“Other dishes! why, man, here’s a breakfast for a court of aldermen,” said the squire; and having ascertained that the things were as agreeable to the taste as to the eye, and that the coffee was more clear and high–flavoured than he had ever tasted before, he seized his nephew’s hand, saying, “Reginald, my boy, I give in; your Master Perrot’s a trump, and no man shall ever speak a word against him in this house! A rare fellow!” Here he took another turn at the omelette; “hang me if he shan’t have a day’s sport;” and the squire chuckling at the idea that had suddenly crossed him, rang the bell violently: “Tell Repton,” said he to the servant who entered, “to saddle ‘Rattling Bess,’ for Monsieur Perrot, and to take her to the cover–side with the other horses at ten.” “She kicks a bit at starting,” added he to Reginald; “but she’s as safe as a mill; and though she rushes now and then at the fences, she always gets through or over ‘em.” Now it was poor Perrot’s turn to be astonished. To do him justice, he was neither a bad horseman (as a courier) nor a coward; but he had never been out with hounds, and the enumeration of “Rattling Bess’” qualities did not sound very attractive to his ear: he began gently to make excuses, and to decline the proposed favour: he had not the “proper dress:”—“he had much to do for Monsieur’s wardrobe at home:” but it was all to no purpose, the squire was determined; Repton’s coat and breeches would fit him, and go he _must_. With a rueful look at his master, Perrot slunk off, cursing in his heart the salmi and the omelette, which had procured him this undesired favour: but he was ordered to lose no time in preparing himself; so he first endeavoured to get into Mr. Repton’s clothes: that proved impossible, as Mr. R. _had_ been a racing jockey, and was a feather–weight, with legs like nutcrackers. Having no time for deliberation, Monsieur Perrot drew from his valise the courier suit which he had worn in France; and to the surprise of the whole party assembled at the door, he appeared clad in a blue coat turned up with yellow, a cornered hat, and enormous boots, half a foot higher than his knees. He was ordered to jump up behind the squire’s carriage, and away they went to the cover–side, amid the ill–suppressed titter of the grooms and footmen, and the loud laughter of the maids, whose malicious faces, not excepting that of Mary, were at the open windows below. When they reached the place appointed for “the meet,” and proceeded to mount the impatient horses awaiting them, Perrot eyed with no agreeable anticipation the long ears of Rattling Bess laid back, and the restless wag of her rat–tail, and he ventured one more attempt at an escape. “Really, sir,” said he to the squire, “I never hunted, and I don’t think I can manage that animal; she looks very savage.”