"I often said I'd not come here any more, and now I say it again." "And yet you'll be here the next meet," said Grindley, who had sneaked back to his old companions in weariness of spirit.
"Grindems, you know a sight too much," said Maxwell; "you do indeed.
An ordinary fellow has no chance with you." Grindley was again going to catch it, but was on this time saved by the appearance of the huntsman, who came galloping up one of the rides, with a lot of the hounds at his heels.
"He isn't away, Tom, surely ?" said Maxwell.
"He's out of the wood somewheres," said Tom;--and off they all went.
Vavasor changed his horse, getting on to the brown one, and giving up his chestnut mare to Bat Smithers, who suggested that he might as well go home to Roebury now.

Vavasor gave him no answer, but, trotting on to the point where the rides met, stopped a moment and listened carefully.

Then he took a path diverging away from that by which the huntsmen and the crowd of horsemen had gone, and made the best of his way through the wood.

At the end of this he came upon Sir William, who, with no one near him but his servant, was standing in the pathway of a little hunting-gate.
"Hold hard," said Sir William.

"The hounds are not out of the wood yet." "Is the fox away, sir ?" "What's the good of that if we can't get the hounds out ?--Yes, he's away.