"_Si c'est possible c'est fait, si c'est impossible cela ce fera_," laughed Florence, as she left her brother to think over what she had said. The old Indian, Sandford by name, was the great hope of both Jack and his sister. He was their mother's only brother, and though he had been home but once in forty years, an event which occurred some nine years back, he had on that occasion intimated that Jack was to be his heir, and when driven to India by what he called "the cursed climate and infernal fogs" of his native country, he had left a thousand pounds to be used for Jack's advancement in life, and regularly every Christmas a letter arrived from Simla to Jack, enclosing an order on Messrs. Drummond for two hundred pounds, bearing the simple signature "John Sandford." When his sister had gone Jack threw himself into a chair, and after musing for some time tumbled into bed, and was soon dreaming of Milly, the Nabob, and Simpson, all of whom were trying to catch an animal that occasionally took the shape of Birdcatcher, and as often that of his sister. CHAPTER III. FLOOD AND FIELD. "A southerly wind and a cloudy sky," sung loudly by his bedside, woke Jack on the following morning, and, opening his eyes, he encountered those of Tom Wingfield, who, as soon as he saw that he had effected his purpose--to wit, waking Jack--said: "How's the head, old man? It's a ripping fine morning; tumble up. Here's the shaving-water," as the footman entered the room. "I've called Simpson. By Jove, what a bore that man is! he told me last night exactly how much he had given for everything he possessed. However, Phillips, whom I saw just now, says his four hundred guineas worth looks a nailer, but I doubt if our friend's heart is in the right place." "Heart be blowed!" growled Jack; "the only heart he knows of is the heart of the City. Clear out, Tom, though; its late, and I shall never be dressed in time for breakfast." However, he was, and as he entered the dining-room he thought he had never seen Milly look so well as, in her well-fitting and workmanlike habit, she dispensed the honours of the tea. Simpson was simply gorgeous, and evidently fancied himself considerably, though as the clock marked the hour of ten and the first contingent arrived, his rubicund features went many degrees paler at the thought of Belton brook and his four-hundred-guinea hunter. Punctual to the minute the hounds arrived, and after a quarter of an hour, during which time refreshment for man and horse was in full swing, the signal to move off was given. "Mornin', Master Jack," said old Jim the Huntsman, as Jack came out of the stable-yard, his mount bucking like an Australian. "I'm main glad to see you wi' us again; we shall soon find summat to take the play out o' you" (alluding to the horse). "If I mistake not, you mean a-showing 'em what for, and I'm sure I hope you will."