"Oh, Piers is stuffed tight with gunpowder
as everybody knows. He explodes at a touch. Get along, Barchard! What are
you waiting for? I told you to take the hounds home."
Barchard looked at the Colonel.
"I suppose you'd better," the latter said. He threw a glance of
displeasure at Avery. "It's a most unheard of affair altogether, but I
admit there's not much to be said for a kill in cold blood. Yes, take
'em home!"
Barchard made a savage cut at two of the hounds who were scratching and
whimpering at a tiny chink in the boarding, and with surly threats
collected the pack and moved off.
The rest of the field melted away into the deepening dusk. Ina and Dick
Guyes were among the last to go. They moved off side by side.
"It'll be the laugh of the county," the man said, "but, egad, I like
her pluck."
And in answer the girl laughed again, a careless, merry laugh. "Yes, I
wonder who she is. A friend of Piers' apparently. Did you see what a
stiff fury he was in?"
"It was a fairly stiff flogging," remarked Guyes. "Ye gods! I wonder how
he stood it."
"Oh, Piers can stand anything," said Ina unconcernedly. "He's as strong
as an ox."
The voices dwindled and died in the distance. The dusk deepened. A sense
of utter forlornness, utter weariness, came upon Avery. The struggle was
over, and she had emerged triumphant; but it did not seem to matter.
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