A dog indeed! If I had said a man, and that man a live Earl--for bang, bang, went the guns, just as if I had never spoken, and four or five puffs of smoke, as if the hillside were on fire, rose from the avenues poor bunny had to cross. "Yellow! Did you see, Shorje? yellow as ze gold is!" The German doctor shouted as he pointed down a ride. "Shackson shot too, but ze rabbit is to me. I will have ze guinea. Ach, mein Gott!" Instead of a rabbit giving the last kick of death, what did we see half-way down the slope but two buff coneys flying ever so much faster than any coney ever flew before, each flashing in front of each other, as if father fox were after both of them. "I am blowed if it isn't my Lord," cried Garrod; "the foreigner have shot him morshial!" "Vat you know, ze clods-having-to-hop-by-night-as-well-as-by-day fe-loe? But keep your business, good fe-loe. If I have put ze shot in, I can pull him out again. You shall see." Guns were laid aside, and the doctor left there (for he seemed to make nothing of peppering a lord, in comparison with basting partridges), and down the steep pitch we raced after the Earl, who with a long start was going like the wind. Do all we might, we could not get near him, until he was brought up by a heavy post and rail, where the Dorking road winds along the bottom. There he struck his chest, and in spite of being winded, did no small credit to his lungs, by a power of shrieks that rent the valley. "What a coward!" cried Stoneman, who had kept up with me, though we both had "gone croppers" once or twice. "He is all there for holloaing, at any rate!" But the worst of the business was yet to come. As we drew a pull of breath, before rushing to the rescue, we heard a sudden clatter in the road below, then we saw a wild dash of something dark, and a woman lay on her back under a low tree. I leaped the rail fence, to which the Earl was still clinging, and there lay my sister Grace, in her riding-habit, while the sound of the runaway pony's hoofs came clanging round the corner. I lifted my darling sister Grace, and set her against the hedge-bank, and my heart went out of me, as I knelt and whispered to her. If it had been even Dariel, could my terror have been so terrible? I pulled her riding-gloves off, and found a penny in them, the change the dear frugal soul had taken from the last turnpike gate she paid. And then when I saw her sweet kind face as white as a shroud, and the bright eyes closed, and the long black lashes that I used to vow she dyed--when I wanted to put her in a passion--lying upon the waxen cheeks, without caring a dump what any other chap might think, I lifted up my voice and wept. [Illustration: "_Her sweet kind face as white as a shroud._"] "Shush, shush, don't be a fool, Shorje," said some fellow, pushing me away; "ze gairl is only what you called shtunned. All raight, all raight, in ten skips of ze vlea. My tear, I am ze dochtor."