By and by a deep baying broke out and swelled into a burst of thrilling sound, the horn called sharply, somebody shouted, and there was a rush of well-mounted riders towards a corner of the gorse. Then the hounds streamed out, speeding across the grassy slope with a small, red-brown object travelling very fast some distance in front. Blake, who let his chestnut go, swept down the hill at a furious gallop, and felt the horse rise and heard a thud of hoofs on sloppy ground as a fence was cleared. Then he toiled across a strip of ploughing, with firm grip on the bridle, for, exhilarating as the chase was, he could not enjoy it long. In his younger days he had hunted the country he was now riding over, he had been a crack polo player, and had covered wide stretches of the Canadian prairie in the saddle. He could feel the power of the good horse he bestrode, the speed fired his blood, and for the first few minutes he had been in danger of forgetting that the keen pleasure he was conscious of could not be enjoyed long.
There was a crash as they broke through the top of a bending hedge, he heard a rail break beneath the hoofs, and they were flying across a wide pasture, the chestnut pulling hard. It needed some strength of will to hold him, but Blake did so, keeping his place behind the foremost while the rest of the hunt tailed out. After another awkward jump or two most of the rearguard were out of sight, scattering, no doubt, in search of gates, and Blake was not pleased to find himself level with two well-mounted, red-coated men. There was a brook with a fringe of willows along its side not far ahead and, a short distance to the right, a deep, tree-shrouded hollow. This was where he must break off, but, sitting a good horse in the company of hard-riding men, it was not pleasant to look as if he shirked the leap.
"'Ware rotten bank!" cried one, glancing round at him. "Head for the pollard stump!"
"Give me a lead," Blake shouted. "You know the country."
With a strong effort, he held the chestnut back, and saw the first red-coated figure rise above the willows and alight with the mire flying among the rushes across the stream. Then he swung to the right, where he remembered there was a broad, shallow place, and drove the chestnut at its widest part. They came down with a great splash and the horse floundered badly, for the bottom was soft, but Blake had done what he meant to do, and as the second horseman leaped across a narrower spot he caught a sympathetic, "Hard luck!"
Then he turned the chestnut and scrambling out upon the bank he had left trotted to the hollow, where he was lost among the trees before the tail of the hunt came up. He thought he had withdrawn himself neatly and must now get home as soon as possible, because if his uncle saw no opportunity of picking up the hounds again after an easy ride, he might return before Mrs. Chudleigh could be dealt with.
Crossing a sunk lane by and by, Blake, who glanced at his watch, held straight across the fields, and was glad to find that the hunt-club subsidies had had some effect in determining the nature of the fences. The most part could be jumped without much trouble, but the chestnut was foul-coated and flecked with spume when at length he turned into a road. There he pulled up to a steady trot and got home, rather wet and splashed with mire, early in the afternoon, and after a bath and change felt himself ready for the encounter. He had not much diplomacy, but thought he could make up for that by stubbornly sticking to his point.
As he sat in the library with the door left open he heard Mrs. Foster and her friends arrive and recognized the voices. Mrs. Keith had come and Millicent, besides another lady whom he surmised was Mrs. Chudleigh. He hardly thought his aunt, whom he had not taken into his confidence, would mention him, and it might be better if he waited until tea was served, after which the party would probably separate and saunter about the hall and picture gallery. It was important that he should have a few words with Mrs. Chudleigh alone. Fortune favoured him, for when he entered the gallery she stood before a picture and the nearest of her companions was some yards further on. She started when he came up and joined her.
"You remember me, though I imagine my appearance is a surprise to you," he said with a bow.
"Yes," she answered calmly, though she had received something of a shock. "Nobody told me you had returned from Canada."