They rode together to James Bard's house, and remained there until the hounds came in sight. They stood at the window and watched them pa.s.s, and there was a large muster at the meet, the Hazelwell hunt breakfast always drawing a big crowd.

"It will be comparatively easy to remain unrecognised amongst that lot,"

said Ulick. "I did not see my father."

"The Squire has been down with the gout," said Bard, "and Dr. Harding has made him rest. I expect he will chafe a good deal at having to remain at home to-day."

Ulick was sorry his father had the gout, yet was glad he was absent from the hunt.

When the party cleared the village, James Bard and Ulick rode after them, in the direction of Brecon Wood.

As they neared the well-known haunt of the best foxes in Rushshire, they heard the hounds making music, and in a few minutes the well-known cry was heard, and they had "gone away" after the fox.

Ulick set Random going, and, followed by James Bard, quickly came in sight of the field. In front, well ahead, the hounds were streaming away over some open pastures, the fox going at a great pace, and the field in straggling order.

"He's got a capital start," said Ulick. "We are in for a good run."

"If it's the 'old dog' we went after last season, he'll make it hot. We shall soon tell, he generally doubles round and makes for Hazelwell Coppice at the other side of Glen church."

"Sixteen miles if it's a yard," said Ulick.

"And good going all the way, but there are some stiff fences, and we shall have to face the Tone river."

"Swim it or leap it?" laughed Ulick.

"You'll get over it on that fellow. I don't know about mine. I fancy I have seen yours before."

"So you have. It's Random."

"Good gracious, so it is. You'll have nothing to fear, and if anyone is in at the death, it will be yourself," said Bard.

It was not long before Random left the veterinary surgeon in the rear, and carried Ulick well to the front of the field. The horse fenced splendidly, and had a good rider on his back.

Warren Courtly inquired where Random was, and Irene told him she had lent him to Eli for a friend of his to ride, and with this he was satisfied, and did not ask who he was, much to her relief.

Ulick saw Warren ahead of him on a big Irish grey, a strong puller, but a good fencer, rather a dangerous horse to ride when his blood was up.

"He'll be surprised when he sees me on Random," thought Ulick, who had by this time forgotten all about his early-morning presentiment in the excitement of the chase.

They were galloping over a ploughed field, and the going was heavy, beyond was a meadow, and in the distance the river Tone could be seen.

It was narrow in some parts, and not deep, but the banks were treacherous, and often brought riders to grief.

Out of the plough into the meadow they went at a fast pace. The old fox knew his way about, and bore away to the left. There was an old tree fallen, three parts of the way across the river, and he headed for it.

Racing along the huge trunk with sure steps, he reached the end, made a long jump, and scrambled up the opposite side, and raced away up the steep incline towards Hazelwell Spinney and Glen church.

Warren set the grey at the water, and he cleared it gallantly. Ulick flew over on Random, and as they galloped up the hill got ahead of him, but was not within shouting distance as he pa.s.sed him. At first Warren did not see him, but presently he recognised Random, and then Ulick.

He was never more surprised in his life than to see Ulick on Random at that particular moment. It staggered him for a few minutes, and when he recovered from the shock he was extremely angry.

"So it was to him she lent Random," he muttered savagely. "She knew he was here, at Helton. I wonder if they met when I was out. You shall suffer for this, Irene. Perhaps he thinks I am a coward; I'll show him who is the better man to-day. d.a.m.n him, I'll beat him, or know the reason why."

He rode the grey roughly, and the horse resented it. He pulled harder than ever, and the wild Irish blood in him revolted at his rider's handling.

Only half-a-dozen hors.e.m.e.n were near them, the bulk of the field had cut across country, knowing where the fox was making for. All the men following the track of the hounds were hard riders, and would have scorned to adopt such tactics.

"That's Ulick Maynard," muttered the huntsman. "I'm glad to see him out again, and on Random too. I wonder what he's done with old Eli's girl?

She was a pretty wench. It was a bit rough on Eli, that was, and I didn't think Mr. Ulick was the man to do it. However, there's no telling what will happen when there's a woman in the case."

Ulick was thoroughly enjoying himself. He loved following the hounds, and had done so ever since he was a boy. He knew the country well, and was aware it would take Random all his time to keep going to the finish at this pace.

They were nearing Glen church, and beyond, in the distance, was Hazelwell Coppice, the house being hidden amongst the trees a couple of miles away.

Ulick took in the well-remembered scene at a glance. He called to mind how he had galloped over this country with the Squire and Irene, and how they had found it a difficult task to keep up with his father. He wished Irene was there now, so that he could give her a lead over that big, stiff-set hedge a hundred yards ahead of him. He forgot all about Warren on the grey. There were the hounds scrambling through the bars of the gate, dashing through the holes in the hedge near the bank. Once he caught sight of the fox streaking along with his tail straight out, his head down, and his body almost level with the ground.

"He's not half done yet," thought Ulick. "He deserves to get away, and I hope he will save his brush."

The fox meant doing so if possible, there could be no doubt about that.

Round Glen church was a high, rough stone wall, built in the old style, stone piled upon stone, not bound together in any way, except by the pressure of one upon another. The coping on the top was loose, and in places big stones had rolled off on to the gra.s.s, for the church stood in a field, and was approached by a footpath.

The fox seemed of a pious turn of mind, for he headed straight for the church, as though hoping to find sanctuary there from his desperate pursuers.

Ulick expected to see him run round the churchyard, but instead of that he scrambled up the wall and made his way amongst the tombstones and over the graves of men who had hunted his ancestors in years gone by.

"If you think I am going to follow you over there you are mistaken,"

said Ulick. "I have no desire to join the silent residents in that locality. I'll ride round and catch you up on the other side, it is not far out of the way."

He watched the hounds scrambling over the rough wall, which stood on a rise on the ground, and saw from their movements they were well-nigh beaten.

Warren Courtly was not far behind. He saw Ulick check his mount, and then make for the corner of the churchyard. He was near enough to be heard, if he shouted, and he called out--

"Follow me over the wall, if you have pluck enough; don't sneak round that way."

CHAPTER XIX.

A FATAL LEAP.

Ulick heard him, and, turning round, saw the grey galloping at a great pace straight for the churchyard wall. He did not accept the challenge; it would have been madness to do so. He called at the top of his voice to Warren to stop.

"He'll never clear it! Pull up!" shouted Ulick, excitedly.

For answer, Warren merely looked in his direction, and smiled grimly.

"Come on!" he shouted again. "Are you afraid?"