f 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 He thought he had withdrawn himself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 fl