The Knight Of Gwynne Volume I Part 48

Groups were gathered here and there along the bank, and dismounted horses galloped wildly to and fro, showing that the catastrophes had been numerous. While Lord Netherby looked with some alarm at the fearful chasm which had arrested all but three out of the entire field, the Knight followed Lionel with anxious eyes, as he led over the most desperate line of country in the West.

"I never knew a fox take that line but once," said Darcy, pointing to a wide expanse of bleak country, which stretched away to the base of the great mountain of Nephin. "I was a child at the time, but I remember the occurrence well; horse, men, and hounds tailed off one by one, some sorely injured, others dead beat, for the fellow was a most powerful dog-fox, and ran straight ahead for thirty-four miles of a desperate country. The following morning, at a little after daybreak, the fox was seen in a half trot near Ballycroy, still followed by two of the dogs, and he lived many years afterwards as a pensioner at the abbey; the dogs were never worth anything from that day."

While the Knight related this anecdote, the hounds and the hunters were gradually receding from view; and although at intervals some thought they could catch glimpses of them, at last they disappeared altogether.

"I am sorry, Helen," said the Knight, "that our visitors should have been so unfortunate in their sport."

"I am more grieved to think that Lionel should follow over such a country," said Lord Netherby.

"He's well mounted, my Lord; and though many would call him a reckless rider, he has as much judgment as he has daring. I am tolerably easy about him."

Helen did not seem so confident as her father; and as for Mrs.

Somerville, she was considerably paler than usual, and managed her mettlesome horse with far less than her customary address.

As well to meet their friends who were thrown out, as to show some of the scenery of the coast, the Knight proposed they should retrace their steps for a short distance, and take a view of the bay on their way back to the abbey. Leaving them, therefore, to follow their route, and not delaying our reader by an account of the various excuses of the discomfited, or the banterings of Tom Nolan, we will turn to the wide plain, where, still in full cry, the dogs pursued their game.

The Knight had not exaggerated when calling it a dreadful country to ride over; yawning trenches, deep enough to engulf horse and rider, were cut in the bog, and frequently so close together that, in clearing one, a few strides more presented another; the ground itself, only in part reclaimed, was deep and heavy, demanding great strength both of horse and horseman. Through this dangerous and intricate track the fox serpentined and wound his way with practised cunning, while at every turning some unlucky hound would miss his spring, or lose his footing in the slippery soil, and their cries could be heard far over the plain, as they struggled in vain to escape from a deep trench. It was in such an endeavor that a hound was catching at the bank with his fore-legs, as the huntsman dashed forward to take the leap; the horse, suddenly taking fright, swerved, and, before he could recover, the frail ground gave way, and the animal plunged headlong down, fortunately flinging bis rider over the head on the opposite bank.

"All safe, Bob?" cried Lionel, as he turned in his saddle. But he had no time for more, for the strange rider was fast nearing on him, and the chase had now become a trial of speed and skill. By degrees they emerged from this unsafe tract and gained the gra.s.s country, where high ditches and stone walls presented a more fair, but scarcely less dangerous, kind of fencing. Here the stranger made an effort to pa.s.s Lionel and take the lead, and more than once they took their leaps exactly side by side.

As they rode along close to each other, Lionel from time to time caught glimpses of his companion, who was a strong-built man of five-and-thirty, frank and fresh-looking, but clearly not of the rank of gentleman. His horse was a powerful thoroughbred, with more bone than is usually found in Irish breeding, and trained to perfection.

"Now, sir," said the stranger, "we're coming near the Crump.a.w.n river; that line of mist yonder is over the torrent. I warn you, the leap is a big one."

Lionel turned a haughty glance towards the man, for there was a tone of a.s.sumed superiority in the words he could ill brook. That instant, however, his eyes were directed to the front, where the roaring of a mountain stream mingled with the sharp cry of the hounds as they struggled in the torrent, or fell back in their efforts to climb the steep bank.

"Ride him fairly at it,--no flinching; and d----me if I care what your father was, I'll say you're a gentleman."

Lionel bit his lip almost through with pa.s.sion; and, had the occasion permitted, the heavy stroke of his whip had fallen on a very different quarter from his horse's flank; but he never uttered a word.

"Badly done! Never punish your horse at the stride!" said the fellow, who seemed bent on provoking him.

Lionel bounded in his saddle at this taunt on his riding; but there was no time for bandying words of anger; the roar of rus.h.i.+ng water, and the misty foam, proclaimed the torrent near.

"The best man is first over!" shouted the stranger, as he rushed at the terrific chasm. Lionel dashed forward; so close were they, they could have touched; when, with a wild cheer, the stranger gave his horse a tremendous cut, and the animal bounded from the earth like a stag, and, soaring over the mad torrent, descended lightly on the sward beyond.

Lionel had lifted his horse at the very same instant; but the treacherous bank gave way beneath the animal's forelegs: he struggled dreadfully to regain his footing, and, half rearing and half backing, tried to retire; but the effort was in vain, the slippery earth carried him with it, and down both horse and rider came into the stream.

"Keep his head to the current, and sit steady!" shouted the stranger, who now watched the struggle with breathless eagerness. "Well done! well done!--don't press him, he 'll do it himself."

The counsel was wise, for the n.o.ble animal needed neither spur nor whip, but breasted the white torrent with vigorous effort, sometimes plunging madly above, and again sinking, all save the head, beneath the flood. At last they reached the side, and the strong beast, with one bold spring, placed his fore-legs on the high bank. This was the most dangerous moment, for, unable to follow with his hind-legs, he stood opposed to the whole force of the current, that threatened every instant to engulf him. Lionel's efforts were tremendous; he lifted, he spurred, he strained, he shouted, but all in vain: the animal, worn out by exertion, faltered, and would have fallen back, when the stranger, springing from his saddle, leaned over the bank, and, seizing Lionel by the collar, jerked him from his horse. The beast, relieved of the weight, at once rallied and bounded up the bank, where Lionel now found himself, stunned, but not senseless.

"Let them say what they like," muttered the stranger, as he stood over him, "you 're a devilish fine young fellow! D----me if I'll ever think so much about good blood again!"

Lionel was too weak and too much exhausted to reply, and even his fingers could scarcely close upon the whip he tried to grasp; yet, for all that, the stranger's insolence sickened him to the very heart. Pride of race was the strongest feeling of his nature, and this fellow seemed determined to outrage it at every turn.

"Here, take a pull at this; you 'll be all right presently," said the man, as he presented a little leather flask to the youth's lips. But Lionel repulsed the offer rudely, and turned his head away. "The more fool you!" said he, coa.r.s.ely; "your grandfather mixed many a worse-flavored one, and charged more for it;" and, so saying, he emptied the measure at a draught.

Lionel pondered on the words for some seconds, and suddenly the thought occurred to him that the stranger had mistaken him for another. "Ah! I see it all now!" thought he, and he turned his head to undeceive him; when, what was his surprise, as he looked up, to see that the fellow was gone. Mounted on his own horse, he was leading Lionel's by the bridle, and, at a smart trot, moving down the glen.

The young man sprang to his feet and shouted aloud; he even tried to follow him; but both efforts were fruitless. At the turn of the road the man halted, and, looking round, waved his hat as in sign of adieu; then, moving forward, disappeared, while Lionel, his pa.s.sion giving way to his sense of the absurdity of the whole adventure, burst into a fit of hearty laughter.

"I 'll be laughed at to the day of my death about this," thought he, as he turned his steps to seek the path homeward on foot.

It was late in the evening when Lionel reached the abbey. The guests had for the most part left the dinner-room, and were dropping by twos and threes into the drawing-room, when he made his appearance in the midst of them, splashed and travel-stained from head to foot.

A burst of merry laughter rang out as they beheld his torn habiliments and mud-colored dress, in which none joined more heartily than the Knight himself, as he called aloud, "Well, Lionel, did you kill him, boy, or run him to earth below Nephin?"

"By Jove, sir! if old Carney is safe, I think n.o.body has been killed to-day."

"Well, Bob is all right; he came back three hours ago. He has lamed Scaltheen; but she 'll get over it."

"But your own adventures," interposed Lord Netherby; "for so they ought to be, judging from the state of your toilet. Let us hear them."

"Yes, by all means," added Beauclerk; "the huntsman says that the last he saw of you was riding by the side of some one in green, with three of the pack in front, the rest tailed off, and himself in a bog-hole."

"But there was no one in green in the field," said Crofton; "at least I did not see any one riding, except the red coats."

"Let us not be too critical about the color of the dress," said Lord Netherby; "I am sure it would puzzle any of us to p.r.o.nounce on the exact hue of Lionel's at this moment."

"Well, Lionel, will you decide it?" said the Knight; "is the green man apocryphal, or not?"

"I 'll decide nothing," said Lionel, "till I get something to eat. Any one that wishes to hear my exploits must come into the dinner-room;"

and, so saying, he arose, and walked into the parlor, where, under Tate's superintendence, a little table was already spread for him beside the fire. To the tempting fare before him the young man devoted all the energy of a hunter's appet.i.te, regardless of the crowd who had followed him from the drawing-room, and stood in a circle around him.

Many were the jests, and sharp the raillery, on his singular appearance, and certainly it presented a most ludicrous contrast with the ma.s.sive decorations of the table at which he sat, and the full dress of the party around him.

"I remember," said Lord Netherby, "seeing the King of France--when such a functionary existed--eat his dinner in public on the terrace of Versailles; but I confess, great as was my admiration of the monarch's powers, I think Lionel exceeds them."

"Another leg?" said Beauclerk, who, with knife and fork in hand, performed the duty of carver.

"Why don't you say another turkey?" said Nolan; then, turning to Mrs.

Somerville, he added, "I am sure that negus is perfect."

The pretty widow, who had been contributing, as she thought un.o.bserved, to Lionel's comfort, blushed deeply; and Lionel, at last roused from his apathy, said, "I am ready now, ladies and gentlemen all, to satisfy every reasonable demand upon your curiosity. But first, where is Mr.

Beecham O'Reilly?"

"He went home," said the Knight; "he resisted all my efforts to detain him to dinner."

"Perhaps he only came over to sell that horse," said Nolan, in a half whisper.

"I wish I had bought him, with all my heart," said Lionel.

"Do you like him so much," said the Knight, with a meaning smile.

"I sincerely hope you do," said Lord Netherby, "for he is yours already,--at least, if you will do me the honor to accept him; I often hoped to have mounted you one day--"

"I accept him, my Lord," interposed Lionel, "most willingly and most gratefully. You have, literally speaking, mounted me 'one day,' and I very much doubt if I ever mount the same animal another."