He was returning, and had reached the top of the long hill where the park fence began, and a high solid gate--so that no dogs could enter--gave access to that wild domain, when a confused murmur in the keen blue air caused him to look back.

For a mile or more the road was straight, and the leafless trees and hedges left the prospect open to him in all directions; at the extremity of the road was some huge moving object, which, advancing at great speed, disclosed the Squire's mail phaeton, drawn by four antlered stags, and followed at some distance by three or four mounted grooms, apparently unable to keep up with him.

Carew himself was standing up like some charioteer of old, and, although he already outstripped the very wind, was laying about him frantically with his whip, as up the hill the frightened creatures tore as if the ground were level.

The reason of this headlong speed was at the same time made evident by the appearance of a pack of hounds, which, followed by a numerous field in scarlet, was coming across the grass-land in full cry.
The spectacle, though weird and strange, was by no means without a certain grandeur--like some barbarous pageant.

Yorke understood the situation at a glance.