--which proved to be correct. The Master had been taken with
giddiness when about to mount his horse.

The stranger rode up to Captain Monk; judging him to be regarded--by the
way he was welcomed and the respect paid him--as the chief personage at
the meet, representing in a manner the Master. Lifting his hat, he
begged grace for having, being a stranger, come out, uninvited, to join
the field; adding that his name was Hamlyn and he was staying with Mr.
Peveril at Peacock's Range.

Captain Monk wheeled round at the address; his head had been turned
away. He saw a tall, dark man of about five-and-thirty years, so dark
and sunburnt as to suggest ideas of his having recently come from a
warmer climate. His hair was black, his eyes were dark brown, his
features and manner prepossessing, and he spoke as a man accustomed to
good society.

Captain Monk, lifting his hat in return, met him with cordiality. The
field was open to all, he said, but any friend of Peveril's would be
doubly welcome. Peveril himself was a muff, in so far as that he never
hunted.

"Hearing there was to be a meet to-day, I could not resist the
temptation of joining it; it is many years since I had the opportunity,"
remarked the stranger.

There was not time for more, the hounds were throwing off. Away dashed
the Captain's steed, away dashed the stranger's, away dashed Miss
Monk's, the three keeping side by side.

Presently came a fence. Captain Monk leaped it and galloped onwards
after the other red-coats. Miss Eliza Monk would have leaped it next,
but her horse refused it; yet he was an old hunter and she a fearless
rider. The stranger was waiting to follow her. A touch of the angry Monk
temper assailed her and she forced her horse to the leap. He had a
temper also; he did not clear it, and horse and rider came down
together.

In a trice Mr. Hamlyn was off his own steed and raising her. She was not
hurt, she said, when she could speak; a little shaken, a little
giddy--and she leaned against the fence. The refractory horse, unnoticed
for the moment, got upon his legs, took the fence of his own accord and
tore away after the field. Young Mr. Threpp, who had been in some
difficulty with his own steed, rode up now.

"Shall I ride back to the Hall and get the pony-carriage for you, Miss
Eliza?" asked the young man.

"Oh, dear, no," she replied, "thank you all the same. I would prefer to
walk home."

"Are you equal to the walk?" interposed the s