bout the gate, which could not be
opened, and he knew very well that he would have the hounds to
himself for many a mile.

He raced alone across the misty pasture lands, full of winter water
and lingering leaf; the lofty downs like sea cliffs, appearing
through great white masses of curling vapour. And all the episodes of
that day--the great ox fences which his horse flew, going like a bird
from field to field; the awkward stile, the various brooks,--that one
overgrown with scrub which his horse had refused--thrilled him. And
when the day was done, as he rode through the gathering night,
inquiring out the way down many a deep and wooded lane, happiness
sang within him, and like a pure animal he enjoyed the sensation of
life, and he intoxicated on the thoughts of the friends that would
have been his, the women and the numberless pleasures and adventures
he could have engaged in, were he not obliged to earn money, or were
not led away from them "by his accursed literary tastes."

Should he marry one of the sisters? Ridiculous! But what was there to
do? To-day he was nearly thirty; in ten years he would be a
middle-aged man; and, alas! for he felt in him manifold resources,
sufficient were he to live for five hundred years. Must he marry
Agnes? He might if she was a peeress in her own right! Or should he
win a peerage for himself by some great poem, or by some great
political treachery? No, no; he wanted nothing better than to live
always strong and joyous in this corner of fair England; and to be
always loved by girls, and to be always talked of by them about their
tea-tables. Oh, for a cup of tea and a slice of warm buttered toast!

A good hour's ride yawned between him and Holly Park, but by crossing
the downs it might be reduced to three-quarters of an hour. He
hesitated, fearing he might miss his way in the fog, but the
tea-table lured him. He resolved to attempt it, and forced his horse
up a slightly indicated path, which he hoped would led him to a
certain barn. High above him a horseman, faint as the shadow of a
bird, made his way cantering briskly. Mike strove to overtake him,
but suddenly missed him: behind him the pathway was disappearing.

Fearing he might have to pass a night on the downs, he turned his
horse's head; but the animal was obdurate, and a moment after he was
lost. He said, "Great Scott! where am I? Where did this ploughed
field come from? I must be near the dike." Then thinking that he
recogn