“I believe beagles generally hunt hares,” said Mr Fanshawe. “But, as you all seem so active, I’ll join you. It’s after nine now, Patsy; you’d better be off and tell them to hold on and not start till we come.”
It was ten minutes past ten when the party, Violet and General Grampound walking first, Mr Fanshawe and Mr Boxall following, neared the park gates.
“Listen!” said Violet, as they drew near the end of the drive.
“Why, God bless my soul,” said the General, “it sounds like a faction fight or a fair!”
CHAPTER XX
THE MEET OF THE BEAGLES
Directly Patsy had left the news that the “quality” were coming to the meet and returned to the house, the crowd in front of the Castle Knock inn thickened.
Word of the impending event went from cabin to cabin, and Mr Mahony, the chimney sweep, put his head out of his door.
“What’s the news, Rafferty?” cried Mr Mahony.
“Mimber of Parlymint and all the quality comin’ to the meet!” cried a ragged-looking ruffian who was running by.