Then he rode on in silence till he was addressed by an old gentleman of the county who had known his father for the last thirty years. The old gentleman had had nothing about him to recommend him either to Harry's hatred or love till he spoke; and after that Harry hated him. "How d'you do, Mr. Annesley?" said the old gentleman, and then rode on. Harry knew that the old man had condemned him as the others had done, or he would never have called him Mr. Annesley. He felt that he was "blown upon" in his own county, as well as by the Ingoldsbys down in Kent. They had but a moderate day's sport, going a considerable distance in search of it, till an incident arose which gave quite an interest to the field generally, and nearly brought Joshua Thoroughbung into a scrape. They were drawing a covert which was undoubtedly the property of their own hunt,--or rather just going to draw it,--when all of a sudden they became aware that every hound in the pack was hunting. Mr. Harkaway at once sprung from his usual cold, apathetic manner into full action. But they who knew him well could see that it was not the excitement of joy. He was in an instant full of life, but it was not the life of successful enterprise. He was perturbed and unhappy, and his huntsman, Dillon,--a silent, cunning, not very popular man, who would obey his master in everything,--began to move about rapidly, and to be at his wit's end. The younger men prepared themselves for a run,--one of those sudden, short, decisive spurts which come at the spur of the moment, and on which a man, if he is not quite awake to the demands of the moment, is very apt to be left behind. But the old stagers had their eyes on Mr. Harkaway, and knew that there was something amiss. Then there appeared another field of hunters, first one man leading them, then others following, and after them the first ruck and then the crowd. It was apparent to all who knew anything that two packs had joined. These were the Hitchiners, as the rival sportsmen would call them, and this was the Hitchin Hunt, with Mr. Fairlawn, their master. Mr. Fairlawn was also an old man, popular, no doubt, in his own country, but by no means beloved by Mr. Harkaway. Mr. Harkaway used to declare how Fairlawn had behaved very badly about certain common coverts about thirty years ago, when the matter had to be referred to a committee of masters. No one in these modern days knew aught of the quarrel, or cared. The men of the two hunts were very good friends, unless they met under the joint eyes of the two masters, and then they were supposed to be bound to hate each other. Now the two packs were mixed together, and there was only one fox between them.