.
But here was another disappointment; Ivan sat the fiery racer as if he
had grown in the saddle. When Salista saw him mounted, he muttered
between his teeth:

"The devil is in the fellow. I would take a bet he has been a hussar."

Countess Angela took part in the first run at Count Stefan's. She sat
her horse splendidly; she was quite at home in the field.

About ten sportsmen drew the first cover; the hounds had the fox out
of the bushes, and the cavalcade rode after Renard, who took his
course over a slope of a hill, which was divided by a cleft in the
rock, at the bottom of which ran a mountain stream. The fox took
refuge in this cleft; he probably thought he might find there an empty
fox-hole, into which he might sneak. In any case he might escape by
the skin of his teeth, as the horses could not venture to follow him.
It was a chance, for if the dogs hunted him out of the burrow he could
make tracks by the right-hand side. The hunt was on the left.

"Forward!" cried the daring Countess Angela, and put her horse to leap
the cleft.

It was a breakneck jump. How many will risk their lives to follow her?
When she reached the other side she turned and looked back. Ivan was
beside her. The dogs pursued the fox, who had taken to the stream; the
rest of the hunt galloped along the left side of the chasm. Angela
thought as little about them as they did of her. In every one's mind
there was only one idea--the fox. The countess rode at the very edge
of the chasm, taking no heed of the dizzy height she was on and the
dangerous depths into which one false step of her horse might
precipitate her. She followed poor Renard, who was seeking an outlet,
distracted as he was by his pursuers. Suddenly he rushed out through
the riders on the left bank and took to the woods.

"After him! Tally ho!" resounded along the hillside, and soon fox,
dogs, and horsemen were lost to Angela's sight. At once she turned
her horse's bridle; she made for a short-cut through the mountain,
over which she meant to jump her horse, and so join the hunt without
loss of time. She never looked back to see if Ivan followed her, but
galloped up the steep mountain-side, sitting her horse in splendid
style. At the turn of the path a hare suddenly broke from the cover
under the horse's feet. The animal shied, and swerved violently to one
side, throwing the countess out of the saddle. In the fall the long
skirt of her habit got entangled in the saddle and ke