"Well, Tom, I should be puzzled for a text, I think," rejoins the Parson; "perhaps you will find one for me."
At which remark the bystanders smile, for old Tom is not a very regular attendant; but the smile breaks into a loud peal of laughter when the Huntsman retaliates as quick as thought by saying: "Ay, I wull; you wunna have far to look. You can take for the first Sunday, 'Many dogs a-cum about me;' and then for the next week, as a wind-up, you can give us 'The fat bulls of Bashan,' and say what a murdering nuisance they was a-crossing the line." And with a "Coop, coom away, hounds," he rides away, having scored one most emphatically.
At this juncture Sir John, having pulled out his watch, gives the signal, and away they trot to the first draw, which unfortunately proves a blank, as does the next, whereat Tom's soul waxeth wroth, and for five minutes the vengeance of the gods is called down on the "stinking violets," and other articles which in his opinion militate against the scent.
The third essay seems likely for a long time to be as unproductive as the two former, when suddenly a whimper from Ranter, backed up by Harbinger, sends a thrill through the veins of the eager field.
Tom is all life in a moment, and his "'Ave at 'im. Eugh, 'ave at 'im! Eugh, boys!" rings out clear and shrill.
Not so shrill, though, as Charles's "Tally-ho! gone awa-a-y! awa-a-a-y!" which comes pealing through the trees from the bottom end, while the pack, catching it up, ring out a chorus that would waken the dead.
"Hounds, please, hounds! Hold hard, gentlemen!" roars Sir John to some of the too enthusiastic fire-eaters as they gallop down the squashy ride, vainly endeavouring to get ahead of Tom, who, with white hair flying in the breeze, is vigorously cheering his hounds on to the line, occasionally giving them a chink of music to dance to.
At last the wood is cleared, and the pack are streaming over the grass. Nearly everybody has got a good start, and each man, knowing it is his last day, rides his best.
Mrs. Talford, as usual, is going along to the fore, second to none; and Mr. Halston is determined that if the "fat bulls" do cross the line, he at all events will be well enough up to note the exact spot where the catastrophe occurred.