“‘Do you think I am going to get anything of the sort?’ he wailed.

“‘Well, really, I don’t know,’ said the doctor gravely.  ’I cannot undertake to say that you are out of danger.  Your system is very much out of order.  At any time during the day you might have those grave symptoms of which I warn you.’

“‘You think I shall be safe by evening?’

“’If you drink nothing during the day, and have no nervous symptoms before evening, I think you may consider yourself safe,” the doctor answered.  A little fright would, he thought, do his patient good, so he made the most of the matter.

“‘What symptoms may I expect?’ asked Danebury.

“‘It generally takes the form of optical delusions.’

“‘I see specks floating all about.’

“‘That is mere biliousness,’ said the doctor soothingly, for he saw that the lad was highly strung, and he did not wish to overdo it.  ’I daresay that you will have no symptoms of the kind, but when they do come they usually take the shape of insects, or reptiles, or curious animals.’

“‘And if I see anything of the kind?’

“‘If you do, you will at once send for me;’ and so, with a promise of medicine, the doctor departed.

“Young Wat Danbury rose and dressed and moped about the room feeling very miserable and unstrung, with a vision of the County Asylum for ever in his mind.  He had the doctor’s word for it that if he could get through to evening in safety he would be all right; but it is not very exhilarating to be waiting for symptoms, and to keep on glancing at your bootjack to see whether it is still a bootjack or whether it has begun to develop antennae and legs.  At last he could stand it no longer, and an overpowering longing for the fresh air and the green grass came over him.  Why should he stay indoors when the Ascombe Hunt was meeting within half a mile of him?  If he was going to have these delusions which the doctor talked of, he would not have them the sooner nor the worse because he was on horseback in the open.  He was sure, too, it would ease his aching head.  And so it came about that in ten minutes he was in his hunting-kit, and in ten more he was riding out of his stable-yard with his roan mare ‘Matilda’ between his knees.  He was a little unsteady in his saddle just at first, but the farther he went the better he felt, until by the time he reached the meet his head was almost clear, and there was nothing troubling him except those haunting words of the doctor’s about the possibility of delusions any time before nightfall.

“But soon he forgot that also, for as he came up the hounds were thrown off, and they drew the Gravel Hanger, and afterwards the Hickory Copse.  It was just the morning for a scent—­no wind to blow it away, no water to wash it out, and just damp enough to make it cling.  There was a field of forty, all keen men and good riders, so when they came to the Black Hanger they knew that there would be some sport, for that’s a cover which never draws blank.  The woods were thicker in those days than now, and the foxes were thicker also, and that great dark oak-grove was swarming with them.  The only difficulty was to make them break, for it is, as you know, a very close country, and you must coax them out into the open before you can hope for a run.