" said Eames, when they had both reached the corner of
the field in which the gate stood.

"And what'll you do?" said the earl.

"I'll go at the hedge to the right." And Johnny as he spoke dashed
his stick about, so as to monopolise, for a moment, the attention of
the brute. The earl made a spring at the gate, and got well on to the
upper rung. The bull seeing that his prey was going, made a final
rush upon the earl and struck the timber furiously with his head,
knocking his lordship down on the other side. Lord De Guest was
already over, but not off the rail; and thus, though he fell, he
fell in safety on the sward beyond the gate. He fell in safety, but
utterly exhausted. Eames, as he had purposed, made a leap almost
sideways at a thick hedge which divided the field from one of the
Guestwick copses. There was a fairly broad ditch, and on the other
side a quickset hedge, which had, however, been weakened and injured
by trespassers at this corner, close to the gate. Eames was young and
active and jumped well. He jumped so well that he carried his body
full into the middle of the quickset, and then scrambled through to
the other side, not without much injury to his clothes, and some
damage also to his hands and face.

The beast, recovering from his shock against the wooden bars, looked
wistfully at his last retreating enemy, as he still struggled amidst
the bushes. He looked at the ditch and at the broken hedge, but he
did not understand how weak were the impediments in his way. He had
knocked his head against the stout timber, which was strong enough
to oppose him, but was dismayed by the brambles which he might have
trodden under foot without an effort. How many of us are like the
bull, turning away conquered by opposition which should be as nothing
to us, and breaking our feet, and worse still, our hearts, against
rocks of adamant. The bull at last made up his mind that he did not
dare to face the hedge; so he gave one final roar, and then turning
himself round, walked placidly back amidst the herd.

Johnny made his way on to the road by a stile that led out of the
copse, and was soon standing over the earl, while the blood ran down
his cheeks from the scratches. One of the legs of his trousers had
been caught by a stake, and was torn from the hip downward, and his
hat was left in the field, the only trophy for the bull. "I hope
you're not hurt, my lord," he said.

"Oh dear, no; but I'm terribly out of breath. W