would not admit this, so he busied himself in making holes in the
hedges, so that Silvia (or her cubs) could enter from whatever side she
came. At last he forced himself to go indoors and sit down and drink
some tea. While he was there he fancied he heard the hounds again; it
was but a faint ghostly echo of their music, yet when he ran out of the
house it was already close at hand in the copse above.

Now it was that poor Mr. Tebrick made his great mistake, for hearing the
hounds almost outside the gate he ran to meet them, whereas rightly he
should have run back to the house. As soon as he reached the gate he saw
his wife Silvia coming towards him but very tired with running and just
upon her the hounds. The horror of that sight pierced him, for ever
afterwards he was haunted by those hounds--their eagerness, their
desperate efforts to gain on her, and their blind lust for her came at
odd moments to frighten him all his life. Now he should have run back,
though it was already late, but instead he cried out to her, and she ran
straight through the open gate to him. What followed was all over in a
flash, but it was seen by many witnesses.

The side of Mr. Tebrick's garden there is bounded by a wall, about six
feet high and curving round, so that the huntsmen could see over this
wall inside. One of them indeed put his horse at it very boldly, which
was risking his neck, and although he got over safe was too late to be
of much assistance.

His vixen had at once sprung into Mr. Tebrick's arms, and before he
could turn back the hounds were upon them and had pulled them down. Then
at that moment there was a scream of despair heard by all the field that
had come up, which they declared afterwards was more like a woman's
voice than a man's. But yet there was no clear proof whether it was Mr.