This was very disagreeable. He was not in the least hurt, but it became his duty to run after his horse. A very few furrows of that work suffice to make a man think that hunting altogether is a "beastly sort of thing." Mrs. Spooner's horse, who had shown himself to be a little less quick of foot than his own, had known all about the bank and the double ditch, and had, apparently of his own accord, turned down to the right, either seeing or hearing the hounds, and knowing that the ploughed ground was to be avoided. But his rider soon changed his course. She went straight after the riderless horse, and when Silverbridge had reduced himself to utter speechlessness by his exertions, brought him back his steed.
"I am,—I am, I am—so sorry," he struggled to say,—and then as she held his horse for him he struggled up into the saddle.
"Keep down this furrow," said Mrs. Spooner, "and we shall be with them in the second field. There's nobody near them yet."
CHAPTER LXIII
"I've Seen 'Em Like That Before"
On this occasion Silverbridge stayed only a few days at Harrington, having promised Tregear to entertain him at The Baldfaced Stag. It was here that his horses were standing, and he now intended, by limiting himself to one horse a day, to mount his friend for a couple of weeks. It was settled at last that Tregear should ride his friend's horse one day, hire the next, and so on. "I wonder what you'll think of Mrs. Spooner?" he said.
"Why should I think anything of her?"
"Because I doubt whether you ever saw such a woman before. She does nothing but hunt."
"Then I certainly shan't want to see her again."