When the hounds moved the carriage would be ready to take them about the roads, and show them as much as could be seen on wheels.
Punctually at eleven John Morton and his American guest were on the bridge, and Tony Tuppett was already occupying his wonted place, seated on a strong grey mare that had done a great deal of work, but would live,--as Tony used to say,--to do a great deal more.

Round him the hounds were clustered,--twenty-three couple in all,--some seated on their haunches, some standing obediently still, while a few moved about restlessly, subject to the voices and on one or two occasions to a gentle administration of thong from the attendant whips.

Four or five horsemen were clustering round, most of them farmers, and were talking to Tony.

Our friend Mr.Twentyman was the only man in a red coat who had yet arrived, and with him, on her brown pony, was Kate Masters, who was listening with all her ears to every word that Tony said.
"That, I guess, is the Captain you spoke of," said the Senator pointing to Tony Tuppett.
"Oh no;--that's the huntsman.

Those three men in caps are the servants who do the work." "The dogs can't be brought out without servants to mind them! They're what you call gamekeepers." Morton was explaining that the men were not gamekeepers when Captain Glomax himself arrived, driving a tandem.