in the hounds. The gossip here is no small part of the entertainment:
but as soon as we hear the hounds give tongue--"

"The favourite hounds," interposed Williamson.

"The favourite hounds, to be sure," continued Benson: "there is a dead
silence till pug is well out of cover, and the whole pack well in:
then cheer the hounds with tally-ho! till your lungs crack. Away he
goes in gallant style, and the whole field is hard up, till pug takes
a stiff country: then they who haven't pluck lag, see no more of him,
and, with a fine blazing scent, there are but few of us in at the
death."

"Well, we are fairly in at the death, I hope," said Lady Dashfort: "I
was thrown out sadly at one time in the chase."

Lord Colambre, with the count's permission, took up a book in which
the count's pencil lay, "Pasley on the Military Policy of Great
Britain;" it was marked with many notes of admiration, and with hands
pointing to remarkable passages.

"That is a book that leaves a strong impression on the mind," said the
count.

Lord Colambre read one of the marked passages, beginning with "All
that distinguishes a soldier in outward appearance from a citizen
is so trifling--" but at this instant our hero's attention was
distracted by seeing in a black-letter book this title of a chapter:
"Burial-place of the Nugents."