Fossick's man in drab with a
green collar, Mr. Wake's in blue, also a lad in scarlet and a flat hat,
with a second horse for the huntsman. Drawing still nearer came the
ruck--men in red, men in brown, men in livery, a farmer or two in fustian,
all mingled together; and a few hundred yards before these, and close upon
his lordship, were the _elite_ of the field--five men in scarlet and one in
black. Let us see who they are. By the powers, Mr. Sponge is first!--Sponge
sailing away at his ease, followed by Jack, who is staring at him through
his great lamps, longing to launch out at him, but as yet wanting an
excuse; Sponge having ridden with judgement--judgement, at least, in
everything except in having taken the lead of Jack. After Jack comes old
black-booted Blossomnose; and Messrs. Wake, Fossick, and Fyle, complete our
complement of five. They are all riding steadily and well; all very irate,
however, at the stranger for going before them, and ready to back Jack in
anything he may say or do.
On, on they go; the hounds still pressing forward, though not carrying
quite so good a head as before.
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