t. And then the hounds had come up in full cry and only
half-a-dozen horsemen, among whom was Colonel Fitzdenys, anywhere near
them. Old Billy was so much excited that the Corporal could hardly
hold him, and at last the old horse fairly bolted away with him and the
two ponies after him. The Corporal had managed to pull up Billy, but
the two ponies had shot past him, both the children crying out with
delight, and while galloping on to catch them Billy had come down in a
boggy place, and the corporal supposed that he himself must have been a
bit stunned, for when he got up he found that he had let go of his rein
and that Billy and everybody else had disappeared. He had followed the
tracks of the horse as well as he could and had found him in the next
combe by the water, but had had a deal of trouble to catch him; and
though he had shouted and holloaed for the children he had neither seen
nor heard anything of them. Then as soon as he had ridden to the top
of the hill again, the mist came down thick and heavy, and there was no
seeing anything. So with some trouble he found his way back to the
road, being obliged to travel slowly, as the old horse had lamed
himself. He had left word at every house that he passed, and parties
had gone up the road in the valley with lanterns. "I hope and trust,
my Lady," said the Corporal in conclusion, "that Master Dick and Miss
Elsie have followed the hunt to the end, for his honour the colonel
will see to them. A man that I met on the road promised to carry a
message to Fitzdenys Court, but the deer was travelling fast, so I
doubt if the colonel will come home to-night unless so be as he must.
But, if you please, my Lady, I'll just take another horse and ride over
to the Court myself."

"Can nothing more be done?" said Lady Eleanor, calmed in spite of
herself by the Corporal's calmness and forethought.

"Nothing, I fear, my Lady," he answered sadly; "it's terrible thick out
over."

"But you are hurt," said Lady Eleanor, noticing the paleness of his
face, and the effort which it cost him to walk.

"It's nothing, my Lady," he said. "I'd sooner have lost both legs than
that this should have come." And he bowed and limped out; but within
an hour and a half he came galloping back with Colonel George, who had
met him on the road, and was hurrying over to say that though he had
ridden to the death of the hunted stag he had seen nothing of the
children then nor at any other time.