abshaw into the middle of a quick-set hedge, where
he was terribly torn; another time he canted him over his head into a
quagmire, where he stuck with his heels up, and must have perished, if
people had not been passing that way; a third time he seized him in the
stable with his teeth by the rim of the belly, and swung him off the
ground, to the great danger of his life; and I'll be hanged, if it was
not owing to Gilbert, that Crabshaw was now thrown into the river.

"Thus mounted and accoutred, the knight and his squire set out on their
first excursion. They turned off from the common highway, and travelled
all that day without meeting anything worthy recounting; but, in the
morning of the second day, they were favoured with an adventure. The
hunt was upon a common through which they travelled, and the hounds were
in full cry after a fox, when Crabshaw, prompted by his own mischievous
disposition, and neglecting the order of his master, who called aloud to
him to desist, rode up to the hounds, and crossed them at full gallop.
The huntsman, who was not far off, running towards the squire, bestowed
upon his head such a memento with his pole, as made the landscape dance
before his eyes; and, in a twinkling he was surrounded by all the
fox-hunters, who plied their whips about his ears with infinite agility.
Sir Launcelot, advancing at an easy pace, instead of assisting the
disastrous squire, exhorted his adversaries to punish him severely for
his insolence, and they were not slow in obeying this injunction.
Crabshaw, finding himself in this disagreeable situation, and that there
was no succour to be expected from his master, on whose prowess he had
depended, grew desperate, and, clubbing his whip, laid about him with
great fury, wheeling about Gilbert, who was not idle; for he, having
received some of the favours intended for his rider, both bit with his
teeth and kicked with his heels; and, at last, made his way through the
ring that encircled him, though not before he had broke the huntsman's
leg, lamed one of the best horses on the field, and killed half a score
of the hounds.

"Crabshaw, seeing himself clear of the fray, did not tarry to take leave
of his master, but made the most of his way to Greavesbury Hall, where he
appeared hardly with any vestige of the human countenance, so much had he
been defaced in this adventure. He did not fail to raise a great clamour
against Sir Launcelot, whom he cursed as a coward i