By this time Mr. Simpson was beginning to pluck up his courage, and in company with those who had not been so favoured at the start was going fairly well. Ten minutes more brought them to the stiles that had been the subject of discussion at dinner the previous evening, and nasty-looking objects they were. The first was not so bad, but the second was a regular teaser--hog-backed, with a yawning ditch, spanned by a footboard on the far side. "Steady, Milly," said Tom, as Birdcatcher rushed at No. 1. "By gad, she'll be down if she goes at that pace," shouted Jack in an agony, his horse, a young 'un, having refused. At this crisis Mr. Simpson appeared on the scene, the rest of the field preferring the safer course down the lane. Tom managed the hog-back successfully, and was too much occupied with the hounds, now racing a field ahead, to think of Mildred, who had evidently got as much as she could manage in the thoroughly-roused Birdcatcher. Jack's feelings can be better imagined than described as he saw Milly rush at the stile and Birdcatcher turn a complete somersault, sending his mistress flying, happily, some yards away from where he fell. "Come up, you brute," he yelled, driving his spurs home and fairly lifting the astonished young 'un over both fences. Scarcely had he landed over the hog-back than he was off his horse and kneeling by Milly in a paroxysm of grief. "My darling child, are you hurt? My God, she's dead!" he cried, as he tried to lift her. But she was only stunned for the moment, and to his ineffable joy Milly opened her eyes and said: "It's all right, Jack; I'm not hurt. Catch my horse and let's get on." The "Thank God" came from the bottom of his heart as he caught the two nags and lifted her on; but the agonised expression on his face told Mildred plainer than any words the "old old tale," and in her inmost heart she blessed the fall for the revelation. The fox meanwhile, who had been headed by a labourer, turned short back, and as they came round, about two fields above the spot where the accident took place, everyone was much amused at the sight of Mr. Simpson, who, unable to muster up courage to ride at the place, and thinking that no one was likely to see him, had got off his horse, and having promised a yokel a sovereign to catch him on the other side, was doing his best, with the aid of his hunting-whip, to induce his four hundred guineas' worth to take it by himself. No further mishap occurred, and in half an hour, after running hard all the time, they viewed and killed their fox in the open, Mr. Simpson arriving just as the last morsel disappeared down old Solomon's throat. By this time Mildred was feeling the effects of her fall, and Simpson was only too glad to offer to be her escort home; an opportunity which he took advantage of to propose in due form, the effect of his solicitations being somewhat marred by the aversion his horse displayed to walking.