The unexacting position of being at the heel of the hunt may have a charm for the philosophic or unambitious, but so black a continuation of so great a start was a trial quite beyond the endurance of a young gentleman possessed of the artistic temperament.  And then the abominable Mangan girl came into play, and joined in the circling performance at the big bank.  Always, when Larry felt that this time the cob was going to “have it,” that cow-like red and white beast would jam itself in the way, so he thought, raging.  In this matter of hunting, Dr. Mangan had not been well advised in his scheme for his little girl’s social advantage.

In the meantime the hounds had run their fox into Drumkeen Wood, and the riders, arriving in small and breathless companies, thanked God for a check, and tightened their girths and took courage.  The latter would undoubtedly be needed if the run continued; Drumkeen Wood was hung like a cloak upon the side of a steep hill, and was the invariable prelude to the worst going within the bounds of the hunt.

“If he’s into the big earth here, I’m afraid it’s good-bye to him!” said Dr. Mangan, taking courage in a liquid form.  “It was a sweet gallop while it lasted!  Sweet and short, like this toothful of cherry brandy I’m after drinking!”

“Ah, that’s poor stuff, Doctor,” said Mr. Hallinan, proprietor of Hallinan’s Hotel, a prosperous hostelry, much patronised by salmon-fishers.  “Give me a sup of good old John Jameson in its purity!”

“’Twas for Tishy I brought this out,” replied the Doctor, apologetically; “but I lost sight of her.  She’s back somewhere with little Christian Lowry and young Coppinger.”

“What sort of a lad is that?” asked Mr. Hallinan.  “Is he as big a pup as them young Lowrys?”

“Ah, they’re not so bad altogether,” said Dr. Mangan, indulgently.  “Young sprigs like them are none the worse for a little tashpy, as the people say!” The Doctor’s heavy voice relaxed a little over the world tashpy (which, it should perhaps be explained, is Irish, and implies a blend of impudence and high spirits).  He was quite aware that his friend Hallinan and he regarded the Talbot-Lowrys from a different standpoint.

“I was having a bit of lunch there the other day,” he went on, “and I thought they were nice boys enough.”

“I hope you got enough to eat!” said Mr. Hallinan, disagreeably; “I’m told that their butcher’s sick and tired trying to get what he’s owed, out of them!  There should be drink enough, anyway!  I’m just after sending in a case of whisky there.  God knows when I’ll be ped for it!”

At this moment the two gentlemen, whose horses were nibbling the grass of the bank that surrounded the wood, were shaken by the sudden appearance of the white nose of the Master’s chestnut on the other side of the bank.

“I’d be obliged if there was less noise!” said the Master’s voice, with threatening in it.