‘“Are ye ready?” rings out t’ Squire’s voice.
‘“Yes,” comes back t’ answer.
‘“Then off!” he shouts down and drops t’ handkerchief.
‘Away he goes at a full gallop straight across t’ wide-spreading west park-land, then draws rein a moment as he approaches t’ haha with a drop of five feet or so, perhaps. Just as he pulls up there comes a faint “you-yowin’,” as of hounds upon a scent, from around t’ corner of t’ house.
‘“Whatever’s that?” cries Mistress Heron quickly, as she catches the sound of it.
‘“Why, it’s t’ hounds,” cries t’ Squire, with a stabbing laugh. I thowt it might help him t’ jump t’ black beck an’ win his wager to have t’ hounds after him, an’ so it will, for there’s a bit aniseed sprinkled on Gamecock’s fetlock bandages, an’ Cunliffe’s stepped into some himself.”
‘“’Tis the deed of a savage!” says my lady, and with a proud contempt of him she steps away from his side as far as t’ battlements will permit.
‘Away go t’ hounds wi’ riotous music hot upon t’ scent; on, forrard on they go, right over t’ haha and up and across t’ pasture beyond, at t’ end of which, and beside t’ beck, Cunliffe was galloping up an’ down trying to find an easier place. It appears he hadn’t, in his excitement, taken notice of t’ hounds giving tongue, or looked behind him, but all of a sudden he perceives it, and halting his horse stockstill, looks behind him. Then it seemed to flash upon him what’s up, and he forces back t’ horse some twenty yards or so—first hounds racing towards him about hundred yards behind—rams in t’ spurs, cuts him with t’ whip, and claps him at it. Gamecock tries it bravely, and leaping high into the air just lands on t’ further bank, but short a bit, and on t’ soft edge, and pecks forward badly on his head, sending Cunliffe somersaulting over like a shot rabbit.
‘“T’ bet’s won!” shouts the Squire, marking t’ horse pick himself up before his rider and gallop away by himself over t’ far field; “t’ damned cockney cannot ride at all.”
‘“Yes, you’ve won your bet,” replies my lady, gathering her skirts together and holding them close as she passes him by, “but possibly you may have lost remembrance that you were born a gentleman,” and with that she proudly turns her back and sweeps away down t’ stairs.