The dogs now brushed into the cover, with the appropriate encouragement from the hunters--all was business, bustle, and activity. My cousins were soon too much interested in the business of the morning to take any further notice of me, unless that I overheard Dickon the horse-jockey whisper to Wilfred the fool--“Look thou, an our French cousin be nat off a' first burst.” To which Wilfred answered, “Like enow, for he has a queer outlandish binding on's castor.” Thorncliff, however, who in his rude way seemed not absolutely insensible to the beauty of his kinswoman, appeared determined to keep us company more closely than his brothers,--perhaps to watch what passed betwixt Miss Vernon and me--perhaps to enjoy my expected mishaps in the chase. In the last particular he was disappointed. After beating in vain for the greater part of the morning, a fox was at length found, who led us a chase of two hours, in the course of which, notwithstanding the ill-omened French binding upon my hat, I sustained my character as a horseman to the admiration of my uncle and Miss Vernon, and the secret disappointment of those who expected me to disgrace it. Reynard, however, proved too wily for his pursuers, and the hounds were at fault. I could at this time observe in Miss Vernon's manner an impatience of the close attendance which we received from Thorncliff Osbaldistone; and, as that active-spirited young lady never hesitated at taking the readiest means to gratify any wish of the moment, she said to him, in a tone of reproach--“I wonder, Thornie, what keeps you dangling at my horse's crupper all this morning, when you know the earths above Woolverton-mill are not stopt.” “I know no such an thing then, Miss Die, for the miller swore himself as black as night, that he stopt them at twelve o'clock midnight that was.” “O fie upon you, Thornie! would you trust to a miller's word?--and these earths, too, where we lost the fox three times this season! and you on your grey mare, that can gallop there and back in ten minutes!” “Well, Miss Die, I'se go to Woolverton then, and if the earths are not stopt, I'se raddle Dick the miller's bones for him.” “Do, my dear Thornie; horsewhip the rascal to purpose--via--fly away, and about it;”--Thorncliff went off at the gallop--“or get horsewhipt yourself, which will serve my purpose just as well.--I must teach them all discipline and obedience to the word of command. I am raising a regiment, you must know. Thornie shall be my sergeant-major, Dickon my riding-master, and Wilfred, with his deep dub-a-dub tones, that speak but three syllables at a time, my kettle-drummer.” “And Rashleigh?” “Rashleigh shall be my scout-master.” “And will you find no employment for me, most lovely colonel?” “You shall have the choice of being pay-master, or plunder-master, to the corps. But see how the dogs puzzle about there. Come, Mr. Frank, the scent's cold; they won't recover it there this while; follow me, I have a view to show you.”