"It was that," replied his friend. "Feel as if you could ride this morning, don't you?"
"Yes, I can—always do; but no chance of it with such dogs as these."
"Don't know about that," returned Sponge. "They generally find, and kill too."
Such a field had been rarely seen with the Sternum hounds—horsemen, carriages, mounted ladies, all eager.
"Let the whips be with you, or rather at the outside of the cover, to keep the people back," whispered Captain Martaingail to the huntsman. "I will go to the top of the cover when I give the view halloa. You know what to do."
"Certain of a fox, I suppose, Martaingail?" asked Lord Wildrace, as they were smoking their cigars close to the hounds, who were drawn up on a bit of greensward, giving the ten minutes' law for the late comers.
"It has never yet been drawn blank," returned the Captain. "Ah! there goes Slowman with the hounds. Time's up."
Cigar ends were now thrown away, girths tightened, stirrup-leathers shortened or let down.
The Captain stole into cover, and then galloped away to the far end.
Presently a ringing tally-ho was heard.