superb ! " 
 
 Lord Winterfield readily acquiesced, and having 
 expressed his admiration of the young lady, said : 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 185 
 
 " Your daughter asked me to bring you back to lun- 
 cheon ; would you mind returning with me now, as there 
 is something I am particularly anxious to speak to you 
 about ? " 
 
 They had come to the end of their beat, and Mr. Bond 
 was quite ready to oblige him. Telling the keeper that 
 he would want him again in the afternoon, he took the 
 young man's arm, and, as they turned towards the house, 
 said : 
 
 " Now, Lord Winterfield, I am at your service." 
 
 " It is a very delicate matter," Lord Winterfield began, 
 ''and one on which 1 have wished to speak to you for a 
 long time, but have hesitated for many reasons. I only 
 speak now because I fear I may hesitate too long." 
 
 As he paused, Mr. Bond laughed. 
 
 " I can't help you till I know what you are hesitating 
 about." 
 
 Lord Winterfield was surprised to find he was getting 
 nervous. 
 
 " I want to speak to you about your daughter." 
 
 A look of sadness came over Mr. Bond's face. 
 
 " For a long time," the young man went on, " in fact, 
 since the first day I saw her, I have wished to — to make 
 her my wife. I knew that some day she would be rich, 
 and I was a poor man." 
 
 He paused again, but a nod from his companion told 
 him to go on. 
 
 " This is what has prevented my speaking before. My 
 father's death has made very little difference in my income, 
 but I have succeeded to his title ; I have inherited one of 
 the oldest and most honoured names in our country, and 
 that, perhaps, is an offering not unworthy of your only 
 child." 
 
 He felt, somehow, that he had struck a wrong note, 
 and the old man's silence increased his nervousness, but 
 he had to continue. 
 
1 86 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " You may not think that that is a good reason for my 
 speaking to you now, but there is another reason. It is 
 possible, I am afraid, that your daughter may become 
 entangled — I didn't mean that, Mr. Bond, I assure you — 
 engaged, I should have said, to some one beneath her in 
 social position, to a man who could not give her the 
 opportunity of displaying her many charms in the 
 society in which she deserves to move, to which she 
 would be so bright an ornament ! It would be more than 
 
 a pity if she made such a niesaUiancc " 
 
 *' Stop ! " said Mr. Bond, sternly, and at the same time 
 he dropped his companion's arm and stood facing him. 
 " You have said enough. What is it you want ? " 
 
 " I wish to have your leave, sir, to court your daughter. 
 
 I think if she knew that it was your wish " 
 
 " Lord Wintertield ! " Mr. Bond broke in abruptly. 
 " I am not an Englishman, and perhaps do not under- 
 stand your customs ; and as I am not a lord I may not 
 be able to grasp the importance which you attach to a 
 title. I am a man who has no sort of reverence for 
 customs or titles, as such. I value them only when they 
 are held by good men. 1 know nothing against you 
 personally, and have, therefore, not the slightest objection 
 to your courting my daughter. Your being poor does 
 not make any difference to me. What is mine is my 
 daughter's — she is a rich woman. But do not think I 
 shall say one word to influence her choice. Your allusion 
 to what you are pleased to term a mesalliance is lost upon 
 me. Any man who is as good and pure as she is is a 
 match for her, and none other. To him my hand and 
 my heart are open. The man Jessie loves — be he prince 
 or peasant — she shall marry. He shall have her for the 
 asking. Whan shedoes make her choice — for women 
 have an instinct in these matters that we have not got — 
 it will be a good one, or she is not what I believe her to be. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 87 
 
 Bring Jessie to me " (there was a slight break in his 
 voice), " and you shall have her with my blessing. But 
 let us get back to the house, you must be hungry." 
 
 " Bring her to him," there was the rub. She made her- 
 self extremely agreeable to Lord Winterfield as to every- 
 one else. Her manner was perfectly frank and natural. 
 She did not openly avoid him, or show any preference for 
 Joey's company ; but as soon as ever he contrived to be 
 alone with her for a moment, Miss Brain was sure to 
 make her appearance. So Lord Winterfield spent several 
 wet days fruitlessly at Spetchley. However, if he did not 
 advance his suit, neither did " that little brute Spinks," 
 and he had come to the conclusion that Crichton was 
 wrong. 
 
1 88 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 The meet at Friar's Wood had been fixed at nine o'clock, 
 in the hope that every member of the Hunt to whom Joey 
 had appealed would be induced to attend at that hour. 
 At seven o'clock that morning, Peters sat at the table in his 
 parlour ; his breakfast was before him, but it remained 
 untouched. His breeches and gaiters were covered with 
 mud, and as he sat with his elbows on the table, leaning 
 his head upon his hands, he looked desperately tired and 
 ill. In vain his wife coaxed him to eat. " You can't go 
 on like this," she said, " it ain't worth it. You'll kill your- 
 self — you're not fit to ride — give it up, and send word to 
 Mr. Spinks that you are too ill to go out." 
 
 " You don't understand, Jemima. A woman never does 
 understand. It's no use arguing with 'em. What's the 
 good of giving it up before I've tried ? " 
 
 " But you have tried, and it has done no good." 
 
 " Yes, it has done good, and I'm going to try again. If 
 it don't come off this time, I'll give it up." 
 
 " Then try and eat a little something do, there's a good 
 boy." 
 
 She took a morsel of bacon on his fork and put it to his 
 mouth, but he turned away from it. 
 
 " Can't do it, Jemima. But the horse will be here in a 
 few minutes ; let us have my boots and breeches, and the 
 old red coat — the oldest of them, it's a lucky one. No, I 
 shan't want my horn — not this time — next time, maybe." 
 
 The idea of carrying the horn again cheered him up. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 89 
 
 He rose, pulled himself together, and began to get into 
 his hunting kit. 
 
 " I'm tired," he said, as his faithful consort buckled on 
 his spurs, "that's all as is the matter with me. If I had 
 time to get forty winks I should be all right." 
 
 A knock at the garden gate announced the arrival of 
 Mr. Spinks' groom. He was leading a mare — a chestnut, 
 two white stockings on her hind legs, five years old, a 
 trifle under 15.3, with an amount of bone rarely seen in a 
 thoroughbred. Her quarters were muscular, body not 
 too long in a mare, girth deep, chest strong and prominent, 
 fore-arm — Peters vowed he had never seen anything like 
 it — shoulder perfection, withers high, neck strong and 
 elegant, ears small, eye full and generous, muzzle fine, and 
 the head withal well poised and blood-like. 
 
 Peters walked round her again and again. 
 
 " That's the best bit of stuff ever I saw ! Are they all 
 like that ? " 
 
 " Most of them are pretty good," replied the groom, 
 " but this is the best of the lot according to my fancy." 
 
 " So I should think," said Peters, " or anybody else's 
 fancy. Put that leather up half a dozen holes. Well, I 
 never," he exclaimed, as he settled himself in the saddle ; 
 " it's like having the roof of a church between your legs. 
 Gently my beauty ! What action ! It's just as if she 
 was made of indiarubber ! The Capting gave a long 
 price for her, did he ? Then it's about the only good 
 thing he has ever done." 
 
 " Looks like business, the pair of 'em," said the groom 
 to Mrs. Peters, as they watched her husband ride away. 
 " Good morning, mum, I must hurry back ; every man 
 jack of us is turning out to-day." 
 
 Peters trotted quietly along towards Friar's Wood. 
 
 "What have we got here," he said, opening a sandwich 
 case at the back of his saddle. " Beef — that's very kind 
 
190 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 of Mr. Spinks. And what's this ? Whisky ? No, brandy. 
 That's very thoughtful of him. I could teach that boy." 
 A nip of the brandy did him a world of good, and by 
 nine o'clock, as he approached Friar's Wood, he felt a 
 different man. 
 
 The rain of the last two or three days was succeeded 
 by a fog, which grew thicker as the sun rose higher. 
 There was no wind, and the rays of the sun, now getting 
 weaker every day, were unable to dispel the vapours they 
 had raised. 
 
 The Hunt turned out in force — men and women, girls 
 and boys — the last kept away from school by an epidemic 
 of measles — on all sorts and conditions of horses. There 
 was much excitement and more talking. Everyone had 
 something to say about the great effort that was about 
 to be made, on which the very existence of the Bosby 
 hounds seemed to depend. 
 
 " Where is Parkes ? " asked someone. " We can't get 
 on without ' old Tom.' " 
 
 " He's somewhere about ; " said Murray, " 1 rode to the 
 meet with him." 
 
 " That's all right," exclaimed a dozen voices together. 
 
 "Good morning, ladies; good morning, gentlemen," 
 said Joey, as he rode up ; and half a hundred voices said 
 "good morning." 
 
 " Hounds are looking well, Captain Crichton, con- 
 sidering," said Colonel Rideabout, with a stress on the 
 last word. 
 
 " The Colonel" invariably said and did the wrong thing 
 at the wrong time. 
 
 "Well enough to leave you behind," replied Crichton. 
 
 "Good morning, my lord," the Colonel went on, un- 
 abashed, as Lord Winterfield came up. "Your horse 
 looks a bit fat. You have not been out much lately, 1 
 suppose." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. I9I 
 
 His lordship, taking no notice of " the Colonel," drew 
 up beside Crichton. » 
 
 *' Have you seen Peters ? " he asked, in a low voice. 
 
 " I have not seen him, but he is here. Find him out if 
 you can, and keep your eye on him." 
 
 Peters had kept on the lower side of the wood, where 
 he was found by the inevitable Parkes. 
 
 "G-good morning, P-Peters; wh-ich way d-do you 
 think the h-hounds will run this morning ? " 
 
 " Which way is the wind, Mr. Parkes ? " 
 
 *'01d Tom" wet his forefinger and held it in the air. 
 
 " If there is any, it is n-orth-west." 
 
 "Then, sir," Peters whispered, "I expect them to run 
 very nearly dead against it. If you stand down by that 
 oak tree at the far corner, you're as likely as anywhere to 
 get a view ; and if you hear the hounds coming your 
 way you won't do any harm if vou give them a holloa ! 
 There is something the matter with my throat this morn- 
 ing, or I'd do it myself." 
 
 " I c-can do that much for you," said Parkes, " b-b-ut 
 how a-b-bout the f-ox the k-k-eeper p-p-added in here this 
 morning ?" 
 
 The old man smiled : "Well, Mr. Parkes, I don't mind 
 telling you that was the top of my middle finger and the 
 point of my knife." 
 
 " Old Tom " laughed and rode off to take his stand by 
 the oak tree, w^hile Peters made his way to the road, and 
 took up a position some distance from the hounds, but 
 within sight of several horsemen, amongst whom he recog- 
 nised Lord Wmterfield. 
 
 " How d'ye do, Mr. Peters ? I see you've got your 
 fore-shoes on this morning." 
 
 Peters looked round to see the speaker. 
 
 " Mr. Bullock ! I needn't ask how you are ; I see you 
 have your head screwed on the right way to-day. I've 
 
192 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 been expecting you to come down and see me, to tell me 
 where t-he hounds was going to meet." 
 
 Bullock laughed, winked, and patted his left side in a 
 mysterious manner. " I've been to town. It's all done. 
 I've got it here," he said, and patted his side again. 
 " You needn't give yourself any further trouble." 
 
 " Confound the old fool ! " said Peters, to himself, as 
 Bullock went on towards the hounds. " What does he 
 mean ? I hope he ain't going to spoil my little game." 
 
 Meanwhile Joey was making preparations for throwing 
 the hounds into the covert. 
 
 " I want some of you," he said, addressing those who 
 were nearest to him, " to ride to different points to make 
 sure that the hounds don't break covert without being 
 seen. The keeper says we shall find at once. He 
 padded a fox fresh in there this morning. Don't get too 
 close together ; let him have a chance of getting away." 
 
 The first whip had ridden down to the corner where 
 Parkes was standing. 
 
 " I'll stay here," said the latter, '' you g-get al-ong a b-bit 
 — j-just a little f-urther than you c-can see." 
 
 The whip was followed a few minutes later by Colonel 
 Rideabout. 
 
 "G-get b-back a bit, and k-keep your eye down that 
 ride," said Parkes ; and the Colonel, pleased to be noticed 
 for once in a way, hastened to obey orders, and, with his 
 back to Parkes, gazed steadily into the wood. 
 
 He was no sooner posted than Murray arrived. 
 
 " G-get along d-down the b-bottom, Murray ; there's no 
 one in sight." And Murray followed the first whip. 
 
 He had hardly disappeared in the fog when there was a 
 whimper. Parkes listened. Two or three hounds opened. 
 They were coming towards him. He hesitated a moment 
 to make sure, and then holloaed. 
 
 It was the true ringing note of the seasoned sportsman. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 1 9$ 
 
 "That's Parkes' holloa," said Lord Winterfield, who was 
 with Crichton ; " get to him as quick as you can." 
 
 With his horn to his lips, Crichton cleared the fence 
 and landed in the field where Parkes was cheering the 
 leading hounds on to the line. 
 
 Tally-ho ! Hark-holloa ! Gone away ! resounded on 
 all sides, as the horsemen came pouring down in every 
 direction. In their anxiety to follow their instructions 
 and keep the hounds in sight, many of them overshot the 
 body of the pack, and Joey had all he could do to keep 
 them back, but the hounds, stooping to the scent, in a few 
 seconds were vanishing in the mist, and the horsemen, 
 thinking they had waited long enough, broke from control, 
 and started in pursuit. 
 
 The fences were blind, and there were few gaps. It 
 was no use looking for gates in the fog. Those who 
 didn't mean to go straight might as well have stayed at 
 home. 
 
 
 A^\) ,^-^ " \ "^ 
 
 '--^^^.[''j^rz^- A^'vc 
 
 
 \. T\±l 
 
 ^'^^ ^ -Ail A rs 
 
 ^^•€>-^- 
 
 The first fence stopped more than a third of the field, 
 Bullock among them. A few who were fortunate in 
 
 13 
 
194 ^^^' SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 finding a gate were so long in opening it that they never 
 heard the hounds again. After the first ten minutes 
 there were half a dozen empty saddles which their late 
 occupants were hopelessly pursuing in the surrounding 
 darkness. 
 
 " Have you seen my horse ? " shouted the Colonel, 
 as the gardener's boy sped past on the pony that pulled 
 the lawn-mower, a mile in the rear of the hounds ; but 
 the boy was much too intent on the pursuit to answer. 
 
 The grooms were riding — one and all — in an half-a- 
 crown-an-hour-at-the-seaside sort of way. It was a treat 
 they were not likely to get again, and they meant to make 
 the most of it. ''There goes Mr. Dawkins," cried one 
 of the stable lads, as his chief took a header over his 
 horse's ears at a stiff post and rail. "Come up 'os," and 
 the feather-weight landed six yards into the next field. 
 Loose reins — whips and spurs — tear and blazes — blood 
 and thunder — on they went ! But the hounds were 
 getting further away in spite of it all. They were running 
 as fast as ever and almost mute. 
 
 The horses were not in condition for this sort of 
 thing, and bad riding soon told its tale. Some refused, 
 some fell, some stopped completely exhausted. Twenty 
 minutes fromnthe start the hounds were still racing, and 
 there seemed no chance of a check nor a notion of a 
 turn. Any rider who had turned from the bee-line had 
 been left behind. 
 
 Half-an-hour gone, but half a dozen were within hear- 
 ing of the hounds, joey's second horseman, who had 
 been riding with the best of them, broke a stirrup-leather 
 and fell heavily. Murray got stuck up on a bank, his 
 raking bay getting his hind leg into a stiff binder that 
 lay along the top. By the time he got clear the hounds 
 were gone, and the horse's tail going 200 to the minute 
 forbade him to go on. Lord Winterfield pulled his horse 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. I95 
 
 into a walk. Both the whips had got to the bottom of 
 their horses, and were compelled to dismount. The 
 whole way was strewn with wrecks, like the coast of 
 Cornwall after the destruction of the Spanish Armada. 
 
 Crichton still led the way, followed by Joey half a 
 field behind. The former, magnificently mounted, rode 
 with consummate judgment. Joey, good rider as he was, 
 could not hold a candle to him. It was only his advan- 
 tage in weight that enabled him to keep him in sight. 
 
 "This way, Spinks," cried Crichton, looking back over 
 his shoulder, as they approached an impracticable beech- 
 hedge. One or two of the tail hounds were scrambling 
 through between the roots. Close to them, on the right, 
 was a gap filled by a rough paling about four feet high. 
 Crichton steadied his horse at it, and Joey turned in the 
 same direction. Crichton rose well over the paling and 
 disappeared. A sheet of water rose in the air, and Joey 
 pulled up just in time to see the horse's ears with a boot 
 on either side of them above the green surface of a pond. 
 " Don't stop for me," Crichton spluttered, as his head 
 reappeared covered with slimy weed ; " get on to the 
 hounds, or you will lose them 1" 
 
 Fifty yards to the right, Joey had the luck to hit off a 
 line of gates, lying in the direction in which the hounds 
 had gone. Pushing his horse along as well as he could, 
 he soon overtook a hound plodding painfully after his 
 companions, and then, to his great relief, heard them 
 again, not far in front of him. "There they go," he cried, 
 " and I'm alone with them. If I can only kill this fox ! 
 Peters was right. Why didn't we do this before ? I sup- 
 pose this is what has happened every time, and no one 
 has been there to see it ! " 
 
 As the pace had slackened considerably, he pulled his 
 horse into a trot, and, taking out his horn, blew it spasmo- 
 dically as he went along, in the hope of letting Crichton 
 hear where he was. 
 
196 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Suddenly the hounds wavered and spread. They were 
 in the middle of a grass field. " That's funny," said Joey, 
 who stood still waiting till they had made their cast, " he 
 must be for'ard. For'ard ! For'ard ! " he cried, and 
 galloped across the field trying to blow his horn. Not a 
 hound looked at him ; some lay down, some stood staring 
 about ; they were scattered all over the field. Joey 
 holloaed and screamed, but without the slightest effect. 
 " If only Crichton were here ! " he exclaimed ; " where 
 can he be ? " And like the heathen of old, who vowed 
 hecatombs to Diana, he swore he would give a hundred 
 pounds to see Peters. 
 
 If the goddess ever answered the prayer of her votary, 
 he could not have been more agreeably astonished than 
 Joey was when the sound of a galloping horse came on 
 his ear, and a red coat on a chestnut horse emerged from 
 the mist. " Peters ! " he cried, " they brought it as far as 
 this, the fox has gone on, but 1 can't get the hounds to 
 come to me." 
 
 " Give me your horn, Mr. Spinks, they'll come to me." 
 
 " Too-to-to-to-to-too — too - to - to - to - too " — the hounds 
 ffew to the sound. 
 
 "Get on to him, get on to him," cried Joey, popping his 
 whip as he galloped after them. " By George ! I thought 
 he couldn't ride," he exclaimed, a minute afterwards, as 
 Peters popped over a stiff fence without appearing to 
 notice it, and, only half liking it, he just managed to get 
 his tired horse over the same place. 
 
 Peters held the hounds on for a quarter of a mile. 
 
 " Where the deuce is he going to ? " said Joey, hardly able 
 to keep up with him, *' the man must be mad ! " But as 
 he said the words away went the hounds upon the scent. 
 " Peters," he shouted, " I'll give you that mare ! " 
 
 Presently the hounds flashed over a road into a large 
 wood, and threw up once more. They could not own the 
 scent in the covert. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 197 
 
 V 
 
 
 ir 
 
 - ^^ / 
 
 h^^ 
 
 V 
 
 
 V 
 
 " He has run the road," said Joey. 
 
 " Not he, sir ; you stay here in case he sHps back ; I'll 
 get for'ard with the hounds, and don't come on till you 
 hear the horn." 
 
 Peters disappeared, and Joey waited. Five minutes 
 
198 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 went by, ten minutes, a quarter of an hour, and Joey was 
 perplexed, but still stuck to his post. Again came the 
 sound of a horse galloping along the road. 
 
 " H-ulloa ! Spinks, wh-ere are Ihey?" Parkes called 
 out, as he came in sight. 
 
 Joey explained what had happened. 
 
 " There's s-omething wrong," said Parkes, opening the 
 gate into the wood ; " it's no use st-staying here, we must 
 get on." 
 
 As they rode down the wood they met the chestnut 
 mare coming back without her rider. 
 
 " Parkes ! " cried Joey, in an agony, " Peters is killed ; I 
 know he's killed " ; and he set spurs to his horse, leaving 
 Parkes to catch the mare. 
 
 
 
 XV 
 
 In a meadow just outside the wood, he came upon the 
 hounds, and in the midst of them, close to the ditch, lay 
 the old huntsman. Flinging himself from the saddle, 
 Joey fell on his knees beside him. Peters' cap had fallen 
 off, his eyes were closed, and his face was as pale as death. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. I99 
 
 Joey tried but failed to lind his pulse ; he then tried to 
 hear if his heart was beating, but his own was beating so 
 violently he could hear nothing. Parkes came up leading 
 the chestnut mare. " He's dead," cried Joey ; " I know 
 he's dead, and it is all my fault." 
 
 On the ground, close beside Peters, lay a fox's mask 
 and brush. ' Parkes got off his horse, and put them in his 
 pocket ; then, kneeling beside Peters, he raised his head 
 on his knee. •' B-brandy, Spinks, quick ! " he said, and 
 Joey gave him the flask from Peters' saddle. He moist- 
 ened the bloodless lips, and, saturating his handkerchief, 
 laid it on his forehead. Presently Peters opened his eyes, 
 looked vaguely about him, and began to feel for some- 
 thing by his side. " All r-ight, P-Peters, they are in my 
 p-pocket." The old man smiled and closed his eyes. 
 
 '' L-ook sharp, Spinks, get on to the chestnut, she is as 
 fresh as p-paint, and gallop b-back to the road. Half a 
 mile to the left you'll find B-brain's h-ouse — a white 
 house with g-green sh-utters, you c-can't miss it, tell them 
 to send a c-cart at once. We must get him b-between 
 hot b-blankets as soon as we can." 
 
 For some minutes Parkes kept on bathing his old 
 friend's forehead, and chafing his hands, with more than 
 a woman's tenderness. Peters opened his eyes and looked 
 at him. 
 
 '' It's all r-right, Peters, but you must lie still. D-don't 
 worry yourself. It will all c-come right now." 
 
 Crichton got his horse out of the pond uninjured, and, 
 guided by Joey's track and the sound of his horn, followed 
 him at a foot's pace. At the gate entering the wood he 
 was surprised to find the tracks of three horses, and, 
 following them along the ride, he eventually came up to 
 Parkes at the very moment that the latter was telling 
 Peters it would all come right. 
 
 " How the devil did you two get here ? " 
 
200 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " B-by land, old ch-ap. You seem to have c-come by 
 w-ater," ' 
 
 " It's all a confounded fraud, and you are at the bottom 
 of it. It was you who holloaed. If you saw a fox, or if 
 the hounds have been within a mile of one this morning, 
 I'll eat my hat ! " 
 
 " Y-ou can eat your b-b-boots, too, for all I care." 
 
 " That infernal old rascal ! " Crichton began, shaking 
 his fist at Peters. 
 
 '' L-ook here, Crichton, you had b-better sh-ut up." 
 
 " Why should I sh-ut up ? " 
 
 ** B-because I'll p-p-punch your head if you don't. 
 As soon as I get Peters into bed I'll g-give you the 
 s-oundest thrashing you ever had in your life." 
 
 At this juncture Joey returned and said that Mr. Brain 
 was coming along with a mattress in a spring cart. 
 
 " I'm sorry, Crichton," he exclaimed, " you lost the 
 end of the run. We killed our fox. Parkes has the 
 brush in his pocket." 
 
 This bit of news staggered Crichton. If Spinks had 
 seen the fox killed, he reflected, there must have been a 
 fox after all ; still, it might have been turned down before 
 the hounds at the finish or 
 
 " Let me have a look at it," he said to Parkes. 
 
 " Here, Spinks," said Parkes, quite quietly, " c-come 
 and take my place while 1 show Crichton what he is 
 evidently d-determined to see." 
 
 Parkes went straight up to Crichton, who was on 
 horseback, and, making a feint as if he were going to 
 strike him, put one hand under his foot and tipped him 
 out of the saddle. Things were looking ominous for the 
 latter, who was in no hurry to rise, seeming to think he 
 was safer lying down than on foot, when the arrival of 
 Mr. Brain put an end to the scene. 
 
 Without loss of time Peters was lifted into the cart and 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 20I 
 
 driven off, followed by Joey and Parkes, who, taking no 
 further notice of Crichton, left that gentleman to find his 
 way home by himself. 
 
 On reaching Mr. Brain's house, whither Mr. Brain 
 insisted on Peters being removed, they found the doctor 
 had already arrived, and that everything was prepared for 
 the reception of the invalid, who was carried straight 
 upstairs and put to bed. 
 
 It seemed an age to Joey, who had been turned out 
 of the room, before the doctor came down. Every few 
 minutes he crept up to listen anxiously at the door, and 
 time after time asked Mr. Brain if he thought Peters 
 would get over it. At last the doctor came. Peters, he 
 said, was perfectly conscious ; he was not hurt, there 
 were no bones broken, and there was no sign of his 
 having had a fall. He must have fainted after getting off 
 his horse. All he required was rest, and to be kept 
 perfectly quiet. He was overdone mentally and bodily, 
 and, having eaten hardly anything for some days past, had 
 fainted from sheer weakness. 
 
 ** I have something to say to him," said Joey ; " may I 
 go and see him ? " 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " Can I see him to-morrow ? " 
 
 "No." 
 
 '' The day after ? " 
 
 " Perhaps." 
 
 " Will you give him a message from me ? " 
 
 "Yes, if I think it advisable." 
 
 "Then will you tell him 1 want to know if he will 
 come back as huntsman as soon as he is well again ? " 
 
 The doctor promised to give the message the next 
 morning, on condition that Joey returned to Bosby 
 immediately and sent Mrs. Peters over to nurse her 
 husband. 
 
202 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 The miles flew past, and Joey chattered away as he 
 chattered on the road to Epsom in the spring. He 
 poured forth his heart to Parkes, and his confidence was 
 in safe keeping. 
 
 " Wonderful run ! wasn't it ? " he exclaimed, for the 
 fiftieth time. '' How did you know which way we were 
 gone ? " 
 
 " Well, you see, I kn-ew the run of the fox p-retty well." 
 " You don't mean to say you recognised the fox ! " 
 '' N-ot exactly ; althought 1 th-ought I recognised the 
 brush when I saw it lying b-by P-Peters' side. I'll t-tell 
 you what, I'll have the m-ask and the b-brush mounted 
 for you with a s-silver p-plate and the d-date on it, for as 
 long as you live you'll n-ever see a r-un like it." 
 
 " I believe you, my dear Parkes ; it is the luckiest day 
 of my life, for I have asked old Peters to come back, and 
 he's the best huntsman that ever was seen ! " 
 
20' 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 About ten o'clock the next morning the butler at Bosby 
 Hall went into Bullock's room. 
 
 "There's a jolly row going on in the study," he said. 
 '^ The Capting and the master are going at it like one 
 o'clock." 
 
 Bullock rose, put his hand into his breast pocket, and, 
 finding that what he wanted was all safe, nodded mys- 
 teriously to the butler, and went out. 
 
 The door of the study was shut, but the angry voices of 
 the two men quarrelling could be heard distinctly outside. 
 
 " Then all I can say is you're a fool." 
 
 " Fool or not, I have asked him to come back, and 1 
 shall stick to my word." 
 
 Bullock knocked, and entered the study. 
 
 "What do you want, Bullock?" said Joey; "I can't 
 speak to you just now." 
 
 "I beg your pardon, Mr. Joseph, but 1 have something 
 to say that won't keep." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " If you wait one minute, Mr. Joseph, you shall hear." 
 
 Impressed by the seriousness of Bullock's manner, and 
 recollecting his mysterious behaviour of late, Joey told 
 him to begin, and, seating himself, offered him a chair. 
 
 " I would rather stand, thank you, Mr. Joseph," he said, 
 and turning to Crichton went on : " May 1 be allowed. 
 Captain Crichton, to ask you a few questions ? " 
 
204 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Crichton by this time had recovered his usual com- 
 posure. Taking a newspaper h'om the table, and throw- 
 ing himself into an armchair, he said, languidly : " Really, 
 it is a matter of perfect indifference to me how many ques- 
 tions you ask, provided I am not expected to answer them." 
 " What is your name ?" Bullock began, with the air of a 
 Queen's Counsel rising to cross-examine an important 
 witness. 
 
 Crichton, taking no notice whatever of the question, bit 
 the end off one of Joey's best cigars, lit it, and turned his 
 attention to his newspaper. 
 
 As Bullock saw no answer was forthcoming to his first 
 question, he went on : 
 
 " What were your parents ? " 
 Crichton took no notice, and crossed his legs. 
 " Where were you born ? " 
 No answer. 
 
 " What school did you go to ? " 
 Crichton turned over the page. 
 " When did you enter the service ? " 
 As no answers were to be extracted, the questions 
 followed in quick succession. 
 
 " What regiment were you in ? Why did you leave it ? 
 What was your occupation from the time you left the 
 regiment until you met Mr. Spinks ? When did you first 
 make the acquaintance of Mr. Dawkins ? " 
 
 There was an evil look in Crichton's face as he put 
 down the paper and exclaimed : — 
 
 " By G — d, Spinks, if you don't kick him out of the 
 room, I shall." 
 
 "Wait a minute," said Joey, who, guessing that these 
 questions were not being fired off at random, felt no 
 inclination to stop Bullock ; " let us hear what he has to 
 say, and kick him out afterwards if necessary." 
 
 Bullock bowed solemnly to Joey, and taking a bundle 
 of papers from his breast pocket, began : 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 205 
 
 " You will excuse me, Captain Crichton, if I take this 
 opportunity of answering the accusation which you made 
 against me a few days ago. I did not lose my temper on 
 that occasion, and therefore, may expect you to listen to 
 me now without losing yours." 
 
 He then with the greatest gravity opened the first paper 
 of his bundle and began to read : 
 
 " James Snelling was born at Catsholme in the West 
 Riding of Yorkshire, March 19th, 1832." 
 
 He drew the next paper from his bundle, saying : — 
 
 "This is the certificate of his birth," and went on read- 
 ing — " His father was John Snelling, a dissenting minister, 
 and his mother, Jane Crichton, was the daughter of a 
 publican in the neighbourhood. They were married 
 September 30th, 1831." 
 
 He stopped reading, while he extracted another paper. 
 
 " This is the certificate of their marriage." 
 
 Here Joey interrupted : 
 
 " Bullock, I beg of you to be careful what you are 
 doing. What can this have to do with Captain Crichton ? " 
 
 Bullock bowed, as counsel would defer to the opinion 
 of the Lord Chief Justice, but went on : 
 
 " I am quite prepared to take the consequences. James 
 Snelling was sent to various local schools, and was 
 expelled from them all. At the age of sixteen he was 
 apprenticed to a surgeon in Leeds, and in his twentieth 
 year was appointed surgeon to the — th Hussars. He 
 served two years in England, and one year in Ireland, 
 after which he accompanied his regiment to India." 
 
 " I have," he said, opening another paper, " docu- 
 mentary evidence of all facts and dates, in case Captain 
 Crichton wishes to dispute anything I may say." 
 
 He paused and looked at Crichton, who had resumed 
 his attitude of unconcern, and remained silent. He then 
 went on with his narrative, somewhat to this effect : 
 
206 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 "After serving at various stations in India, he was sent 
 up with his regiment to take part in one of the border 
 wars on the north-west frontier. The entire force was 
 led into an ambuscade, and narrowly escaped being cut 
 to pieces. The loss of British and native troops was very 
 heavy, and those that escaped owed their lives chiefly to 
 the exertions of the gallant officer in command of the 
 cavalry, who covered their retreat with the loss of more 
 than half his men. 
 
 "At the opening of the engagement, James Snelling 
 absconded from the field, and, being summoned before a 
 court martial, after the disaster, he excused his cowardice 
 on the ground that he retired to the rear as soon as he 
 saw that he was the only doctor left alive, so as to be in 
 readiness to attend to the wounded when they were 
 brought in. Although this excuse, such as it was, was 
 accepted by the court, the indignation aroused, not only 
 in his regiment, but throughout the whole service, by his 
 dastardly conduct was such that he was forced to send in 
 his papers. 
 
 " James Snelling then returned to England, and, assum- 
 ing the name of Crichton and the title of Captain, set up 
 as a horse-dealer in Knightsbridge. Here he made the 
 acquaintance of Dawkins, and also of Lord Unwin. The 
 former was in the service of Lord Bulstrode, who, at that 
 time, had several horses in training. One of these was a 
 horse called ' Fly-catcher,' and it is notorious that this 
 horse was poisoned after he had been backed for a large 
 sum of money to win one of the big handicaps of the 
 year. It could be proved up to the hilt that Dawkins 
 shared the profits of this transaction with his two con- 
 federates — Lord Unwin and Captain Crichton. Dawkins 
 was dismissed on the spot, but the affair was hushed up 
 by Lord Bulstrode, because Lord Unwin was the son of 
 his sister." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 207 
 
 As Bullock paused for breath, Joey reminded him that 
 he was taking very extraordinary proceedings against a 
 gentleman in Captain Crichton's position, and warned 
 him of the responsibility he incurred if unable to prove 
 his accusations. Then, turning to Crichton, he said : 
 
 " Have you nothing to say to all this ? " 
 
 " Nothing," Crichton calmly replied, " except that if 
 you care to listen to such a pack of nonsensical lies you 
 are even a bigger fool than I thought you were. As for 
 Bullock, he bores me excessively. The only excuse I 
 can make for him is that he must be mad." 
 
 Bullock bowed again in acknowledgment of the com- 
 pliment, and folding the document he had been reading, 
 took the next from his bundle. 
 
 " It was shortly after this, IVIr. Joseph," he went on, 
 " that you met Captain Crichton out with the ' Queen's.' 
 You will remember all about that, so I need not go into 
 details. I will pass on to the time when he introduced 
 you to Lord Unwin, and you accepted the mastership of 
 these hounds. The interest that Captain Crichton took 
 at that time in your affairs, you will remember, was 
 surprising, and, to all outward appearances, most un- 
 selfish ; but I think you will see by the following items 
 that it was not so surprisingly unselfish after all. It was 
 Captain Crichton recommended every tradesman you 
 employed, and, I do not suppose you noticed it at the 
 time, Mr. Joseph, he never allowed you to employ one 
 that he had not recommended. I have here a list of a 
 number of articles showing the price you paid for them, 
 and the commission paid by the tradesman you bought 
 them of to Captain Crichton. First of all we will begin 
 with the dog-cart and cob Mrs. Spinks gave you on your 
 birthday. That was before you took the hounds, but I 
 will read out the items as I have them written down — and, 
 mind, I have only put down those commissions that I 
 
Article Purchasbd. 
 
 Price Paid. 
 
 Dog-cart ... • 
 
 £\20 
 
 Cob for ditto 
 
 84 
 
 Saddlery and harness... 
 
 214 
 
 Boot-maker... 
 
 30 
 
 Tailor 
 
 60 
 
 Twelve horses 
 
 1,876 
 
 P'urniture ... 
 
 353 
 
 Ironmonger 
 
 43 
 
 Carriage builder 
 
 413 
 
 208 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 can prove were offered and accepted, for it is by no 
 means an easy matter to find out these little trade secrets." 
 He then unfolded a paper and began to read slowly, 
 dwelling upon each item. The items were put down as 
 follows : — 
 
 Commission Rf.ceived. 
 /30 
 
 25 
 
 72 
 
 7 
 
 23 
 
 509 
 60 
 17 
 
 TOO 
 
 Painters and glaziers) 
 
 sent to Bosby ) ^' '" ^ 
 
 Picture frames ... 55 ... 20 
 
 " That's just a few of 'em as I can answer for being 
 correct, leaving out the shillings and pence. Now, what 
 has Captain Crichton got to say ? " 
 
 Bullock folded his papers, tied them up, and looked 
 steadily at his enemy. 
 
 "Now," he repeated, "what has Captain Crichton got 
 to say ? I denounce him as a coward, a blackleg, a 
 swindler, and a thief ! " 
 
 Crichton had become very pale, and it was with an 
 evident effort to maintain his composure that he replied : 
 
 " Merely that I intend to prosecute you for malicious 
 libel." 
 
 Joey, who had been listening in amazement to Bullock's 
 indictment, could contain himself no longer. Starting 
 from his chair, he cried : 
 
 " Talk of prosecuting afterwards, it you like, Crichton, 
 but swear to me first, on your honour as a gentleman, that 
 there is not a word of truth in all this." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 2O9 
 
 " On my honour as a gentleman," said Crichton, " I 
 swear it is the most damnable pack of lies ever invented." 
 
 Joey turned to Bullock : 
 
 " Now, Bullock, what are you going to do ? " 
 
 " Read you this letter, Mr. Joseph," he replied, taking a 
 letter that had not formed part of the bundle from his 
 pocket. 
 
 " Please do not be longer than you can help," said 
 Crichton, affecting to stifle a yawn ; " this newspaper is 
 far less dull than your prosing." 
 
 Bullock began to read — 
 
 " Laburnum House, 
 
 " St. John's Wood. 
 
 "Dear Sir, — When you sent me the cheque for 500 
 guineas on receiving the four landscapes which you 
 bought of me, I wrote thanking you for your generosity. 
 
 " I told Captain Crichton, when he first approached me 
 on the subject, that such was the price for the four pic- 
 tures ; but on his representing that the sum was quite 
 beyond your means, and altogether out of the question, I 
 agreed, being much in want of money at the time, to take 
 ;^30o. My surprise, therefore, was only exceeded by my 
 gratitude when I received your cheque for the sum I 
 originally asked. Imagine then my horror and disgust 
 when I received, a week later, a letter from your friend 
 and agent, peremptorily demanding £22^, which sum he 
 asserted was due to him as his commission on the trans- 
 action. My first impulse was to put his letter in the fire 
 and return you the balance of the money ; but on second 
 thoughts I sent Captain Crichton what he demanded 
 under protest, saying that I considered myself at liberty to 
 mention the matter to anyone if I thought fit. I was 
 sorely puzzled to know what further steps I was bound as 
 a gentleman to take in the matter. The commission busi- 
 ness is a widespread evil, and many seem unable to distin- 
 
 14 
 
2IO MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 guish between the legitimate charges of an authorised 
 agent and the bribe paid secretly to the agent of the other 
 contracting party. 
 
 " By a strange accident I came across your old servant, 
 George Bullock, and from him got to know certain things 
 which decided my course of action. 
 
 " I entrust this letter to him to show you whenever he 
 thinks best, and thus relieve my conscience of a burden 
 which has caused me much anxiety and sorrow. 
 
 " I remain, dear sir, yours truly, 
 
 " F. ROMNEY HUXSTABLE." 
 
 Bullock handed the letter to Joey. The envelope was 
 addressed "J. Spinks, Esq., care of Mr. George Bullock." 
 There could be no doubt it was genuine, the writing was 
 peculiar, and the signature unmistakable. Joey remem- 
 bered it well. A kind of nightmare came over him ; he 
 was like a man who, while exploring some secret subter- 
 raneous passage, hears the spring-door close behind him 
 with a snap. The draught has blown out his candle, and 
 he has no matches. In breathless horror, straining his eye- 
 balls to pierce the darkness, he runs his trembling fingers 
 over the cold walls. Is there no latch — no hope of 
 escape ? 
 
 " Crichton," he cried, " I implore you to speak ; you 
 must be able to give some explanation !" 
 
 A man who lives by his wits should be prepared for 
 any turn of fortune. Days of feasting are followed by 
 periods of starvation, and his principle is to accumulate 
 stores as rapidly as possible during the time of plenty, to 
 tide over the next term of privation. 
 
 Crichton congratulated himself on his success. The 
 inevitable had come to pass sooner than he had expected, 
 but it was pleasant to think he had made the most of his 
 time. It was to be regretted that the hunting had been 
 a failure. On that point, but on that point alone, he had 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 211 
 
 been outwitted. It was from a pecuniary point of view 
 that the whole affair was so thoroughly satisfactory. He 
 doubted if it were worth while to go on with the game, 
 for whether Bullock could prove anything or not, Joey's 
 suspicions were aroused, and there was nothing more to 
 be got out of him. If his bird had escaped, at any rate 
 he was w^ell plucked, and before long another of even 
 better plumage might be caught. Nevertheless, the game 
 was not lost before it was won. There were a good 
 many flaws in the indictment of which he could take 
 full advantage. As for a commission, it was the custom 
 of the trade, and all the tradesmen would swear black 
 and blue that they never gave any. It was fifty to one 
 against Bullock. Whatever happened he had Lord Win- 
 terfield pretty well under his thumb, and a lien on the 
 gilded balls of a coronet was worth something. 
 
 Thus Crichton rapidly reviewed his position. Shame 
 did not form part of his composition — any particle of that 
 commodity that he might have inherited from his grand- 
 parents had been long absorbed by the stronger com- 
 ponents of his system. 
 
 " Why, my dear Spinks," he said, in answer to Joey's 
 last appeal, " should I explain ? It is for Bullock to do 
 that. Do not pray throw yourself into such a violent 
 state of agitation. Look at me ! surely if anyone should 
 be agitated it is myself. I am as cool as a cucumber." 
 
 He certainly was, and his assurance shook the pyramid 
 of evidence that Bullock had piled up. 
 
 But Bullock had one more stone with which to bring 
 the pyramid to a point. He took out another letter — his 
 last — and handed it to Joey. It was Crichton's letter to 
 Mr. Huxstable. 
 
 " Crichton," said Joey, after he had scrutinised it from 
 end to end, " you cannot possibly deny that that is your 
 handwriting." 
 
212 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " I have no intention of denying it," Crichton coolly 
 replied. " I was a fool ever to have written it. Never, 
 my dear Spinks, write anything. But I am surprised at 
 you. Do you suppose I can live on nothing ? If I take 
 the trouble to buy pictures for you, someone must take 
 the trouble to make it worth my while. That's business^ 
 and if you weren't an ass you would have known it. 
 Your father must have been a better business man than 
 you are." 
 
 The colour went from Joey's face ; his muscles twitched 
 and grew rigid. It was with a great effort that he con- 
 trolled himself and said : 
 
 " Leave the room ! My carriage will take you to the 
 train to-day at any hour you like to order it." 
 
 Crichton laughed as he rose from his chair. 
 
 " Certainly, my dear fellow, I shall be happy to avail 
 myself of your kind offer. I will take another cigar, if 
 you don't mind, to smoke on the way." 
 
 He filled his case from Joey's cigar box, and strolled 
 across the room. As he went out of the] door he turned 
 round. 
 
 " Good-bye, Spinks ; many thanks for your hospitality. 
 I have enjoyed myself immensely. Say good-bye to your 
 mother for me." 
 
 Bullock wanted to follow him to see that " the Cap- 
 ting " didn't take the spoons. 
 
 " He is not such a fool as that," said Joey, as he rang 
 the bell. 
 
 " Send Dawkins here," he said to the footman who 
 answered the bell, andi ihen sat down at his writing-table 
 and took out his cheque-book. 
 
 Dawkins presently appeared, and smilingly awaited his 
 orders for the day. 
 
 " You will go with^^Captain Crichton to the station this 
 afternoon." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 213 
 
 
 '' Yes, sir." 
 
 " He will let you know what hour." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " The one-horse brougham with the basket on the top." 
 
 '' Yes, sir ; what horse shall I take, sir ? " 
 
214 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 "The big brown horse will take you." 
 
 " Yes, sir." 
 
 " One of the grooms will drive you." 
 
 " I beg your pardon, sir ? " 
 
 " If you have anything you cannot take with you, it 
 can be sent after you." 
 
 Dawkins ceased smiling. There was a moment of 
 intense silence, broken by the sound of a cheque parting 
 from its counterfoil. 
 
 " Here is what I owe you, and a month's wages," said 
 Joey, holding the cheque towards Dawkins. 
 
 '' What does this mean ? " exclaimed the latter, taking 
 the cheque. 
 
 " It means that you are no longer my servant." 
 
 " 1 won't take it ! " 
 
 " Then leave it," and Joey pointed to the door. 
 
 " What have I done to be treated like this ? " Dawkins 
 exclaimed, with a very common-place attempt at affecting 
 injured innocence. He was a poor actor compared with 
 Crichton. " Bullock, you know what this means 1 " 
 
 " It means ' Fly-catcher ' Mr. Dawkins, and nothing 
 else. I don't want you to think that the wrong you did 
 me years ago — and it was as cruel a wrong as one man 
 can do another — has had anything to do with your losing 
 your place. I have never said one word about that to 
 a living soul. If I had known about the Fly-catcher 
 business when you first came here, all this would never 
 have happened. Now, go ! and never let me see your 
 face again." 
 
 Dawkins retreated, shoving the cheque into his breeches 
 pocket, as Bullock followed him towards the door. His 
 heels tripped over the mat, and he staggered backwards 
 through the doorway. 
 
 " Now, Bullock," said Joey, " you can look lafter the 
 spoons ! " 
 
215 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 As soon as Mary Brain heard that Peters was ill at her 
 father's house, she decided to leave Spetchley ; for her 
 father, who had never had a day's illness in his life, she 
 insisted, knew nothing of the requirements of an invalid ; 
 there were a hundred and one little things he would 
 never think of, and that Mrs. Peters, if she thought of 
 them, would not like to ask for. So she returned home 
 accompanied by Jessie Bond, who was easily persuaded 
 by her friend to pay her a return visit. 
 
 This move on Miss Bond's part upset the calculations 
 of Lord Winterfield, who had made up his mind to 
 prosecute his suit with renewed vigour. He rode over 
 two days in succession on the pretence of enquiring 
 after Peters' health, but, failing on each occasion to gain 
 admittance to the house, or even to set eyes on the real 
 object of his visit, he came to the conclusion he could 
 spend his time more profitably in other pursuits, and so 
 betook himself to the metropolis. 
 
 It was the third day from that on which Peters had 
 been carried into Mr. Brain's house, and the doctor had 
 promised Joey that he should see the invalid. The sun 
 shone cheerfully through the open window of the sick- 
 room, and the air was fragrant with flowers from Bosby 
 Hall. Mrs. Peters sat beside the bed with her needle- 
 work, wishing that Miss Brain — who was the only other 
 person allowed to enter the room — would not walk about. 
 Why was she constantly looking out of the window ? 
 
2l6 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Presently a light came into the girl's blue eyes ; she 
 turned from the window and sat down. A minute later 
 the sound of horse's hoofs was heard outside on the 
 gravel. 
 
 ''That'll be Mr. Spinks," said Peters, and his wife 
 looked across the bed at Mary Brain, and, although 
 the girl sat with her back to the window, detected the 
 blush upon her cheek. Mrs. Peters' feelings towards 
 Joey had undergone an entire change during the past 
 two days, and now the matchmaking instincts of her sex 
 were gratified by an important discovery. 
 
 The meeting of Joey and Peters was none the less 
 affecting because it was silent. Mrs. Peters, carefully 
 dusting the chair on which she had been sitting, offered 
 it to " the master," as she now called him for the first 
 time. Peters smiled on Joey, he smiled on Mary Brain, 
 she blushed and smiled on Mrs. Peters, who stood smiling 
 on them all. 
 
 Joey was the first to break the silence. 
 
 " I'm sorry to hear, Peters, that you were rambling in 
 the night." 
 
 " Which night ? " Peters asked, with a suspicion of 
 mistrust in his voice. 
 
 " Last night." 
 
 " Oh ! was I ? " said Peters, " well, it wasn't intentional, 
 Mr. Spinks ; " and they all laughed. 
 
 Then Joey related the story of Bullock and Crichton, 
 which was listened to with breathless interest. 
 
 " I always thought him an odious man," exclaimed Miss 
 Brain, when the story came to an end, " and have often 
 wondered what you could see in him." 
 
 Peters said nothing, but it was not difficult to see he 
 was well pleased with the course of events ; while his 
 better half looked as if she would gladly have taken an 
 active part in the scene she had heard described. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 217 
 
 Joey rattled on about his hounds and the wonderful 
 run, which he declared was nothing to what he expected 
 to see as soon as Peters was well enough to hunt the 
 hounds. " For you will come back again," he asked, with 
 some anxiety, ** won't you, Peters ? " 
 
 " If you think I can do it as well as 'the Capting,' " said 
 Peters, " I don't mind trying ; though the doctor says as 
 1 shan't be fit to ride much before the ist. But look 
 here, Mr. Spinks, why don't you take them out yourself ? 
 You can do it easy enough. The hounds have too much 
 sense to leave you after that last run, and they won't be so 
 difficult to manage now the Capting's gone. You take 
 my word for it, Mr. Spinks, it was all his fault." 
 
 Hunt the hounds himself ! The suggestion was capti- 
 vating, intoxicating. He would try ; he would go out 
 alone with the whips, and no one need know of his short- 
 comings if he failed. 
 
 He wished Peters goodbye, for he had suddenly become 
 anxious that the invalid should not over-exert himself 
 by too much talking, and hurried away as if he was going 
 to take the hounds out there and then. But Miss Brain 
 went with him to the front door, and somehow he forgot 
 about the hounds. Had he seen the fox that the keeper 
 found ? It was down by the garden. The poor thing 
 had been trapped ! It was the prettiest fox she had ever 
 seen. Joey said he would like to see it ; so they went 
 together down the garden. There was a great deal to be 
 seen besides the fox, although at that time of year the 
 garden, of course, was not looking its best. There was 
 her own garden that she cultivated when quite a little girl ; 
 some of the cockle-shells were still to be seen. The whole 
 garden now was entirely in her charge. There were the 
 violet beds ; she was glad Joey was fond of violets ; they 
 were her favourite flowers — and she pulled a nosegay and 
 put it in his button-hole. There was a deodara, planted 
 
2l8 
 
 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 the day she was born. Joey looked at the tree and then 
 at her and declared it was almost incredible. The time 
 slipped by, and they were surprised to hear the luncheon 
 bell ; her mother would never forgive him if he didn't 
 stay to lunch, so he could not refuse to stay. 
 
 Jessie Bond wanted to know where they had been all 
 the morning. Looking at the fox — for two hours ! 
 
 Mr. Brain came in in the middle of lunch, and said they 
 were felling a big tree close by. It was a sight worth 
 seeing. So they hurried off to see the grand crash. 
 From there they went to see the live stock, and the 
 hackney that had just taken another first prize ; thence 
 through the stables and back home to tea. 
 
 
 O 
 
 
 
 The next day Joey came over again to see Peters, and 
 asked after the poor fox's foot. He and Mary Brain 
 went down the garden to assure themselves that it jwas 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 219 
 
 really better ; and so on day after day till the poor foot 
 got quite well, and still they went to see the fox. 
 
 One morning Joey arrived late. Mrs. Peters knew why 
 Miss Brain was so anxious to arrange the window-blind 
 to keep the sun olif Peters' face. He came in triumphant ; 
 he had killed his first fox, and brought more flowers and 
 grapes for Peters. Mary Brain said it was so kind of 
 him, and everyone agreed with her. At last the day 
 came when the doctor pronounced his patient convales- 
 cent and fit to return to Bosby. 
 
 " I am afraid," said Joey, who was present when the 
 announcement was made, " that his house is not ready 
 for him yet. He can come to ' the Hall ' of course, but 
 I can't allow him to go back to his cottage." 
 
 " That would never do," said Miss Bond. So it was 
 arranged that Peters should stay where he was till his 
 house at the kennels was finished. 
 
 These were happy days for Joey, cub-hunting in the 
 morning, love-making in the afternoon. The hounds 
 were getting to know him, so were the foxes, and he was 
 beginning to blow his horn like a professional. Every 
 now and then, if he lost sight of his hounds, his past 
 misfortunes rushed upon him like a nightmare, and he 
 became almost demented till he saw them again. His 
 thoughts, too, sometimes wandered, in spite of the excite- 
 ment of the chase, and he found himself casting his 
 hounds back towards Mary Brain. The whips agreed 
 he would never make a huntsman. He hadn't the 
 patience for it, and was always too anxious to get home. 
 
 One afternoon, early in the last week of October, Joey 
 ran a fox to ground not far from Mr. Brain's, and, leaving 
 the whips to take the hounds back to the kennels, went 
 off to tell Peters that his house was finished and ready 
 for him to go into. 
 
 It was a lovely day, and he found Peters seated in a 
 
220 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 wicker chair under the cedar on the lawn, with Mrs. 
 Brain and the two girls. Mrs. Peters, who was watching 
 them from the house, declared they would spoil him. 
 
 Mary Brain was reading " Handley Cross " aloud, but 
 ceased reading and looked up as Joey advanced towards 
 them. 
 
 " I have some news for you, Peters," he said, after he 
 had greeted them all round ; " your house is ready, and 
 Mr. Johnson is coming to stay at ' the Hall ' for the 
 beginning of the hunting season. He arrives to-morrow 
 afternoon, and I want you to be back in your old place 
 to receive him when he comes." 
 
 Mary Brain could understand Peters being pleased, 
 but was disappointed — though she would not confess it, 
 even to herself — that Mr. Spinks seemed so delighted to 
 get him away from them. 
 
 " But I beg your pardon for interrupting," Joey went 
 on. " Please Miss Brain go on reading. Where have you 
 got to ? Oh ! * the pig and mustard-pot day ' — that's 
 splendid ! " 
 
 But she insisted that Joey should read. So, taking the 
 book, he went on with the inimitable tale, that he — like 
 many another sportsman — knew almost by heart. Now 
 and again he stopped, after some favourite passage, to 
 see its effect upon his audience. Jessie Bond was in fits 
 of laughter, Mary Brain thought it never sounded so well 
 as when read aloud, while Peters put in explanatory notes 
 drawn from his own experience. 
 
 "Why don't you laugh, Peters ?" said Joey, in one of 
 his pauses ; " don't you think it's splendid ? " 
 
 " Well, it's only a take-off, Mr. Spinks ; it never really 
 happened." 
 
 " It never actually happened, and perhaps it couldn't 
 happen ; but didn't old Jorrocks understand about 
 hunting ? " 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 221 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 " He knew about hunting, certainly," replied the old 
 huntsman, as if that were a matter of course, and hardly 
 worth mentioning ; " but he didn't know a bit more^than 
 you will know in a very short time." 
 
 " But think, Peters, how difficult it must be to write 
 about hunting so that you can't find fault with it." 
 
222 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 The literary point was lost on Peters, and he made no 
 answer. 
 
 " What strikes me," said Jessie Bond, wiping the tears 
 from her eyes, " is that all the characters are either 
 scoundrels or idiots — or both ; there's not a decent 
 person among the lot." 
 
 -,/'They are all like that," said Mary Brain, "in 'Soapy 
 Sponge,' and the rest of his books. Surtees does not seem 
 to have cared to describe respectable humdrum people." 
 
 " But respectable people need not be humdrum," Jessie 
 Bond objected. 
 
 "And old Jorrocks isn't a scoundrel," pleaded Joey; 
 ** and he is far from being an idiot. I am very fond of 
 him." 
 
 " At any rate, Mr. Spinks, he is not very distingue ; " 
 said Jessie Bond, and appealed to Mrs. Brain for her 
 opinion. 
 
 " I expect," said that lady, " that Peters is about right. 
 The whole thing is a * take-off,' and meant to be humorous. 
 There is more humour to be got out of people of that sort, 
 because they make themselves ridiculous, in our eyes at 
 any rate. How could you make fun of Mr. Marshall, for 
 instance ? You might laugh at what he said, but you 
 could not laugh at him. And he would be quite out of 
 his element in society at Handley Cross." 
 
 " I should like to see him there," said Joey. " I'll be 
 bound old Jorrocks would treat him like a gentleman 1" 
 
 " It seems to me," said Mary Brain, " that Mr. Spinks 
 believes old Jorrocks is alive and hunting his hounds, and 
 perhaps trying to pull Artaxerxes over a fence at this very 
 moment." 
 
 " Of course he is," said Joey ; " he's immortal." 
 
 " But I say, Peters," he went on, turning to the old 
 huntsman, " why don't you write the history of your life 
 and adventures in the hunting-field ? " 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 -O 
 
 " No, Mr. Spinks, I ain't scholard enough for that ; and 
 as for my adventures, they are varied in one way, for every 
 fox, every hound and every horse is various, and there is 
 always something new to say about him ; and every run is 
 various, but it don't sound so when you come to write it 
 down. It's hke this : ' Left this covert on the right, that 
 on the left ; ^turned right-handed by so-and-so, and then 
 left-handed after we passed t'other place ; or may be went 
 straight on till we came somewhere else, and there he was 
 headed in a ploughed field or chased by a shepherd's dog ; 
 but hitting it off again we ran through here, there, and 
 everywhere, when he got to ground in a rabbit-hole, and 
 we had him out ; or in a drain, and we bolted him ; or in 
 the main earth, and we guv' it up.' It's all very well talk- 
 ing about a run, no matter how long ago it was, to some 
 one who was there — that is very interesting ; but I don't 
 know nothing stupider than reading or hearing a long 
 account of a run you wasn't in, through a country you 
 knows nothing about, and at the end of it the gentleman 
 what tells the story slaps his leg and says : * Believe me, it 
 was eighteen miles from point to point, and two hours 
 and ten minutes without a check.' And who is there can 
 contradict him when he says there was no one in it but 
 him ? No — 1 have kep' a diary ever since 1 hunted these 
 hounds, but that's for my own efferdication ; and as I 
 don't want to read other people's fox-hunting diarees, I 
 don't expect no one to read mine." 
 
 These sentiments — however they may be regarded by 
 our reader — were strongly combated by Joey and his 
 fellow listeners, who declared themselves devoured by 
 curiosity to peruse the manuscript. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Peters, look at me," said Miss Bond (those 
 eyes would have subjugated a more stubborn heart than 
 the old huntsman's ;) " I want you to do me a favour. I 
 want you to describe, from start to finish, just as if I had 
 
224 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 been there, and you were only reminding me exactly of 
 what happened, the best run you ever saw in your Hfe." 
 
 Who could have refused ? 
 
 The sun, however, was getting low, and it grew chilly. 
 A general move was made for the house, and there, while 
 the others seated themselves once more round Peters, in 
 anticipation of his tale, Mary Brain slipped away to order 
 tea for the company, and two poached eggs for Mr. 
 Spinks. 
 
225 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The morning that followed Peters' description of the 
 best run he had ever seen in his life (we shall always 
 regret we were not there to hear it) saw him back at the 
 kennels. 
 
 His house had been papered and whitewashed from 
 top to bottom ; the cat was in his old place on the 
 window-sill ; the canary sang as if the spring had come 
 again, and Galloper II. was in danger of going off his 
 head from excess of joy. And yet there was something 
 wrong. 
 
 As the days went past Peters found he couldn't bear 
 himself, so it is no wonder all about him found him 
 unbearable. The whips had heard a good deal of his 
 temper, but this surpassed all previous experiences of 
 huntsmen's tempers. His wife could do nothing to please 
 him ; even Sam was in perpetual hot water. 
 
 It was very strange, pondered the latter, how some folks 
 never could be happy. They worried themselves to death 
 to get something, and when they got it they worried them- 
 selves and everybody else worse than if they had never 
 got it. 
 
 Matters were not mended by daily visits from Mr. 
 Johnson, and continued discussions on the subject of 
 " the mystery." For the first time in his life Peters found 
 he could not look Mr. Johnson in the face, and the ques- 
 tion, "Who can have done it, Peters?" — implying that 
 
 15 
 
2 26 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 Peters himself was above suspicion — became more pain- 
 ful each time it was repeated. 
 
 Peters had been congratulating himself that he had 
 gone through the whole business without telling a single 
 direct falsehood. His truthfulness, thus qualified, was 
 immaculate. Even as regards Simpson and his sheep- 
 skins had he been careful not to assert that any hounds 
 had been lost, but only to say that it was not unlikely 
 that some hounds might come that way. This record 
 was not easy to maintain against such direct questions as 
 *' Who do you think did it, Peters ? " He could not say 
 he did not know, and had no one to suggest except Sam. 
 
 As the question became more and more difficult to 
 parry, Peters became more and more ashamed of him- 
 self ; and the more his shame increased the worse his 
 temper grew. 
 
 His discontent with himself and everything connected 
 with the Hunt, reached a climax on the morning of 
 November 4th, when he arrayed himself for ''the opening 
 meet " in the new coat, new breeches, and new boots — 
 all paid for by Mr. Spinks. He would have given any- 
 thing to have been allowed to put on his old clothes. 
 
 He went into the kennel yard and called one of the 
 whips. " Saddle the old brown mare ! " 
 
 " The chestnut mare and the bay horse is got ready 
 for you," said Sam, who was within hearing. 
 
 " Do what I tell you, and look sharp about it." 
 
 So saying, Peters went towards the kennels. Sam 
 followed and found him in an attitude of dejection in 
 the boiling-house. He was inhaling the beloved atmos- 
 phere for the last time. 
 
 " You ain't going to ride that old mare, Peters, at the 
 opening meet ? " 
 
 " Yes, I am ; for I shan't ride her at another." 
 
 " But why ride her at all ? " 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 227 
 
 ^ jr 
 
 
 :3i 
 
 X 
 
 I < • 
 
 1- ^trti 
 
 ^, 
 
 .J' 
 
 C^v 
 
 J 
 
 "^ 
 
 " Why ? 'cos I promised her a day's hunting before 
 she knocked under, and this is going to be her only 
 chance." 
 
 " You're not going to put her in the boiler ? " 
 
 " Sam," said Peters looking mournfully at his old friend, 
 " I'm going to resign." 
 
 For the first time in his life Sam's eyes came into focus, 
 and he stared at Peters, wondering if he had gone mad, 
 while the latter went on : " No, Sam, I can't stand it any 
 longer ; these new boots and breeches has finished it. 
 They will be the death of me. Even the bread I eat 
 chokes me. I mean to make a clean breast of it." 
 
 "What ! " exclaimed Sam, "tell Mr. Spinks ?" 
 
 Peters nodded assent. 
 
 " But you can't be such a fool as that ! Do you mean 
 
228 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 to say as you are going to give it up after all you have 
 been through to get it ? Then all I can say is, you are 
 a stark staring lunatic, as ought to be put in a straight 
 waistcoat ! " 
 
 No argument, no abuse or expostulation produced the 
 slightest effect. 
 
 " And where am I to go to," asked Sam at last, when 
 all his other arguments had failed ; " where am I to go 
 to after I gets the sack ? " 
 
 The certainty of Sam's dismissal following immediately 
 upon his intended confession, had not occurred to Peters. 
 Here was a puzzle. He had no right, whatever he did, 
 to make Sam suffer as well as himself. 
 
 The old mare was ready for him, but he still debated 
 in his own mind what he ought to do. 
 
 " Let out the hounds, Sam," he said at length, " I 
 won't tell Mr. Spinks nothing. 1 shall resign my place, 
 and refuse to give any reason for doing so." 
 
 " Don't, Peters, don't do that ! Where will you get 
 another place ? What can you turn a hand to at your 
 time of life ? " 
 
 " I've thought out all that, Sam. I shall go to London 
 and drive a cab." 
 
 Peters left the boiling-house, and went towards the old 
 mare, who hinnied as he approached. He patted her 
 neck, and looked her over before he mounted. 
 
 Sam went to the kennel gate where the hounds were 
 whining and leaping in expectation of their release. 
 "And if he drives a cab in London," he muttered to 
 himself, "he'll want some one to wash it for him;" and 
 the hounds rushed tumultuously forth. 
 
229 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 There was a goodly crowd assembled at the Hall. The 
 guests were passing in and out of the house. Their host 
 was here, there, and everywhere, pressing the shy and 
 hungry to the feast. Coats of every colour, red, green, 
 and black, the brown velveteen and the white smock 
 were bidden and made welcome. The drive was thronged 
 with carriages overflowing with beauty, and beyond the 
 stables the feasters' horses were being led to and fro. 
 
 The hounds took up their station on the lawn ; and 
 Joey, w4th his own hand, filled Peters' glass and drank a 
 bumper to his health. 
 
 " Good morning. Colonel ! " said Joey, as the dapper 
 little Colonel Rideabout joined them; "you are very 
 smart this morning ! " 
 
 " Smart ? my dear Spinks, my old coat looks very 
 dowdy by the side of yours. By Jove ! turn round, let 
 us have a look at you — who made it ? Egad ! you're as 
 well turned out as ever I saw anyone. Ah ! when I was 
 your age I had some use for a new coat ; I could ride a 
 bit then. You know how shortsighted I have always 
 been ? I could never see what I was riding at, and as 
 sure as ever I went into the micss after a day's hunting, 
 one of our fellows would say to me, ' Aly dear Rideabout, 
 what were you thinking of, going over that place to-day?' 
 when, I assure you, 1 wasn't aware I had been over any 
 place worth mentioning ! " 
 
 " Y-ou are q-uite right," said Parkes, who had just 
 
230 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 come out from breakfast, slapping the Colonel on the 
 back, "to b-be more careful, now that you're a f-amily 
 man ! What have you d-done with the old m-mare that 
 used to c-carry you so well ? " 
 
 " My old brown mare ? She wasn't safe to ride over 
 timber — gone in the fore-legs— I had to send her to the 
 kennels." 
 
 Peters smiled, and, leaning forward, patted the old 
 mare's neck, wondering if the Colonel would know his 
 own mother if he came across her unexpectedly. 
 
 " Good scenting day ! " said the Colonel with an air 
 of authority, as if challenging contradiction. " Don't 
 you say so, Peters ? " 
 
 " I'll tell you, Colonel, about that, after we have found 
 our first fox." 
 
 "By the bye," exclaimed Joey, turning to Parkes, "I 
 mustn't forget to thank you for the mask and brush. 
 They came this morning. I can't understand how they 
 got them done so quickly." 
 
 " I suspect s-ome foxes are easier to stuff than others," 
 said Parkes, winking at Peters, who tried to look as if he 
 hadn't heard what they were saying. 
 
 "But, I say, Parkes," Joey continued, "you shouldn't 
 have had 'killed by J. Spinks' put on the plate, because 
 Peters really killed him." 
 
 " P-perhaps he did, s-trictly speaking ; but you were 
 the only one who was with hounds all through the run." 
 
 It was time to throw off, but Joey still lingered among 
 his hounds, casting frequent glances across the park, and 
 consulting his watch from time to time, as one who 
 impatiently awaits the arrival of some large subscriber 
 to the Hunt. At length his face brightened, and telling 
 Peters to jog on with the hounds without waiting for 
 him, he hastened to join Mrs. Spinks, who was standing 
 on the steps in front of the house. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 23 1 
 
 "And there was mounting in hot haste : the steed, 
 The mustering squadron, and the clattering car. 
 Went pouring forward with impetuous speed," 
 
 on their way to covert. 
 
 " Isn't she lovely ? " Joey whispered to his mother, as 
 Miss Brain and her father threaded their way towards 
 them through the moving crowd. 
 
 " You don't mean to say you have waited for us," ex- 
 claimed Miss Brain ; "how kind of you ! I am dreadfully 
 sorry we are so late. Just as we were starting a man 
 called to see father about some timber — I thought we 
 should never get rid of him I " 
 
 Joey was soon mounted and in pursuit of the hounds, 
 assuring his fair companion by the way that the pleasure 
 of his opening-day would have been spoiled if she had 
 not come. In a few minutes, they overtook Lord Winter- 
 field riding with Miss Bond in the rear of the cavalcade, 
 and, leaving his companions, Joey pushed on to join 
 Peters in the van. 
 
 There was no difficulty about "finding." In the first 
 ten minutes there were four or five foxes on foot, and 
 as many throats holloaing themselves hoarse in every 
 direction. Some of the young hounds, and every one of 
 Crichton's draft, paying no attention to Peters' horn, were 
 running various lines all over the covert. Peters got 
 away with about half the pack, but only for a short 
 distance, as his fox, headed on all sides, was soon back 
 again in the wood where he was found. Four couple of 
 hounds went away with another fox, without anyone 
 attempting to stop them. The cracking of thongs, the 
 noise made by the whips rating the hounds, the constant 
 holloaing, and the galloping up and down of horsemen 
 increased the confusion. Peters, finding it impossible to 
 steady his hounds, or to bring their noses to the ground, 
 swore at the whips, abused " the field," and, in short, lost 
 
232 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 his temper completely. If the hounds hunted for fifty 
 yards, as sure as ever they came to a ride in the covert 
 there were a dozen horses standing on the line. 
 
 This state of things had lasted for half an hour or more, 
 when there was a roar from the carriages on the high- 
 road. " Tally-ho — over — over — over." Anxious to get 
 away from the woods and to escape the crowd, Peters 
 galloped to the holloa ! There sat Bullock in a field 
 beyond the road, waving his hat. " Tally-ho, for'ard," 
 he cried, as the hounds streamed over the road. The 
 carriage-horses snorted and pranced, the occupants of 
 the carriages clapped their fair hands, delighted to see 
 so much of the sport, and thrilled with excitement as the 
 horsemen came pouring out of the wood on to the road. 
 Then came a scramble for the gaps. Some jumped too 
 big, some jumped short and fell, some backed among 
 the carriages ; but those who didn't jump were as well 
 off as those who did, for the fox, after leading the hounds 
 best pace across half-a-dozen fields, took refuge in a drain, 
 whence all efforts to dislodge him failed. 
 
 After a consultation, Peters went off after the four 
 couple of hounds that were still missing, and another 
 half-hour was wasted before he met them coming back, 
 having lost their fox, to rejoin their companions. 
 
 In order to get rid of the crowd on foot and on wheels, 
 Joey now decided to trot straight away to Whiston Wood. 
 Here they found again at once, but the day was destined 
 to be uneventful as far as sport was concerned, for though 
 holloas were less frequent, and the bulk of the hounds 
 hunted steadily enough, there was hardly any scent, and 
 they could not force the fox, press him as they would, 
 to break covert. 
 
 For two hours he dodged about, sometimes almost 
 amongst the hounds, laughing in his vulpine sleeve at his 
 pursuers, and at length stole away unseen, and soon ran 
 them out of scent. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 233 
 
 The only chance now was to leave the woods, so Joey 
 trotted off still further from home into a more open 
 country. Here Crichton's draft, which had been running 
 riot all day, whenever there was an opportunity, had to 
 be whipped oif a hare, and eventually, when a fox was 
 found, the scent proved worse, if possible, than it was 
 before, and ufter dragging on for an hour or so they 
 gave it up. 
 
 " You must get rid of them hounds," said Peters to 
 Joey, as they rode home together. "They'll never do 
 any good now — it's too late to teach 'em. Hounds pro- 
 perly bred, properly broken and entered at the proper 
 time in the proper way will never look at anything but a 
 fox. The young hounds haven't had a chance, how^ could 
 they ? We are only just beginning cub-hunting. By 
 this time we ought by rights to have killed eight or nine 
 brace, and we have only killed one fox." 
 
 ** Two," said Joey ; '' 1 killed one." 
 
 "Yes, you killed one; and that's the one I'm counting." 
 
 " But you killed another — the day you were taken ill— 
 the one Parkes had mounted for me." 
 
 "That fox," said Peters, looking solemnly in front of 
 him, " was five years old, Mr. Spinks ! " 
 
 " Is that a great age for a fox," asked Joey, after reflect- 
 ing for some time how the age of a fox could possibly 
 affect the fact of his being killed. 
 
 " I mean, Mr. Spinks, that that 'ere fox had been dead 
 five years — that was the second time I killed him." 
 
 He paused, and as Joey was too bewildered to speak, 
 went on : 
 
 " I am very sorry to put you to any inconvenience, Mr. 
 Spinks, but I must give up. I'm too old, my health is 
 not what it was, and my spirits is all gone. I ain't fit for 
 the place, and you must get a younger man than me, and 
 a better one." 
 
234 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " Nonsense," replied Joey, partly recovered from his 
 surprise. "You have a fit of the bhies because we have 
 had a bad day's sport. What does it matter ? You 
 can't help there being a bad scent ; you haven't yet 
 recovered your strength, and I daresay a long day in the 
 saddle has been too much for you." 
 
 " No, sir ; you are very kind to make excuses for me, 
 but all that has nothing to do with it, I must give up." 
 
 "There is some joke, Peters, that I don't understand." 
 
 " Some people might think it a joke, but it's a very 
 poor one for me." 
 
 " Come, Peters, tell me what it's all about. What has 
 put you out ? " 
 
 " Nothing." 
 
 " Has anyone offended you ? Have you quarrelled 
 with the whips ? 
 
 " No, nobody has offended me, and the whips is like 
 the rest of them — they are very nice young men, but 
 they've got to learn their business." 
 
 " Are you in want of money ? " asked Joey, as it 
 occurred to him that Peters had been out of place some 
 time and might have run into debt ; " if so, I shall be only 
 too glad to give you as much as you want." 
 
 "Thank you all the same, Mr. Spinks, but I have had 
 too much of your money already. I have said all I've 
 got to say, and that is I must give up." 
 
 " Come,- Peters, this is hardly fair ; you must give me 
 some reason." 
 
 " Can't give no reasons." 
 
 "Why not ?" 
 
 " Because if I ' gives my reasons someone else will lose 
 his place." 
 
 " Do you mean Bullock ? " 
 
 Peters shook his head. 
 
 " Sam ? " 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 235 
 
 Peters nodded. 
 
 " Nonsense, Peters ; turn away dear old Sam ! I would 
 almost as soon think of turning you away." 
 
 " And so you would, sir, me and Sam too, if I gave my 
 reasons. So, you will excuse me, it makes no difference 
 to you if I don't tell them." 
 
 " I never heard such rot in my life. Look here ! If I 
 give you my word of honour that your reasons shall not 
 make the slightest difference to Sam, will you tell me 
 what they are ? " 
 
 " No, Mr. Spinks." 
 
 "Confound it!" exclaimed Joey, losing patience with 
 the old man's obstinacy. " Why not ? " 
 
 " Because it ain't in human nature but what you 
 couldn't forgive him." 
 
 " Forgive him what ? " 
 
 " That is just what 1 don't intend to say." 
 
 " Do you mean that you do not trust my promise ? " 
 
 "Of course I trust your promise, but you don't know 
 what it is you are promising." 
 
 " Very well, Peters, I will take your word for it. Sam 
 has done something that obliges me to part with him ; 
 and I will give him notice to-morrow morning. He will 
 have to look to you for an explanation." 
 
 " Now, Mr. Spinks," cried Peters, distracted by the un- 
 expected turn matters had taken, " don't do that ! 1 will 
 stop with you if you will promise me you won't do that." 
 
 " That's a bargain," exclaimed Joey, delighted at the 
 success of his diplomacy. 
 
 " But 1 cannot possibly stay on without telling you, 
 Mr. Spinks, and, as I said before, if I tell you I can't 
 stop." 
 
 " Come, Peters, let's have it ? " 
 
 The struggle was nearly over. The shame of confes- 
 sion, and the anxiety for Sam's welfare, were rapidly 
 giving way to the desire of clearing his conscience. 
 
236 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " You will remember your promise about Sam ? " 
 " If I don't, I swear never to get outside a horse again." 
 " Then listen, Mr. Spinks, and don't interrupt me till 
 I'm done. 
 
 " To begin with, I want you to believe that it was all for 
 the good of the hounds ; whatever my feelings had to do 
 with it, I don't believe I should ever have done what I 
 did if it hadn't been for those blessed dogs. When I was 
 down in the village yonder, every time I heard them bay- 
 ing, I used to think they was a-calling me to their deliver- 
 ance and when I once got that idea into my head it 
 seemed to stick there, and, do what I could, it began to 
 cfrow ; and I had nothing to think about but them, and 
 the more I listened to them the worse it got, till I thought 
 I should go out of my mind. And Sam used to come 
 down and tell me about the Capting, and while he was 
 talking I used to think I could tell old Galloper's voice 
 above the rest ; and then he told me about this old mare 
 
 and that's the only part of the whole business I ain't 
 
 ashamed of, for I believe she has a sort of notion what 
 she was sent to the kennels for. Haven't you ever seen a 
 bullock running away from the butcher when he comes 
 to look at him in the field ? It's the smell of the blood, 
 that's what that is, Mr. Spinks. And when Sam went away 
 I used to whistle to try and keep the thoughts out of my 
 head, and prevent 'em growing bigger, but the whistling 
 made no difference, and my missus used to ask me what I 
 was always whistling about, and why I couldn't stop that 
 stupid noise — meaning the whistling, not the hounds. 
 Then Mr. Marshall would come and see me, and I felt 
 better for a day or two ; but it didn't last, and when Sam 
 told me how the hounds was going to Whiston Wood the 
 next morning I told him to bring down the old mare — 
 mind, I don't say he knew what I wanted her for. But 
 what's the use of me saying any more ? You can guess 
 what happened." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 237 
 
 " Indeed, I cannot," Joey said, as Peters seemed disin- 
 clined to resume his narrative. " You have only told me 
 enough to make me heartily ashamed of myself, to think 
 that I could have treated you with such thoughtless 
 cruelty. Get on with your story ; I want to hear what 
 happened." 
 
 Peters began again : 
 
 "Well, I got on the old mare, and went off to see 
 Simpson. He had had a quarrel with me, you know, 
 because he didn't get the prize for the pup he walked last 
 year ; but that weren't my fault — the pup Miss Brain had 
 was better than his, and so the gentleman what Mr. 
 Johnson got down to judge the pups, gave her the 
 prize '■ 
 
 "Does Miss Brain take puppies to walk?" said Joey, 
 forgetting his promise not to interrupt. 
 
 " Walk pups ! I believe she'd hunt the hounds if you 
 gave her half a chance. But that ain't got nothing to do 
 with my story. If Simpson hadn't left that calf hanging 
 about and had kep' his door shut he wouldn't have lost 
 nothing " 
 
 A light broke in on Joey's mind, and in another minute 
 he knew that Peters was at the bottom of the mystery. 
 Still, careful not to interrupt again, he let him go on with 
 his account of the various methods he adopted of abduct- 
 ing the hounds. 
 
 The conciseness of his narrative, his comments on his 
 own conduct, and his anxiety to remove suspicion from 
 or justify his accomplices, aft'orded Joey a sort of enter- 
 tainment absolutely unique in his, or, as he thought, in 
 any other man's experience. 
 
 It was with the greatest difficulty at times that he 
 refrained from laughing, for the comic element of the 
 whole affair was thrown into strong relief by the unfeigned 
 contrition of the principal actor, who, Joey felt, would 
 
238 MR SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 deeply resent the thought that his confession could be 
 made a subject for merriment. Joey had, moreover, 
 somewhat the feelings of a parent, who, while listening 
 to the confession of his little first-born, and longing to 
 take him in his arms, feels bound to assume that expres- 
 sion of gravity demanded by the solemnity of the occasion. 
 
 " And that fox's head," said Peters, approaching the 
 end of his story, " had been hanging up in my room for 
 five years. Now, you would think, naturally, Mr. Spinks, 
 that having done all this — and it was very wonderful in 
 my opinion how I managed to do it — and got back into 
 my old place, that 1 would have been as happy as possible ; 
 but you can't think how miserable 1 began to feel as soon 
 as the doctor told me you wanted me to come back to the 
 kennels. 
 
 " It was your kindness, and everybody's kindness, as 
 did it. The flowers you brought only reminded me of 
 my wickedness every time I looked at 'em, and when 1 
 said I couldn't bear the smell — it was only an excuse to 
 get rid of them — you kep' on bringing a lot more as 
 hadn't got any ; and I used to drop the grapes under the 
 bed, or throw them out of the window, when it was 
 open, rather than swallow them. 
 
 '' Then I comes back home, and instead of getting 
 better 1 gets worse, till 1 says to Sam this morning, ' Sam,' 
 says I, ' I'm going to tell Mr. Spinks' ; and then I promised 
 him I wouldn't, 'cos he'd lose his place — and there's an 
 end of it — but you won't forget your promise about 
 Sam ? " 
 
 The old man drew a long breath, as if he had laid down 
 a burden he was unable to carry further, and cast his 
 eyes down on his hounds, looking steadily at each of 
 them in turn, as it were to impress its image more 
 strongly on his memory. 
 
 " Well, Peters," said Joey, after he had watched him 
 for some time, " what do you expect me to say ? " 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 239 
 
 "There's nothing to be said, sir, only that I'll stay on 
 if you wish, till you can find another huntsman to take 
 my place." 
 
 " No, Peters ; that won't do, I will tell you what con- 
 clusion I have come to ; we are quits — you and I — 
 quits." 
 
 " That's it; Mr. Spinks, I quits." 
 
 " No, Peters, you don't understand. I say we are 
 quits. When I turned you away, I thought I was acting 
 for the good of the hounds, and I was not. You thought 
 you were acting for the good of the hounds, and you 
 were. So far you have the best of it. But I had a right, 
 in a sense, to do what I did, whereas you had no right, 
 in any sense, to do what you did. So as I am at least 
 as much to blame as you are, and it has all turned out 
 for the best, and we have taught one another a lesson 
 neither of us is likely to forget, let us forgive one another 
 and shake hands on it." 
 
 Peters withdrew his hand from Joey's to brush away 
 the tears that were coursing down the wrinkles of his 
 cheeks. 
 
 " Come, Peters, pull yourself together. We had better 
 shove along a bit." 
 
 So saying, Joey called to the whip, who was some 
 distance in front, to trot on. 
 
240 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Mr. Bond had accompanied his daughter to the meet, 
 but had gone home early, leaving her under the charge 
 of Mr. Brain, who promised to take all possible care of 
 her. 
 
 When, at the end of the day. Lord Winterfield offered 
 to escort her to Spetchley, as Mr. Brain's road lay in 
 another direction, she accepted his offer without hesi- 
 tation. 
 
 She had of late taken a liking to Lord Winterfield. 
 She was inclined to think she had been hard on him, 
 and that there was no sufficient cause for Mrs. Spink's 
 alarm on her behalf. Besides this, the sorrow of his 
 father's death — for she imagined what her sorrow would 
 be in such a case, and .credited him with her own feelings 
 — aroused her sympathy, and she allowed herself to be- 
 come more interested than was, perhaps, discreet on her 
 part in the fate of one so handsome, so melancholy, and 
 withal so unfortunate. 
 
 In spite of the melancholy air which he at times 
 assumed, and which seldom failed to excite the interest 
 it was intended to evoke. Lord Winterfield was generally 
 an amusing as well as an interesting companion. 
 
 Crichton's departure, having relieved the immediate 
 pressure which necessitated his making precipitate attacks 
 upon the heiress, allowed him to prosecute his suit with 
 more discretion and a better chance of success. And 
 not being for the moment in want of funds, for his last 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 24 1 
 
 visit to the metropolis had been tinancially a great 
 success, he was all the more inclined to make himself 
 agreeable to Miss Bond, whose marked change of manner 
 towards him in the last few days encouraged and flat- 
 tered a desire that had taken stronger root than he 
 suspected. 
 
 As they trotted gaily along the road on their way home,. 
 he was lost in admiration of her beauty. It was not her 
 features, which were by no means perfect ; it was not 
 her elegance, nor her colouring — although the enjoyment 
 of the day (for she enjoyed everything — even a bad day's 
 sport) — had given her the complexion of an apple-blossom ; 
 nor was it the whiteness of her teeth, betokening good 
 health and a sound constitution ; it was the soul of the 
 girl, the beauty of her mind and character rather than of 
 her external form that fascinated him, as it fascinated all 
 who came in contact with her. 
 
 He had never been what is called " a ladies' man." A 
 virtuous woman of his own class he had always con- 
 sidered a person to be avoided. If he had troubled him- 
 self to win the affections of such, it was where there 
 could be no question of matrimony, and where — if the 
 worst came to the worst — money could be the only com- 
 pensation offered. The gratification of a passing whim 
 might prove expensive, but after all somebody must get 
 the money, and it were well spent. 
 
 As for love, he had known many beautiful women, and 
 more than one had professed to love him with a sort of 
 love which he reciprocated, but here was a strange, 
 • another kind of love, a subtle influence stealing in un- 
 awares and taking possession — uninvited and, till now, 
 unperceived and unsuspected. 
 
 Once before he felt a pang of jealousy when Joey rode 
 off with her in the park at Spetchley. Then he did not 
 
 16 
 
242 
 
 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 trouble himself to analyse the sensation, but woe betide 
 the man that might come between them now ! 
 
 Accustomed to success, he never seriously doubted 
 being able to win her love. The opportunity was all he 
 wanted, and now, encouraged by her friendliness and 
 fired by his passion, he resolved to hazard the attempt. 
 
 There were, however, other horsemen travelling the 
 same road, who, as they varied their pace, were constantly 
 overtaking them, or being overtaken by them. Lord Win- 
 terfield felt it was difficult to make a proposal at a round 
 trot, and it was impossible to say, " Do you mind walking, 
 Miss Bond, till everyone has gone past, and is out of sight, 
 as I wish to make you the offer of my hand in matri- 
 mony." 
 
 
 As he was wondering what excuse he could invent to 
 shake off his fellow travellers, his practised ear detected 
 the sound of a loose shoe, and he lost no time in taking 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS, 243 
 
 advantage of the accident. On hearing that her horse 
 had a shoe loose Miss Bond pulled up, and her companion, 
 quickly dismounting and lifting her horse's forefoot, 
 managed, by a dexterous wrench, to make it a great deal 
 looser than it already was, assuring her at the same time 
 that no harm would come of it provided she were content 
 to go slowly the rest of the way. When they moved on 
 again the sound of the loose shoe was painfully audible 
 to the inexperienced rider, who, magnifying the possible 
 consequences of losing a shoe altogether, professed her 
 willingness to walk all the way on foot rather than inflict 
 the slightest injury upon her horse. 
 
 It was some time before Lord Winterfield, looking 
 behind him, saw that the road was clear, and that there 
 was little chance of interruption. 
 
 " Miss Jessie," he began. 
 
 She started and looked straight at him. Her clear eyes 
 met his, and a sense of fear, mingled with regret, came 
 over her. 
 
 " I have told you," he went on, with a slight tremor in 
 his voice, " how unhappy my life has been — how blighted 
 and loveless. I have sought for love in woman and found 
 dross, and have sometimes thought that there is no such 
 thing as love — at least, none in which I may have a part. 
 The longing that I thought was dead, that lay withered 
 in my heart, revived, Jessie, when I saw you first. It 
 stretched forth its feeble arms and cried to you for pity. 
 You gave it, and I loved you for your sweet compassion. 
 Since then, Jessie " 
 
 '* Stop ! stop ! Lord Winterfield ; you must not — you 
 dare not speak to me like this ! What have I done that 
 you should say such words to me ? " 
 
 " I will tell you — you have made me love you. The 
 hope which one unkind word or look from you would 
 have killed for ever you have fostered and encouraged. 
 
244 ^^R- SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 You have taught it to turn to you for hfe. It has grown 
 strong, and now demands what it has been taught to 
 seek." 
 
 " I cannot — I will not — hear you. You do not know 
 what you are saying. For pity's sake leave me, or let me 
 go on by myself." 
 
 " I cannot, Jessie, till you have heard me, and then I 
 will not, for you will be my own — my wife ! " 
 
 Miss Bond grew as pale as death. Her eyes literally 
 glowed. 
 
 " Lord Winterfield," she said, in a calm voice, that 
 contrasted strangely with her looks, " I am an engaged 
 woman." 
 
 Into the rivulet of pure love that trickled, as it were, 
 through the heart of the libertine, jealousy let loose in a 
 moment the turbid flood of his tumultuous passions. The 
 unbridled license of his nature would brook no obstacle 
 in the path of its desires. 
 
 " Engaged ! " he hissed between his clenched teeth, 
 and then laughed a sinister and godless laugh. " En- 
 gaged — yes, to me ! for what man will marry you when 
 I tell him you are — as good as my wife ? You shall have 
 me ! By God, you shall ! " and he seized her by the wrist. 
 
 In his frenzy he had forgotten where he was, and was 
 unconscious that for some minutes he had been watched. 
 
 " You had better ride on, sir, and see what Lord 
 Onions is up to," Peters said to Joey; "she seems to 
 be giving his lordship snulif. Depend on it, he don't 
 mean no good by her." 
 
 Joey, who had already come to the same conclusion, 
 set spurs to his horse, and keeping on the grass by the 
 roadside, got close up to them unnoticed, just at the 
 moment when Lord Winterfield seized Miss Bond by the 
 wrist. 
 
 " Hands off ! " he shouted, dashing in between them. 
 " How dare you lay hands on a woman ? " 
 
MR. SPIi^'KS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 245 
 
 As he reined his horse on to his haunches he came into 
 violent collision with Lord Winterfield. 
 
 " Who the devil are you ? " exclaimed the latter, mak- 
 ing a cut at the intruder with the butt end of his hunting- 
 
 crop, which, narrowly missing Joey's head, spent its force 
 upon his horse's neck. Beside himself with rage, Joey 
 raised his hunting-crop and spurred towards his assailant. 
 
246 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 whose back was now towards him ; but before the intended 
 blow could descend a tremendous cut from Peters' lash 
 over the quarters of Lord Winterlield's horse, made that 
 animal bound forward, and the crop hissed harmless 
 through the air. 
 
 On turning round Lord Winterfield found himself con- 
 fronted by four resolute-looking men — both the whips 
 were known to be handy with the gloves — and saw at 
 once that it was useless to attempt to chastise Joey on the 
 spot. 
 
 " You infernal little hairdresser," he said ; " you shall 
 smart for this," and, so saying, he turned his horse's head 
 and rode off. 
 
 A woman of weaker nerves than Jessie Bond would 
 have gone into hysterics. As it was she had to make a 
 great effort to control herself, and could not well express 
 the gratitude she felt towards her deliverer. She thanked 
 him, however, for his timely intervention, and, explaining 
 that she was unable to go fast along the road on account 
 of the loose shoe, asked him to stay and see her safe home. 
 
 " Lor ! miss," exclaimed Peters, looking at her horse's 
 foot, " that shoe will keep on till you get home. You had 
 better get along as quick as you can." 
 
 Then, turning to the first whip, he told him to accom- 
 pany Miss Bond and Joey to Spetchley, and on no 
 account to leave the latter before he got back to " The 
 Hall." 
 
 Beyond thanking Joey for his kindness, and expressing 
 a hope that he was not hurt, Jessie Bond made no allusion 
 to Lord Winterfield. Joey could only guess what had 
 happened from the pallor of her face, and the agitation 
 which she could not altogether conceal. 
 
247 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 Early the next morning a messenger called at the inn 
 at Bosby with a note for the Earl of Winterfield from 
 Mrs. Spinks, requesting him to call upon her as soon as 
 he could make it convenient. The note gave no hint as 
 to the purpose of the interview, and Lord Winterfield 
 concluded that the writer was anxious about her son's 
 curly head, and desired to make peace between them. 
 Accordingly, after his breakfast, which was earlier that 
 morning than usual, he betook himself to "The Hall," and 
 was shown into the boudoir where Mrs. Spinks was alone 
 and ready to receive him. Having slept over the matter 
 he had come to the conclusion that it was beneath his 
 dignity, as well as injudicious, to take any further steps 
 towards Joey's chastisement, and was prepared to accede 
 to his mother's tender solicitations on his behalf. There- 
 fore, expecting tears and supplication, he was somewhat 
 taken aback on being received with marked coldness and 
 reserve. Mrs. Spinks did not ask him to sit down, and 
 remained standing herself. 
 
 " Perhaps you do not know," she began, " that your 
 father, a few months after your mother's death, did me 
 the great honour of proposing for my hand." 
 
 The recollection of what his father had said about the 
 neatest filly he had ever set eyes on flashed across his 
 mind. He bowed and expressed his overwhelming regret 
 that Fate had been so cruel as to deny him such a step- 
 
248 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 mother. There was irony in the poHteness of his speech 
 and manner, but Mrs. Spinks took no notice and went on : 
 
 " Before I married, my name was Hall, and my father 
 was a tenant of the late Earl of Winterfield. I remember 
 you as a child coming to the farm ; but as you were only 
 four or five years old at the time I speak of, I have no 
 doubt you have no recollection of it." 
 
 Again Lord Winterfield bowed, and expressed a hope 
 that Mrs. Spinks would pardon his having forgotten her. 
 
 " By your father's dishonourable persecution," she con- 
 tinued, " I was driven from the home of my childhood, 
 and went to London. Even there he pursued me, and I 
 was rescued from violence at his hands by Mr. Spinks, 
 who afterwards became my husband." 
 
 " I can hardly think," said Lord Winterfield, interrupt- 
 ing, " that you have sent for me to listen to abuse of one 
 who, whatever his faults may have been, was my father, 
 and is now in his grave. And surely his admiration of 
 such beauty as you must have once possessed can scarcely 
 be deemed a crime. As for the rest, I am quite willing 
 to believe, from all 1 have heard, that Mr. Spinks was a 
 most estimable man." 
 
 Ignoring the latter part of his speech, she replied : 
 
 '' You are quite right, Lord Winterfield, that is not the 
 reason I sent for you ; but I wished first to explain why I 
 tolerated you in my presence or in the neighbourhood, 
 seeing how much I know to the discredit of your family 
 and yourself. I tried to forget about your father, and to 
 make excuses for you. 1 told myself that I had no right 
 to judge you, no right to cast a stone — but I was wrong. 
 I should have boldly denounced you to the world, and 
 refused to have my house polluted by your presence." 
 
 " Because, madam, the late Earl of Winterfield had the 
 audacity to lift his eyes to the daughter of one of his 
 tenants ? " 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 249 
 
 "No, Lord Winterfield, not for that reason ; but for one 
 with which you are more intimately concerned. Where 
 is Bessie Longman?" 
 
 " Is that a conundrum, Mrs. Spinks ? If so, for the Hfe of 
 me, I cannot guess the answer." 
 
 " You lie. Lord Winterfield, like a coward. You know 
 that after you betrayed and deserted her, the poor girl 
 found out that her marriage was nothing but a mockery ; 
 you know that when her child died she went out of her 
 mind ; you know that for years you paid for her mainten- 
 ance in an asylum ; you know that only this year you 
 ceased the payments — because the wretched woman had 
 destroyed herself ! And you ask me if it is a conundrum ! 
 The riddle to me is how a just and beneficent Creator can 
 suffer so vile a creature as yourself to encumber the 
 surface of His earth ! " 
 
 Mil ft^rd 
 
 '^ I / 
 
 ^1 ii i 
 
 ') ! ^ r^. 
 
 ^■^:> 
 
 ■^c^>^^ ^,^^^ 
 
 'I i ^:L' 
 
 
 < 71 
 
 ■ ' 1- 
 
 ^^ 
 
250 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 " I am sorry, my dear Mrs. Spinks, that you should 
 distress yourself so much about what concerns you so 
 little. If you would only " 
 
 "You are wrong, they do concern me. I have been 
 silent too long, or you could not have insulted Miss Bond, 
 as you have done, by your addresses. 1 have sent for you 
 to tell you that as soon as you are out of this house I am 
 going straight to Spetchley to tell Mr. Bond all that I 
 have just told you. If you take my advice, you will leave 
 this place within an hour." 
 
 So saying, she rang a hand-bell which stood on the table 
 beside her, and the door opened immediately. 
 
 " Bullock, show Lord Winterfield out of the house." 
 
 Without another word, or so much as look at her visitor, 
 she passed through another door into the adjoining room. 
 
 In the course of the morning, Mr. Bond, horsewhip in 
 hand, walked down to the village inn, and enquired for 
 Lord Winterfield. 
 
 His lordship had gone to town and had not said when 
 he would return. 
 
251 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 What had happened to Jessie Bond ? Mrs. Spinks, after 
 her interview with her father, had sought her, expecting 
 to find some traces of that pallor and agitation which Joey 
 had described the evening before ; but she found roses on 
 her cheeks, and the light of happiness in her eyes. In 
 her hand was a telegram she had just received. 
 
 " You look in a merry mood, Jessie ; what has hap- 
 pened ? " 
 
 " Guess ! " said Jessie, laughing, and holding the tele- 
 gram behind her. 
 
 " How can I possibly guess ? Tell me what it is." 
 
 " I will, after I have told father. I must tell him first ! " 
 
 As she spoke, Mr. Bond entered the room. The 
 features which generally wore a jolly, open-hearted, easy- 
 going expression, were set with a look of serious deter- 
 mination. 
 
 " Is it true, Jessie," he said, " that Lord Winterfield 
 has been rude to you ? " 
 
 " Yes, father," she replied with some embarrassment, 
 " he was." 
 
 "Why did you not tell me of it at the time, my child?" 
 
 " Because, father," said the girl, going up to him and 
 putting her hands on his shoulders, " I thought it would 
 worry you, and 1 kjiew I should never give him the 
 chance of being rude to me again." 
 
 He bent and kissed her forehead, as she looked up at 
 him, and was about to go, but she detained him. 
 
252 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 "Father," she said, taking her eyes off his, "Jack has 
 come to England." 
 
 " Jack who ? " 
 
 " Mr. Chatterton." 
 
 "Well, my girl, write and ask him to come here." 
 
 " He is coming." 
 
 " Who asked him ? " 
 
 " No one — at least, I didn't ; but you told him to be 
 sure to come and see us if he came to England." 
 
 " When is he coming ? " 
 
 " By the two o'clock train, father — may I go and meet 
 him ? " 
 
 Mr. Bond took his child's face between his hands, and 
 looked lovingly upon it. The stern look had left his 
 features, and it was not difficult to read his thoughts. 
 
 " I suppose," he said, " you don't want your old father 
 to go with you ? Yes, Jessie, you may go; but take one 
 of the grooms to drive you." 
 
 The stern, determined look returned as he left the room, 
 and went towards the stables to get his horsewhip. 
 
 In happy ignorance of her father's intention, which, 
 as our reader is aware, was frustrated by his lordship's 
 departure, Jessie counted the minutes as they went slowly 
 by, till it was time to start. She was on the platform as 
 the two o'clock train steamed into the station. She caught 
 a glimpse of a face she was looking for, and waved her 
 hand. 
 
 Only one passenger got out of the train, and an in- 
 quisitive fellow-traveller, leaning out of the window of 
 the next carriage, wondered who the good-looking chap 
 was, and what relation he was to the girl who was there 
 to meet him. Not brother and sister, for they weren't a 
 bit alike — nor husband and wife, for a husband would 
 have kissed that girl^cousins, perhaps — certainly not 
 lovers, they were too cool and collected. He tried in 
 
MR. SriNKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 253 
 
 vain to extract some information from tiie numerous 
 articles of baggage that were taken out of the van. " He 
 has come to stay some time anyway," thought the in- 
 quisitive one ; but the guard signalled to the engine- 
 driver, and the train carried him off to solve similar 
 problems — let us hope more successfully — at other 
 stations. 
 
 The luggage was soon stowed away in the carriage, 
 and Jessie told the coachman to drive round by the road 
 and wait for them at the stile, as Mr. Chatterton preferred 
 taking the short cut across the fields. 
 
 We will neither watch them nor listen to what they 
 say as they walk side by side along the hedgerows. 
 
 It may suffice our reader to know that Mr. Chatterton 
 had just been made a partner in his father's firm, and 
 was, therefore, in a position to ask Mr. Bond for the 
 blessing which, on certain conditions, he had promised 
 Lord Winterfield — and also that the carriage had been 
 waiting for them some time at the stile before they ap- 
 peared. 
 
254 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 One hunting-morning early in December, just as Peters 
 was leaving the kennels, he got a message from Hutchins 
 to say the old dog-fox was back again. He was riding the 
 chestnut mare which Joey had given him. She had proved 
 herself all that he first thought her. As he jogged quietly 
 along, he ran his eye over his hounds ; they were fit for 
 anything. And he thought of the number of times that 
 wily old fox had baffled him, and, although the meet was 
 three miles or more from Copley, he set his heart on 
 having another try at hhn that very morning. 
 
 At the meet there was a long consultation. Peters was 
 for going straight off to Copley ; but Parkes and Murray, 
 amongst others, agreed with Joey that, as they had fixed 
 the meet by request to draw certain coverts, which they 
 had not drawn that season, they would give offence if 
 they did not draw them. There were, moreover, several 
 cottagers and small farmers complaining of the damage 
 done by the foxes. Mr. Johnson gave his vote on the 
 same side, so that Peters was practically single-handed 
 against the field, a good many of whom did not believe 
 in certainties, maintaining there was as good a chance of 
 finding in one place as in another. 
 
 Peters, however, was, in effect, master of the situation ; 
 for while he obeyed his master's orders to the letter, he 
 managed to evade them in the spirit, by avoiding the 
 most likely places, and hurrying his hounds on more than 
 once when they seemed inclined to dwell upon a stale 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 255 
 
 line. He thus successfully brought his hounds out of the 
 wood, declaring to Joey that he knew he should draw 
 them blank, and, blowing his horn, trotted off to Copley. 
 
 Those who were accustomed to Peters' ways expected 
 something of the sort, and knew well enough what the 
 sound of the horn meant. Jessie Bond, bent on seeing 
 all she could of the fun, always made a practice of riding 
 in Peters' pocket ; and Jack Chatterton was, of course, 
 w^ith her. Mr. Johnson, Murray, and Parkes were among 
 the knowing ones ; Joey was, naturally, with his hounds, 
 and Colonel Rideabout was there by accident. The rest 
 of the field were left behind discussing politics — or what 
 not ? — at the covert side. 
 
 Hutchins met Parkes in the road by his farm. 
 
 " He's in the old willow," he said ; '^ I saw him go in 
 there this morning as I came from the sheepfold." 
 
 From where they stood they could see the brook that 
 wound by the bottom of the meadow, beyond the farm 
 buildings. Beyond the meadow an osier-bed ran some 
 distance by the side of the stream, and on the bank 
 opposite stood a row of old pollard w^illows ; while above 
 them, on the side of the hill, lay the sheep fold, where 
 the shepherd, with one or two men, was at work. 
 
 '' It's the third tree from this end, Mr. Spinks," said 
 Hutchins, pointing out Reynard's retreat. '* You see the 
 one that leans over the brook. He runs up the trunk, 
 and there's as snug a place among the branches as he 
 could find anywhere. He comes down either way ; going 
 back the way he came, or jumping from the top on to 
 this bank." 
 
 Peters, who had been studying the clouds that were 
 flying before a strong wind, decided that the fox would 
 adopt the latter course, rather than face the hill in the 
 teeth of such a wind ; so, calling the first whip, he told 
 him to go round by the bridge, which was some distance 
 
256 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 off, to the other side of the stream, where he would put 
 the hounds over to him. '* Go quietly," he added, " and 
 see that those men yonder don't put him away before I 
 come down wnth the hounds." 
 
 Mr. Johnson, for some reason best known to himself, 
 went with the whip, the others electing to remain with 
 Peters and the hounds. 
 
 The fox, in the meantime, had been taking his own view 
 of the situation, and had made up his mind that the men 
 in the sheepfold, who had' been there since sunrise, were 
 less dangerous than the new arrivals in the scarlet coats, 
 of which he had already had some disagreeable experience 
 — experience which inclined him to give them as wide a 
 berth as possible. Therefore, the moment he saw Peters 
 descending the meadow with his hounds, he stole quietly 
 from his snug harbour, and, slipping along the bank under 
 the shelter of the sheep-hurdles, presently turned up the 
 hill where it was comparatively sheltered from the wind. 
 Luck was against him, however, for, in spite of his keep- 
 ing as low as possible in the deepest furrow he could find, 
 the shepherd caught sight of him just as he reached the 
 top of the hill. 
 
 At the yell which announced the fact that their quarry 
 had gone away, the hounds in a body splashed into the 
 stream, and, without waiting to shake themselves as they 
 scrambled out on the other side, followed the whip who 
 was cheering them on to the spot where the fox had been 
 viewed. 
 
 " Watch me. Miss Bond ! " cried Peters, " and do 
 exactly what I do." 
 
 So saying, he took his mare by the head, spoke sharply 
 to her, and sent her at full speed towards the brook. The 
 take-off was smooth and sound, and the mare cleared the 
 water with a yard or two to spare. Jessie Bond, imita- 
 ting Peters exactly, was equally successful. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 25/ 
 
 " Come on, Jack, I can't wait for you," she cried, and, 
 giving one look behind her, set off as fast as her good 
 httle horse could carry her, Joey and the second whip 
 negotiated the brook higher up. Murray got over too, 
 but he chose a bad place, and, the bank giving way as he 
 landed, he narrowly escaped falling backwards into the 
 stream. Parkes, as usual, had discovered an easier place, 
 where the bank sloped down to the water's edge. His 
 overweighted mare, as well accustomed to his ways as he 
 was to hers, slipped down the bank all four feet together, 
 with her rjeck craning over the water, and, making a com- 
 paratively small jump, landed safely on the further slope. 
 
 '' For goodness sake give me a lead. Colonel," cried 
 Chatterton ; " I can't get this brute to look at it ! " 
 
 " I am sorry to say my horse doesn't like water," replied 
 the gallant Colonel, " or I should be most happy." 
 
 " But, hang it ! try, man, try ! I have never jumped 
 anything in my life, but I do try ! " exclaimed Jack, almost 
 crying with vexation, as his horse for the third time 
 refused and threw him on to his neck. 
 
 He could just hear the hounds, and could see Jessie's 
 hat bobbing along the sky-line for a few seconds before 
 it disappeared. 
 
 Mr. Johnson and the first whip were the only two with 
 the hounds, and the pace was too good for the others to 
 catch them as long as they went straight. 
 
 " He must turn soon," thought Peters, trying all he 
 could to get an occasional glimpse of the leading hounds. 
 " He can't stand up much longer at this pace against this 
 wind." As the thought passed through his mind he saw- 
 Mr. Johnson turn left-handed. 
 
 "This way, Miss Bond," he cried, turning to the left; 
 "always turn when the hounds turn. That's right ! you'll 
 soon learn to ride to hounds." 
 
 The hounds kept on bearing to the left, and Peters 
 
 17 
 
258 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 gradually got nearer to them, continuing his instructions 
 by the way : 
 
 " You're going quite fast enough, Miss Bond; remember 
 you never know how far you may have to go, so save 
 your horse as much as you can. That's not the way to 
 jump a place like that ; you musn't rush at all fences as if 
 they was the river Thames ; you'll get a fall if you do as 
 sure as possible in a country like this. There, now you 
 
 /' ^ 
 
 see we are close enough to them for anything. No, not 
 that way, young lady ; there's no use jumping in there 
 after the master, we have to follow Mr. Johnson." 
 
 As they entered a wood he caught the gate as it swung 
 behind his old master, and, swinging it wide for Miss 
 Bond, was the next moment with his hounds, whose cry 
 rang through the trees above them as they crashed through 
 the thick undergrowth. 
 
 " Hark ! holloa-back, on the right," cried Joey. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 259 
 
 " Another fox, sir," said Peters, as he galloped on down 
 the ride, blowing his horn. 
 
 But the hounds paid no attention to horn or holloa, 
 for though thev had lowered their noses they still seemed 
 glued to the hunted fox. As they came out into the ride 
 lower down the wood, they swept to the right and raced 
 along the open sward. In another minute they were 
 again flying across the fields towards Wildred's Castle, 
 which was still three miles or more in front of them. The 
 pace was tremendous. Fortunately for Miss Bond, the 
 fences, though frequent, were not formidable. At length 
 they came out on to the open heath. It was a wild tract 
 of country ; heather and gorse covered the undulating 
 ground, and looked dark and bleak beneath the stormy 
 sky. A heavy shower, that struck sharp and cold across 
 the riders' faces, seemed to make the scent even stronger 
 than it was before. 
 
 ''We shall kill him this time," said Mr. Johnson ; "just 
 look at them ! " 
 
 " Don't know that, sir," said Peters ; " he's a queer 
 customer, and he ain't had no leisure up to now to show 
 us any of his little tricks." 
 
 They now entered the big woods that lay round Wil- 
 dred's Castle. 
 
 " You can't get across there," Murray called out, as 
 Peters pushed his way through the covert towards the 
 brook. 
 
 " Come along, sir," cried Peters, to Mr. Johnson ; "come 
 along with me ; don't mind Mr. Murray ! " 
 
 The next minute he slid down the trench which he had 
 dug some weeks before into the water. The opposite 
 bank was steep, but, thanks to Parkes, not insurmountable. 
 
 " 1 never knew of this place," exclaimed Mr. Johnson, 
 as he followed close behind Peters. 
 
 " No more did I till quite lately," replied Peters. 
 
2 00 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 It was as much as Jessie Bond's horse could do, but 
 she caught hold of his mane and they just managed to 
 get to the top. 
 
 Here they came to their first check ; but it was only 
 momentary. The hounds turned sharp to the right, then 
 back to the right again. 
 
 " Steady, Mr. Spinks. He has been putting in a little 
 bit of work for us. Leave 'em alone, they'll soon unravel 
 it," and the old huntsman stood watching his beauties 
 as they faultlessly followed the invisible thread which the 
 fox had twisted in and out of the thicket. " For'ard on " 
 — they were going ahead once more. Presently they 
 flashed across an open drain and spread through the 
 covert. Peters saw in an instant what had happened. 
 The drain was deep, and ran the full length of the wood. 
 In the winter two or three inches of water lay in the 
 bottom. Without hesitating a second, he galloped on in 
 a line parallel with the drain. 
 
 " Get on to him, get on to him ! " cried the whips, and 
 the crack of their heavy thongs resounded among the 
 trees. Peters kept on till he was out of the wood, and 
 then cast his hounds along the hedge. 
 
 " Yoicks ! Galloper ! " What would you have given, 
 dear fellow fox-hunter, to have seen the old hound stoop' 
 to the scent under that hedge — dart along the furrow — 
 speak once gently, as if speaking to himself, and then,, 
 throwing his tongue, lead the clamorous pack across the 
 plough ? You can understand why Peters hoped — nay, 
 believed — that there would be a pack of hounds, every 
 one of them as good as Galloper, in the next world. 
 
 "Hark! holloa, for'ard"! There was no need to lift 
 the hounds ; they were hunting steadily, and their fox 
 was not far in front of them. 
 
 On they went, across the fields, where the frightened 
 sheep fled for safety up the hill, where the cattle lowered 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 261 
 
 their heads and snorted as they passed, and the plough- 
 boy chmg to his leader's bridle. The village schoolboy 
 climbed upon the form to see the hunters gallop down 
 the road, and for the rest of the day drew horses on his 
 slate. The sexton, who had holloaed from the church- 
 yard, cheered the hounds across the grassy mound, where 
 lay, perchapce, some old-tune lover of the sport. Who 
 knows but that his spirit saw the Hunt sweep down the 
 hill by Potter's farm, and through the farmyard, where 
 the ducks hastened to the grass-green pond ; thence on- 
 ward by the old mill, past the brick-kiln, and away into 
 woods beyond, sighing — if spirits sigh — as he laid himself 
 once more to rest. 
 
 " Hold hard, there ! HoM hard ! " Peters shouted, as 
 Colonel Rideabout, followed by a dozen horsemen or 
 more, who had to thank him for ever knowing that the 
 hounds had found, came galloping up the road right 
 across the line in front of the hounds. As the gallant 
 officer reined in his panting steed the hounds came out 
 into the road all amongst the horses' legs. 
 
 *' You ought to know better," said Peters, as he came 
 up, for he was accustomed to give offenders a bit of his 
 mind, ''than to cut in like this in front of the hounds. 
 Turn your horse's head the other way ! Turn your 
 horse's head with the hounds ! Get out of my way ! Get 
 out of my way ! " and he pushed roughly between the 
 Colonel and Chatterton, and, passing through a gateway, 
 held his hounds into the field beyond. 
 
 Fortunately the scent was good, and no harm had been 
 done. 
 
 " For'ard, for'ard," shouted the Colonel, as red as a 
 beetroot, wiping the perspiration from his face, while his 
 hair formed a row of tadpoles' tails on the back of his fat 
 neck. What had he done to make such a fuss about ? 
 '^* For'ard on ! " " Capital run ! " he exclaimed five 
 
262 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 minutes later, as if he had ^been in it from the starts 
 * Never saw a better ! " 
 
 The hounds were running slower and slower, which 
 suited those who wanted to look for gates and gaps — and 
 indeed, most of the horses had had enough jumping for 
 the time. 
 
 " Do you hear the jays yonder ? " said Peters, pointing 
 to a wood not far away. " I expects they are tally-ing 
 the fox ; he's waiting for us somewhere about there. Keep 
 your eyes open, Mr. Spinks, you may get a look at him." 
 
 The hounds entered the wood, full cry, but about the 
 centre of it turned short, 
 
 " Look back ! Look back ! " cried Peters. 
 
 '' Tally-ho ! Tally-ho back 1 " yelled Parkes, and Peters 
 came back through the wood blowing his horn. Again 
 the fox doubled, in the hope of baffling his pursuers, but 
 in vain. They turned, and as he turned once more, again 
 they turned. 
 
 Peters was standing half-way down the wood. 
 
 " Look back ! Look back ! " he cried in pleading 
 tones to Chatterton, who was wondering what it all 
 meant. " Don't look at me ! Don't look at me ! I say 
 look back ! " There was another holloa, and Peters 
 came galloping back again. 
 
 " Where are the whips ? There's nobody to help me ! I 
 shall lose him, 1 know I shall ! There, I told you so," he 
 cried, as the hounds suddenly became silent. " Don't let 
 him get out ! Keep your eye down that ride, Murray ! 
 Pop your whip, my dear young lady ! For goodness' sake 
 don't let him get away ! " 
 
 " Tally-ho, gone away ! " came from the far end of the 
 wood, and the next minute the hounds were running once 
 more in the open. 
 
 " Yonder he goes ! " exclaimed Mr. Johnson, as he 
 viewed the fox crawling under the bank, a field and a half 
 in front of the hounds. 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 263 
 
 On went Peters, holloaing and blowing his horn. Crack 1 
 crack ! went the whips, and the hounds went after him. 
 He laid them on again where he had last seen the fox. 
 The bank was honeycombed with rabbit-holes. 
 
 " Who-oop ! gone to ground ! " 
 
 It was a small place, and a young ash-tree grew imme- 
 diately above the hole, into which the beaten fox had 
 crept with his last hope. 
 
 The first whip threw himself from his horse. 
 
 .^-.' 'VA 
 
 Kll 
 
 a 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 '' Who-ooop ! " he cried, seizing the ash-tree and bend- 
 ing it towards the ground. Parkes came to his assistance. 
 Under the combined weight the roots gave way, and, as 
 Parkes came tumbling with a great part of the bank into 
 the field, the hounds rushed in and killed their fox. 
 
264 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 As we glance our critical eye over the pages of Joey's 
 diary, we come to the conclusion that Peters was right, 
 and that the events so minutely detailed therein have little 
 interest for the general reader. And yet, among the 
 voluminous account of " clinkers," " bursts," and " good 
 hunting runs," we note here and there an event, a precept, 
 or a touch of nature, which may interest anyone who wishes 
 to know more of Joey and his friends, and will lead up to 
 the events of the following spring, with which our story 
 concludes. 
 
 We reluctantly pass over the glowing description of the 
 famous run, at the end of which Joey presented the brush 
 to Mary Brain, the account of the day on which Peters 
 killed five foxes, and the story of the fox who, according 
 to Peters, " must have concealed himself somehow," as 
 well as the remarks on the bloodthirstiness of the old 
 huntsman, and Mr. Johnson's dissertations — quoted at 
 length with loving hand by an admiring pupil — on the 
 craft of woodland-hunting. 
 
 Some of the entries may cause surprise. For instance — 
 " Dec. 19. — Mrs, Bond was out on wheels." Who of our 
 readers does not imagine Mr. Bond a widower, having 
 forgotten that his wife was one of the guests at Joey's 
 dinner party. The MS. continues : " She is a charming 
 lady, but her deafness is a great drawback ; it prevents 
 her joining in any fun that is going on. She says she 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 265 
 
 likes tO' hear her daughter sing because she looks so 
 lovely ! " 
 
 This lady, liowever, since the announcement, early in 
 December, of the engagement of her daughter to Mr. 
 Chatterton, was become anything but a cipher in the 
 house, where preparations were being hurried forward for 
 the marriage, which was fixed to take place about the 
 middle of April. 
 
 Whether it was that example is contagious, or that he 
 was jealous of his friends' happiness, to which the diary 
 makes constant allusions, Joey appears at this time to 
 have taken little pains to disguise from himself, however 
 much he may have concealed from others, his sentiments 
 and intentions regarding Miss Brain. As he hunted only 
 two days a week, with an occasional bye-day, the remaining 
 days of the week afforded ample opportunity of gratifying 
 these sentiments, and of supplying fuel for the ever-in- 
 creasing passion that was consuming him. The ladies 
 were expected to luncheon at every shooting party, and 
 they were even invited to a picnic at Wildred's Castle, 
 where, in spite of wind and weather, they turned up in 
 waterproofs and goloshes. 
 
 It was on this occasion that, stealing away with Miss 
 Brain along the brook, Joey, in strictest confidence, told 
 hei, the history of Peter's " folly." 
 
 " It was very kind of you to forgive the dear old thing 
 so readily," said the girl, after Joey had come to the end 
 of his tale. "You don't know him as well as I do. It is 
 so like him. The whip told me once that no one who 
 had heard Peters pitching into him in the hunting-field 
 would believe how kind and considerate he was at home. 
 But really I do think he ought not to be allowed to abuse 
 people as he does." 
 
 "Can you prevent him?" replied Joey laughing. 
 ^' I'm sure I could not, and what's more I don't want to 
 
266 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 try, for I believe the more abuse I get the quicker I shall 
 learn. Hard words don't hurt anybody ; but never let 
 him know that I have told you all this, for I promised not 
 to breathe a word of it to anyone — though somehow I 
 don't feel as if my promise included you — you are 
 different." 
 
 They were standing on the edge of the brook, con-^ 
 templating, regardless of the drizzling rain, the trench 
 which was now well worn by the passing of many horse- 
 men. Deeply in love, and fully convinced that his future 
 happiness could only be assured by a favourable answer 
 to the question he had long ago made up his mind to ask, 
 now that the critical moment had arrived, Joey felt his 
 courage oozing through his finger-tips. Had he needed 
 an incentive he might have found one in the natural curls 
 that wantoned, the more crisply for the rain, about her 
 ear, but whatever emphasized her beauty only increased 
 his hesitation : the object of his affections had become 
 endowed with more than the attributes of an angel, and 
 seemed to be receding further and further beyond his 
 reach. At length, breaking the long silence, he repeated, 
 " Somehow, you are different." 
 
 " I can imagine the dear old thing slipping into the 
 brook," said the girl, as if she had not been listening ; " do 
 you think the hounds entered into the joke ?" * 
 
 She turned to Joey as she spoke, and her laughing eyes 
 drove him to desperation. 
 
 ''Miss Brain!" he began, but at that instant Colonel 
 Rideabout's voice was heard exclaiming, " Oh ! here you 
 are ! I've been looking for you everywhere. Didn't you 
 hear us shouting ? Mrs. Spinks says it is ridiculous staying 
 out any longer in the rain ; you are to come back at once." 
 So back they went, feeling like whipped school-children, 
 to the ruins, where they found the rest of the party all 
 eager to be off ; and the all-important question remained 
 
MR. SPINKS AND ITIS HOUNDS. 267- 
 
 unasked. The next day Joey felt the full force of the 
 saying, " he who hesitates is lost," when, on meeting Mr. 
 Brain in the hunting-field, he learned that his daughter 
 had caught a violent chill, and had been ordered by the 
 doctor to keep her bed. This contretemps, which will 
 surprise no one, put an end, for the time being, to Joey's 
 love-making, and a severe frost, as if something were 
 wanting to complete his misery, at the same time stopped 
 all idea of hunting. The following extracts from his 
 diary show how he employed his days, and give other 
 not uninteresting information. 
 
 *' January loth. — Eighth day's hard frost. 1 don't 
 think we shall ever hunt again, and don't believe Peters 
 could get through it if he didn't sleep nearly the whole 
 time. Rode over early to enquire for M.B. The doctor 
 says she is out of danger. What folly to think of having 
 a picnic at this time of year — never again ! Played 
 hockey on the ice at Spetchley in the afternoon, stayed 
 dinner, and skated again by torchlight. Parkes and 
 Murray tried to waltz, but fell and went through, for- 
 tunately not in a deep place. 
 
 Jannary nth. — Drove over to enquire for M.B, She 
 is better, but still in bed. Went out shooting with Mr. 
 Brain, and shot a leporine, the first one I have seen. I 
 see in to-day's paper that Crichton has got fourteen 
 years for forgery. That's the end of him. I think I got 
 rid of him very cheap. Bullock on the subject is worth 
 hearing. 
 
 Jannary 26th. — M.B, downstairs and prettier than ever. 
 Heard of the engagement of Lord Winterfield to Mrs. 
 Swine-le-Fevre. Mr. Johnson knows all about her and 
 says they are well matched. It looks like a change in the 
 weather." 
 
 This prophecy, made without any assistance from the 
 clerk of the weather, came true. The frost broke up, 
 
268 
 
 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS 
 
 Peters awoke, and as Mary Brain advanced towards con- 
 valescence, the diary relapsed into a dull monotony, which 
 is scarcely broken till February 14th, when the receipt of 
 a valentine is duly recorded. The valentine was a fox's 
 brush with scarcely a hair on it, to which was attached a 
 silver label engraved with the words '* killed by J.S." Joey 
 at once fixed on Parkes as the author of this pleasantry, 
 and, as he had long fancied that " old Tom " secretly 
 aspired to win the affections of Mary Brain, he resolved 
 to take his revenge by anticipating his rival. These 
 premature conclusions, however, were rudely upset when, 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 269 
 
 on confiding his intentions to Jessie Bond, he learned 
 from her that Mary Brain herself, and not Parkes, was 
 responsible for the miserable jest. Such a discovery 
 hardly added to Joey's peace of mind, for he found him- 
 self unable to resolve the ambiguity, whether the valentine 
 augured well or ill for his projected proposal. It was 
 with feeliijgs alternating between moderate hope and the 
 deepest despair that he awaited the advent of the Tues- 
 day in the following week, when the hounds were to meet 
 at Mr. Brain's house. That eventful morning at length 
 dawned, and, with a blue sky overhead and a crisp road 
 beneath his horse's feet, Joey rode forth, determined to 
 propose or perish in the attempt. 
 
 The foxes in Mr. Brain's district had been of late more 
 voracious than usual, and a number of farmers had as- 
 sembled at the Hunt breakfast, not to complain of the 
 depredations they had suffered, but to acknowledge the 
 generosity of their young M.F.H., who had so promptly 
 responded to their claims. On entering the room, Joey 
 was received with prolonged applause, during which he 
 was shown to a seat at the far end of the table presided 
 over by his host. As the applause subsided, an old man, 
 the oldest farmer in the Hunt, rose to his feet and, with a 
 rough and simple eloquence, proposed the health of the 
 young Master. The hearty simplicity of this spontaneous 
 greeting went far to banish any nervousness that Joey 
 might have felt, and, rising as the old man resumed his 
 seat, he began : 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, — I am very pleased to think 
 that so far my mastership has more than satisfied your 
 expectations. With regard to the poultry bill, fortunately 
 for you and myself, 1 have, through no merit of my own, 
 enough of this world's goods to indulge to my heart's 
 content in the sport to which we are one and all devoted, 
 and I can assure you that that particular bill is the only 
 
270 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 one I really like paying ; but it is not money that makes 
 sport — it is the sportsman ! Let me give the credit where 
 it is due : to the farmers who let us ride over their land, 
 and, I fear, occasionally break a top-rail ; and to our friend 
 Peters, compared with whom, the oldest and most know- 
 ing of us will confess to being a baby-in-arms in the 
 matter of fox-hunting. One thing I have noticed about 
 the Bosby hounds is that 1 never hear anyone say there is 
 no scent. On the worst scenting day, the hounds have to 
 be whipped off at dark, with a moderate scent they kill 
 their fox, and with a burning scent they run clean away 
 from the best of us. This, in my humble opinion, is due 
 to two men, and to them only — 1 mean Mr. Johnson and 
 his old huntsman. So let us drink long life and happiness 
 to them both, and be off, for I suspect our feasting and 
 speech-making is trying Peters' patience beyond what it 
 can bear." 
 
 This last remark brought about an immediate adjourn- 
 ment, and Peters, being told to move on, lost no time in 
 throwing off ; within a quarter of an hour the hounds 
 were leaving covert on the back of a fine dog-fox. The 
 day, however, soon showed that it was not to be classed 
 under the third head of Joey's category, for, although any- 
 one who wanted to see hounds work had to keep going, 
 after ten minutes a moderate horse could live comfortably 
 with the hounds. Still on they went, carrying the scent 
 over grass and over plough, now fast, now slow, with 
 here and there a momentary check, which forced them to 
 spread with noses to the ground and lips a-tremble ; but 
 once more " hark to Galloper " — how instantly they 
 gather and endorse the note ! 
 
 They have been running for an hour or more, and 
 Joey has piloted Mary Brain from the start. She has 
 confessed to sending the obnoxious valentine, and he has 
 forgiven her : what else could he have done ? And now 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 2/1 
 
 they are alone, a wood through which the hounds are 
 working slowly separating them from the rest of the 
 field. 
 
 " Miss Brain," Joey began abruptly, speaking, for no 
 apparent reason, somewhat huskily, "may I tell you how 
 much I love you ? " She was silent ; so, taking her hand, 
 in a few incoherent sentences he told his tale, and, with 
 feelings more easily imagined than described, awaited her 
 reply. The hounds, too, were silent, as if listening for the 
 word that was to decide his fate. None came, however, 
 but the look she gave him seemed a satisfactory answer, 
 for, emboldened by their horses' proximity, he put his arm 
 round her and imprinted a kiss upon her blushing cheek. 
 Ere he could have fully appreciated the ecstasy of his 
 situation, a " holloa " came faintly from the distance. 
 Was the sound ever so unwelcome, or did Joey ever again 
 repent — supposing even that he repented on this occasion 
 — of going to a '' holloa " in so leisurely a fashion ? 
 
 It so happened that a neighbouring pack, belonging to 
 Lord Everton, had run towards the same point, and the 
 two huntsmen, each ignorant of the other's propinquity, 
 their hounds being at fault, lifted them and galloped to 
 the same holloa, and, as Lord Everton's hounds hit off 
 the scent just as Peters came up, the consequence, almost 
 inevitable, was that the two packs joined, and, before any- 
 one was aware what had happened, were racing together 
 at redoubled speed only a minute or two behind their fox. 
 The impossibility of determining by which pack the fox 
 now being hunted had been found gave rise to a point of 
 etiquette — the question being, which of the two huntsmen 
 should hunt the combined packs. It was certainly the 
 privilege of age, but as Peters and Lord Everton's hunts- 
 man, with equal courtesy, waived that distinction — the 
 latter declaring he was only fifty-five, while the former 
 solemnly asseverated that " he didn't know as how he was 
 
2/2 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 more than four-and-fifty (whereas both, as a matter of fact, 
 had distinct recollection of things that happened in the 
 last century)— the difficulty was solved by Lord Everton, 
 who decided that the whiter head should take precedence. 
 Peters, accordingly, was appointed commander-in-chief 
 and his fellow huntsman, with perfect grace and good 
 feeling, joined the rank and file. 
 
 This little episode of the hunting-field will be appreciated 
 by anyone who has chanced to see, under similar circum- 
 stances, the undignified exhibition of two huntsmen, each 
 unwilling to give way, riding one against the other with 
 ill-humoured jealousy, eventually losing their fox between 
 them, and parting with mutual reproaches and animosity. 
 Unfortunately, on the present occasion, there was little 
 time for Peters to display his generalship, as the increased 
 pressure brought to bear on the fox soon drove that 
 astonished animal to ground. Joey and his companion, 
 for reasons already explained, were perplexed at finding 
 forty couple of hounds baying round the earth, attended 
 by a double contingent of horsemen. After a brief con- 
 sultation, without even a dissentient vote from Peters, 
 reynard's retreat was decided to be impregnable, and the 
 huntsmen were ordered to draw off their hounds. 
 
 '' How will they ever separate them, Joey?" said Mary 
 Brain, the last word being almost inaudible. 
 
 Never having seen it done, Joey was unable to give an 
 answer to the question, but the operation, seemingly so 
 difficult, was carried out simply enough. The two hunts- 
 men, drawing the hounds in a body on to the high road, 
 which was close by, separated, one going to the left, the 
 other to the right, and every hound followed his own 
 master. The two packs were thus divided in less time 
 than it takes to describe how it was done, and the Bosby 
 Hunt returned to draw for a fresh fox in their own 
 country. 
 
MR. SriNKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 273 
 
 Flushed with his hite success, our hero felt equal to 
 anything, so, leaving Mary Brain to trot on by herself in 
 the rear of the hounds, he waited for her father, who 
 rode last of the cavalcade, and boldly demanded of him 
 his daughter's hand in marriage. Mr. Brain, thus per- 
 emptorily addressed, could not resist the temptation of 
 amusing himseH' awhile at the boy's expense, and began 
 to expostulate with him on the ground of his extreme 
 youthfulness, advising him to wait a year or two till he 
 had had more experiences of affairs of the heart. 
 
 " Who knows," he said, " but that you may yet find a 
 dozen charmers, each more irresistible than the last." 
 
 To the charge of youth foev pleaded guilty, but declared 
 that his resolution was unalterably fixed, and that, should 
 lie be obliged to wait, he would out-Jacob Jacob. At 
 length, thinking he had teased the boy enough, Mr. Brain 
 promised that if he found his daughter equally determined 
 and certain of her own constancy, he would give his 
 consent. 
 
 Joey's feelings may be summed up in his own words, 
 ** This is the happiest day of my life ! " 
 
 The desire to tell Peters of his engagement as they rode 
 home together in the dusk of the winter evening was 
 almost irresistible. Two weighty reasons, however, pre- 
 vented it — the first, his resolve that his mother should be 
 the earliest recipient of his confidence ; the second, his 
 promise to Mary Brain not to tell Peters except in her 
 presence. 
 
 It was, therefore, with the utmost impatience that he 
 awaited her first visit to Bosby as his fuuia'c, and the 
 moment she arrived carried her off to the kennels, where 
 they found Peters and Sam in the tield among the 
 hounds. If Joey expected the knowing old huntsman to 
 be surprised, he was disappointed, for, on hearing the 
 news his eyes twinkled, and, taking the girl's hand in his 
 18 
 
2 74 ^'^^- SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 right hand, and Joey's in his left, he said, " And right glad 
 am I to hear it, my dear young lady. I've noticed Mr. 
 Joseph feathering for some time, and thought he would 
 have opened before." 
 
 As for Sam, he made no attempt at congratulating the 
 happy couple, but stood chuckling internally, giving no 
 external sign of emotion save a slight exaggeration of his 
 ordinary squint. 
 
275 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 Clouds of dust and bursting hedgerows proclaimed an 
 early spring, and the close of a successful hunting season 
 found Peters fondly watching his chestnut mare nabbing 
 the lawn-mower in the paddock, and the other inhabitants 
 of Bosby engrossed in the two weddings that were shortly 
 to take place. 
 
 Wedding presents were pouring in at "The Hall." 
 From Mr. Charles Murray came a gold-mounted hunting- 
 crop, a silver salver from Mr. Marshall, and from his 
 sister an antimacassar worked by her own hand. Peters 
 sent a gold fox-head pin, and his wife the photograph of 
 her husband on '* the little chestnut." Sam's contribu- 
 tion was a dog-whip with a wondrous heavy thong, while 
 the two whips expressed their artistic taste in a large 
 silver-rimmed beer-jug, embossed with three couple of 
 hounds in close pursuit of the biggest fox on record. Mr. 
 Thomas Parkes, who was reported to have invented a 
 new cork, and to have sold the patent for a " p-p-pot of 
 money," presented Mary Brain with a diamond star. 
 
 At Spetchley, Mr. Bond was in his element super- 
 intending operations which were being carried out on a 
 scale simply magnificent, while his wife's time was fully 
 occupied by the bridesmaid's dresses and her daughter's 
 trousseau. 
 
 For a description of Jessie Bond's wedding, at which 
 Joey acted as best man we will turn for the last time to 
 his diary. 
 
 " April lytli. — 1 have had my prehmmary canter ; every- 
 
2/6 
 
 MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 thing went off splendidly. Jack and I got to the church 
 too early, and he was desperately nervous by the time 
 Jessie arrived. She looked awfully well coming up the 
 aisle with her father — so did M. The bride's bouquet was 
 magnificent, and she wore her great-great-grandmother's 
 veil. She spoke up well, and wasn't in the least nervous. 
 Jack, too, did pretty well in that respect, when it came to 
 the put to. The village choir sang an anthem they 
 had been practising for weeks. In the middle of it Jessie 
 
 caught my eye, and 1 saw her hand shaking. She told me 
 afterwards she couldn't help it. Old Bond shed the only 
 tears. It must be trying to give away one's only child, 
 but they say he weeps on every possible occasion. Mr. 
 Marshall said a few words off his own bat. What he said 
 was very earnest and in my opinion wonderfully practical. 
 I noticed Jessie listening intently. They say he went the 
 pace when he was at Oxford, but I don't think it could 
 have been very terrific. As we came out of the vestry 
 the schoolma^^tcr struck up the wedding-march on the 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 277 
 
 harmonium ! — 1 really must give them an organ. Nothing 
 could have been more sumptuous than the wedding- 
 breakfast — everything came from London. There was a 
 good deal of speechifying. Old Bond's speech was — to 
 use his own favourite word — superb, and I returned 
 thanks for the bridesmaids. We all drove down to the 
 station ai)d sent them off with showers of rice and 
 slippers. 
 
 ''When I said good-night to M., she slipped a bit' of 
 paper into my hand. It is a hunting-song — I had no idea 
 she wrote poetry. Perhaps 1 am not a fair judge, but it 
 seems to me pretty good ; above the average, certainly. 
 She says she has invented a tune for it, and will teach it 
 to me, so that I may sing it to her on my birthday. I like 
 the chorus — 1 will write it down here lest by any chance 
 1 lose the original — 
 
 This life is a hunt in the vale of years — 
 
 The quarry Dame Fortune — our wits the pack — 
 
 Our whipper-in Poverty — Hope our spurs, 
 As for'ard we gallop on Energy's back. 
 
 The chase may be long, but young is the day ; 
 
 The scent is breast-high, so come for'ard away. 
 
 Chorus — 
 
 Then a cheer for the huntsman, a cheer for the whip, 
 
 And a cheer for the horse and the hound, 
 
 And one more for the fox, with a 'hip-hip-hip 
 
 And hoorah ' for the fun 
 
 Of a jolly good run, 
 
 And the sportsman who never goes round. 
 
 But Fortune's a vixen, and full of wiles ; 
 
 She turns and she. doubles — the pack is at fault ; 
 And what with the ditches, and banks, and stiles. 
 
 Poor Energy's blowing and longing to halt. 
 In vain is the cast, and alack ! for the day — 
 But ' Hark, holloa for'ard ! ' — come for'ard away ! 
 Chorus — Then a cheer, &c. 
 
 A few catch their quarry, and many do not — 
 For some lose their wits ere the day is begun ; 
 
 While others, who scarcely can raise a trot, 
 Are still far behind when the day is done. 
 
 The sun is still high, there is hope while there's day ; 
 
 And Fortune is for'ard — so for'ard away I 
 Chorus — Then a cheer, &c." 
 
278 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 It is the evening of May 20th — Joey's wedding-day. Mrs. 
 Spinks and her guests have retired from the servants' hall 
 after drinking the health of the bride and bridegroom. 
 George Bullock and an enormous bunch of flowers that 
 has adorned his faithful breast during the day occupies one 
 end of the festive board, round which is ranged the entire 
 retinue of Bosby Hall. The table cleared, the punch-bowl 
 set in the midst, cigars handed round, all tongues are 
 loosened. The housekeeper takes the lead : " It's the 
 prettiest wedding, according to my notions, that has ever 
 been seen, or ever will be seen, in Bosby." 
 
 " Not so grand as Miss Bond's, may be," says the 
 butler, backing up the housekeeper, " but more 'omely 
 like. Things was done more tasty ; the lilac arches, 
 for instance, along the road and all down the village, 
 I call a triumph of art. Mr. Roberts, I looks towards 
 you ; they do you credit ! " 
 
 The gardener, thus addressed, bows acknowledgment 
 of the compliment from so high an authority, and says he 
 has done all in his power; he doesn't think there is a scrap 
 of lilac left in the countrj^ for miles round. 
 
 " Didn't she look just lovely ? " says one of the under- 
 housemaids to the first whip. 
 
 "And Mr. Joseph, too ! " exclaims her superior, who is 
 a great admirer of her young master's physiognomy, 
 " There can be no manner of doubt but what they are the 
 'andsomest couple what ever stepped mto that church." 
 
MR. SPINKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 279 
 
 " To my mind "—the butler a.^ain gives his opinion— 
 " she mostly resembles that picture by Mr. Raffle as 'angs 
 m the front 'all— not too 'umble, nor yet too 'aughty." 
 
 -All I know is," says Peters, "the next generation will 
 
2 So 
 
 MR. sriNKS AND HIS HOUNDS. 
 
 be very good fox-hunters, and here's long hfe to the bride 
 and bridegroom and many of 'em ! " 
 
 " Peters ! Peters ! " comes a warning voice across the 
 table, but the toast is received with acclamation. Peters 
 fills his glass from the punch-bowl, which he passes on to 
 Sam. The bowl goes round, is emptied and filled again 
 — and so on till midnight brings the revelry to a close. 
 
 " Sam, you're very silent to-night," said Peters, as they 
 went home together. " What's wrong with you ? What 
 have you done with the orange blossom you got from 
 Mrs. Joseph ? " 
 
 Sani did not think it necessary to explain that it was his 
 wedding-day as well as Joey's, or that he had laid the 
 fragrant token upon a humble mound behind the village 
 church. 
 
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