er ride, and a body of horsemen rushed away in that
direction, knowing that the covert was small, and there the animal
must soon leave the wood. Then there was a shout of "Away!" repeated
over and over again, and Lord Chiltern, running up like a flash of
lightning, and passing our two friends, galloped down a third ride
to the right of the others. Phineas at once followed the master of
the pack, and Madame Goesler followed Phineas. Men were still riding
hither and thither; and a farmer, meeting them, with his horse turned
back towards the centre of the wood which they were leaving, halloaed
out as they passed that there was no way out at the bottom. They met
another man in pink, who screamed out something as to "the devil of a
bank down there." Chiltern, however, was still going on, and our hero
had not the heart to stop his horse in its gallop and turn back from
the direction in which the hounds were running. At that moment he
hardly remembered the presence of Madame Goesler, but he did remember
every word that had been said to him about Dandolo. He did not in the
least doubt but that Chiltern had chosen his direction rightly, and
that if he were once out of the wood he would find himself with the
hounds; but what if this brute should refuse to take him out of the
wood? That Dandolo was very fast he soon became aware, for he gained
upon his friend before him as they neared the fence. And then he saw
what there was before him. A new broad ditch had been cut, with the
express object of preventing egress or ingress at that point; and a
great bank had been constructed with the clay. In all probability
there might be another ditch on the other side. Chiltern, however,
had clearly made up his mind about it. The horse he was riding went
at it gallantly, cleared the first ditch, balanced himself for half a
moment on the bank, and then, with a fresh spring, got into the field
beyond. The tail hounds were running past outside the covert, and the
master had placed himself exactly right for the work in hand. How
excellent would be the condition of Finn if only Dandolo would do
just as Chiltern's horse had done before him!

And Phineas almost began to hope that it might be so. The horse was
going very well, and very willingly. His head was stretched out, he
was pulling, not more, however, than pleasantly, and he seemed to
be as anxious as his rider. But there was a little twitch about his
ears which his rider did not like, and then