and
set out with a liberal horse-track at either side.

Day had closed ere our friend reached Bewley, but the children returning
from school, and the country folks leaving their work, kept assuring him
that he was on the right line, till the lights of the town, bursting upon
him as he rounded the hill above, showed him the end of his journey.

The best stalls at the head inn--the Bull's Head--were all full, several
trusty grooms having arrived with the usual head-stalls and rolls of
clothing on their horses, denoting the object of their mission. Most of the
horses had been in some hours, and were now standing well littered up with
straw, while the grooms were in the tap talking over their masters,
discussing the merits of their horses, or arguing whether Lord Scamperdale
was mad or not. They had just come to the conclusion that his lordship was
mad, but not incapable of taking care of his affairs, when the trampling of
Sponge's horse's feet drew them out to see who was coming next. Sponge's
red coat at once told his tale, and procured him the usual attention.

Mr. Leather's fear of the want of clothing for the valuable hunter proved
wholly groundless, for each groom having come with a plentiful supply for
his own horse, all the inn stock was at the service of the stranger. The
stable, to be sure, was not quite so good as might be desired, but it was
warm and water-tight, and the corn was far from bad. Altogether, Mr. Sponge
thought he would do very well, and, having seen to his horse, proceeded to
choose between beef-steaks and mutton chops for his own entertainment, and
with the aid of the old country paper and some very questionable port, he
passed the evening in anticipation of the sports of the morrow.

CHAPTER XXIX

THE CROSS-ROADS AT DALLINGTON BURN

[Illustration]

When his lordship and Jack mounted their hacks in the morning to go to the
cross-roads at Dallington Burn, it was so dark that they could not see
whether they were on bays or browns. It was a dull, murky day, with heavy
spongy clouds overhead.

There had been a great deal of rain in the night, and the horses poached
and squashed as they went. Our sportsmen, however, were prepared as well
for what had fallen as for what might come; for they were encased in
enormously thick boots, with baggy overalls, and coats and waistcoats of
the stoutest and most abundant order. They had each a sack of a mackintosh
strapped on to their saddle fronts.