A soft low whistle broke the stillness or mingled with it.  A snatch of melody came like the strains of a fairy pipe from the edge of the larch wood.  Again there came a sharp movement in some long grass near the gate that led from the open down into the Burchester estate.  It sounded as if some small imprisoned creature were fighting for freedom.  Then in another moment there came the rush and snuffle of a questing dog, and old Chops the setter came bursting through the hedge that bordered the wood.

He flung himself through the long grass with an agility that belied his advancing years, and in an instant there arose a cry that seemed to thrill the whole wood with horror.  The enchanted silence broke upon it like the shivering of a crystal ball, for as Chops pounced another cry rang clear and commanding from the other side of the hedge.

“Chops!  Back!  Back!  Do you hear, Chops?  Come back.”

Chops did not come back, but he paused above his quarry, and looked round with open jaws and lolling tongue.  If it had been his master who thus called him, he would have obeyed on the instant.  But Toby was a different matter, and the frantic, struggling thing in front of him was a sore temptation.

His brief hesitation, however, lost him the game.  Her light feet raced through the grass with the speed of wings, and she threw herself over the gate and upon him before he could make good his claim.  He found himself thrust back, and the long habit of obedience had conquered instinct before it could reassert itself.  She dropped upon her knees beside the thing in the grass and discovered a young hare caught in a snare.

It was a very ordinary poacher’s contrivance fashioned of wire.  The little animal was fairly caught round the body, and the cruel tension of the gin testified to his anguished and futile struggles for freedom.  The wire had cut into his shoulder, and his bolting eyes were wild with terror.  It was no easy task to loosen the trap, and there was blood on Toby’s hands as she strove to release the straining, frenzied creature.

She was far too deeply engrossed in the matter to heed any sound of approaching feet, and when the thud of a horse’s hoofs suddenly fell on the turf close to her she did not raise her head.  But she did look up startled when two hands swooped down from above her and gripped the hare with a vice-like strength that stilled all struggling.

“He will claw you to pieces,” said Bunny bluntly.  “Shall I kill him?  He’s damaged.  Or do you want to let him go?”

“Oh, let him go—­of course!” cried Toby, dragging reckless at the wire.  “See, it’s coming now!  Hold him tight while I slip it off!”

The wire slipped at last.  She forced it loose, and the victim was free.  Bunny turned to lay him in the grass, and Toby sprang upon Chops and held him fast.  She was crying, fiercely, angrily.

“How dare they set that cruel thing?  How dare they?  He isn’t dead, is he?  Why doesn’t he run away?”