A few minutes before eleven, a 'gently, Rantaway,' accompanied by a slight
crack of a whip, drew the seedy and satisfied parties to the oriel window,
to see Mr. Bragg pass along with his hounds. They were just gliding
noiselessly over the green sward, Mr. Bragg rising in his stirrups, as
spruce as a game-cock, with his thoroughbred bay gambolling and pawing with
delight at the frolic of the hounds, some clustering around him, others
shooting forward a little, as if to show how obediently they would return
at his whistle. Mr. Bragg was known as the whistling huntsman, and was a
great man for telegraphing and signalizing with his arms, boasting that he
could make hounds so handy that they could do everything, except pay the
turnpike-gates. At his appearance the men all began to shuffle to the
passage and entrance-hall, to look for their hats and whips; and presently
there was a great outpouring of red coats upon the lawn, all straddling and
waddling of course. Then Mr. Bragg, seeing an audience, with a slight
whistle and wave of his right arm, wheeled his forces round, and trotted
gaily towards where our guests had grouped themselves, within the light
iron railing that separated the smooth slope from the field.
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