He did not stay to finish his cigar under the fast-falling snow; but walked back to his own room, where he slept soundly.
He was astir very early the next morning. He went down stairs, after breakfasting in his own room, saw the landlord, and hired a good strong horse, commonly used by the proprietor of the "Cross Keys" on all his journeys to and from the market-town and outlying villages.
Victor Carrington mounted this horse, and rode across the Common to the village of Hallgrove.
He stopped to give his horse a drink of water before a village inn, and while stopping to do this he asked a few questions of the ostler.
"Whereabouts is Hallgrove Rectory?" he asked.
"About a quarter of a mile farther on, sir," answered the man; "you can't miss it if you keep along that road. A big red house, by the side of a river."
"Thanks. This is a great place for hunting, isn't it?"
"Yes, that it be, sir. The Horsley foxhounds are a'most allus meeting somewheres about here."
"When do they meet next?"
"The day arter to-morrow—Boxing-day, sir. They're to meet in the field by Hallgrove Ferry, a mile and a quarter beyond the rectory, at ten o'clock in the morning. It's to be a reg'lar grand day's sport, I've heard say. Our rector is to ride a new horse, wot's been given to him by his brother."