fell flat likewise, letting go the reins of the horses, which latter
no sooner felt themselves free than they fled, curvetting and
snorting round the court, with reins and manes flying in rare
confusion.

The two boys, who could scarce stand for laughing, ran to the gates
of the fort to prevent the chargers getting free, and in a short time
they were again secured, although evidently much elated in spirit.

A few minutes after this Mr. Grant issued from the principal house
leaning on Mr. Kennedy's arm, and followed by the senior clerk, Peter
Mactavish, and one or two friends who had come to take part in the
wolf-hunt. They were all armed with double or single barrelled guns
or pistols, according to their several fancies. The two elderly
gentlemen alone entered upon the scene without any more deadly
weapons than their heavy riding-whips. Young Harry Somerville, who
had been strongly advised not to take a gun lest he should shoot
himself or his horse or his companions, was content to take the field
with a small pocket-pistol, which he crammed to the muzzle with a
compound of ball and swan-shot.

"It won't do," said Mr. Grant, in an earnest voice, to his friend, as
they walked towards the horses--"it won't do to check him too
abruptly, my dear sir."

It was evident that they were recurring to the subject of
conversation of the previous day, and it was also evident that the
father's wrath was in that very uncertain state when a word or look
can throw it into violent agitation.