“You'll have it very soon, sir,” said old Conolly; “the dogs are together now. I wish that young gentleman there would move a little up the hill.” This was said of a young officer who took his station at the exit of the cover. “There they go, now! Tally-ho!” cried he, in ecstasy, and the shout re-echoed from a hundred voices, as the hounds, in full cry, burst from the cover, and were seen, in one compact mass, rising the opposite hill. In a second every horse was away, save that little group around the Knight, and which, notwithstanding all the efforts of the servants, bounded and plunged in mad impatience. Beauclerk was the first down the hill, and over the brook, which he cleared gallantly. Conolly followed close; and then came Crofton in a group of others, among whom rode O'Reilly, all riding well and safely; and last of all was Lionel, mounted on the brown thoroughbred, and holding him together, in spite of all his eagerness to get on. The Knight forgot everything that lay heavily on his heart as he watched his son nearing the brook, which he took flying. “He knows his horse; now! see!” cried Darcy, as his whole face beamed with enthusiastic delight; “look a little this way, my dear Mrs. Somerville, Lionel's gaining on them!” Mrs. Somerville scarcely needed the direction, for, notwithstanding her horse's plunging, she had never taken her glass from her eye. “Is that a wall on the side of the hill? I really believe it is!” said Lord Netherby, with an accent of amazement and horror. “A stone wall, and a stout one. I know it well,” said Darcy. “There goes Sir Harry Beauclerk at it. Too fast, sir! too fast!” screamed out the Knight, as if his advice could be heard and followed at that distance. “He's down! he's down!” cried several voices together, as horse and rider balanced for a second on the top, and rolled headlong on the opposite side, while Helen grasped her father's arm, but never uttered a word. “His horse is away--there he goes!--but the young man is on his legs again!” called out the Knight; “see how the rest are scattering now--they 've no fancy for it;” for so it was, Beauclerk's catastrophe, mounted, as they knew him to be, on one of the most perfect of hunters, had terrified the field, and they broke up into different groups, searching an exit where they could. “There he goes,--that's the way to take it!” cried Darcy, as Lionel, emerging from the little valley, was seen ascending the hill in a sharp canter; “see, my Lord! Do you mark how he holds his horse together? The hind legs are well forward--beautifully done!” “Oh, beautifully done!” re-echoed Mrs. Somerville, as the young man, with one cut of his whip, rose the horse to the wall, topped, poised for an instant on its summit, and bounded down with the seeming lightness of a bird. “They're all together again,” said Helen. “Mr. Conolly has found a gap, and there they go.”