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Hawke's Bay Herald, Volume 6, Issue 330, 1 November 1862, Page 5

CHAPTEB 11.

Miss Etheredge, the belle of Shallowell, stands at the window of the pump-room. She is surrounded by a select band of male and female satellites.

" Who is that in such deep mourning walking with Captain Maverley ? " she inquired of Dr. poser, the most active of newsmongers and most industrious of gossips.

The gentleman she indicates is a slight, ele-gant-looking man, about the middle height. He is very pale, with a large black moustache. The rest of his face is closely shaven.

" You may look upon that gentleman as a phenomenon, Miss Etheredge," replied the doctor ; " for in him you see a man in mourning for himself. That is Mr. Kingston, of whom I Have no doubt you have heard."

'' But Mr. Kingston must be in mourning for his cousin, who has left him. the fortune."

" His cousin may form an excuse to put forward to the world, but I know from the best authority " — and here the doctor shook his head mysteriously — " that he will never return to another garb. He wears it as a token of his own approaching end."

And here the doctor repeated the story of Mr. Kingston's intentions, which had preceded him to Shailowell. As he concluded it, Maverley and Kingston repassed on horseback ; the captain in pink, his friend in his usual black. Kingston was riding a gigantic black horse, nearly seventeen hands, and evidently of immense power. " The hounds meet at Laverock Close this morning ; you should have gone to see them throw off, Miss Etheredge," said young George Clatham.

" How is it that you are not there ? " retorted the young lady, looking gracefully unconscious. Poor George blushed, but made no reply. As soon as Kingston and Maverley reached the Close, the captain, who was a great authority on horse-flesh, was carried off by a friend to give an opinion on a mare that Mivens, the livery-stable keeper from Shallowell, had ridden over to sell. Consequently, Kingston was left alone, and not being known, was a good deal stared at. Most of the men present were members of the hunt, and turned out in the uniform, which was gorgeous in the extreme, so that Kingston's sables formed a striking contrast amid the mass of pink.

" That fellow must be an undertaker," said Mr. SnafQetcn.

" The brute he is riding does look as if he had just come out of a hearse," said Bob Bitwell.

"Go and tell him, Charlie, its no use his coming here ; he won't get any orders tp-day. Nobody ever breaks his neck in this hunt," said Snaffieton.

"Go yourself," said Charlie Chesterfield.

" Charlie's afraid," said Bitwell.

." No, Charlie's not," said that young gentleman ; "but I'll toss Bitwell whether he goes or I."

" Come, now, that's only fair," cried two or three men.

Bitwell did not like it, but was ashamed to slink out of it. There was a general laugh when he lost the toss.

As he walked his horse towards Kingston, two or three ranged near enough to hear what he said.

Kingston had been standing with his back to his critics ; it is probable that if they had seen his face the joke would not have been suggested. When he happened to turn, as Bitwell came up, that gentleman conceived an additional dislike to the duty he had to perform. However, he felt he was in for it, and plunged desperately in medias res.

" I don't think you'll do much business to-day, sir?"

Kingston chose to suppose that he alluded to the prospect of sport, though he had caught a word here and there of the conversation, and Buspeoted that a jest was intended. He replied accordingly — •

"Not a bad scenting morning." "Oh, I did not mean with the fox, I meant with the funerals." " I have not the pleasure of your acquaintance,

sir, and I do not take orders for funerals ; but, if you should follow me to-day, I think it is extremely likely I may have to give one." These words Kingston uttered very slowly, and gave additional point to the last sentence by surveying Mr. Bitwell and his horse through his ebony-encircled eyeglass.

That gentleman looked extremely uncomfortable as he returned to his friends.

They found very soon after this, and got away directly. An open countiy and the pace tremendous. Twenty minutes' straight riding, and only one momentary check. Kingston only rides ten stone, and Erebus is well up to fifteen. He has ridden more than one steeple-chase, and been first past the post. The black coat takes its place in the first rank as a matter of course. Bitwell, who does not forget the challenge, strives hard to keep ahead, but Erebus is too much for his chestnut across some ploughed land. Over the crest of the hill they go straight as a line, with a splendid view as they top it. But as they begin to descend, they see a great deal more than they like.

One long field, with a most unpromising bullfinch at the bottom, and, beyond, the hill falls away precipitously, like the side of a house. The fox points straight a-head, and in a minute two or three hounds are seen rolling over and over in their, course towards the bottom. The huntsman turns off to the right for a winding path which leads through the wood to the bottom. Bingston, who had taken the second place, goes straight a-head, glaucing once over his shoulder to look for Bitwell as he neared the fence. Bitwell caught his glance, and kept in his track. Crash through the bullfinch goes Erebus ; but can he keep his footing on' the other side ? For a second, it seems a certainty that he must fall on his head ; but, with a desperate effort, Bingston recovers him. Another stride, and he slides on to his haunches on the wet ground ; and so on, slipping and sliding, Kingston throwing his weight well back, by the most extraordinary luck they reached the bottom in safety. Then across the road over an oxer " like a bird," just in time for the kill ; for the hounds ran into him in the next field.

Bitwell got through the bullfinch gallantly, but the chestnut rolled over the moment he lighted on the descent, crushing his rider beneath him.

Bitwell was picked up about a third of the way down the hill, with two damaged ribs and a broken collar-bone. The chestnut rolled to the bottom and broke his back.

Behind Bitwell came Maverley and Snaffieton, but they wisely followed the example of the huntsman, and went round by the lane.

Snaifleton mentioned to the captain what had occurred before the run, and commented on Kingston's desperate riding.

'' Why, you see, if he breaks his neck now," said Maverley, "it will save him the trouble of killing himself at the end of the year, and would be more -moral besides."

Then followed the story.

Both Glencroft's hounds and the South Clodshire had some good runs during the next fortnight, at all of which Kingston was present, and rode in the same style. Fortunately, he did not again tempt any one to follow him ; and, thanks to his light weight, light hand, good seat, and the bone and blood of Erebus, he came to no harm.

By this time he had become an object of general interest at Shallowell ; and- though several people thought him mad, he had no relations who considered it would be a profitable speculation to put him in a lunatic asj'lum.