"There's no sound on earth like the tally-ho!" cried Eyrymount, delighted with Nashon's views, which seemed to coincide so well with his own. "You will be a true son of Nimrod, an' may carry away the gree of the hunting-cup of the southern sept of the Græmes."
"I like baith the drinkin-horn an' the tootin-horn," said Nashon; "an' will empty the ane an' fill the other as weel's ony fox-hunter i' the kingdom."
"Bravo! I have not been mistaken in you," cried Græme.
"The grey lark flees highest o' a' the singin' tribe," replied Nashon; "an' the bright gooldie the lowest. Ye canna ken a man frae his coat, ony mair than ye can tell whether a cat is a guid hunter frae the colour o' her skin."
"You are right," said Squire Hawthorn; "neither can you know a man from his boots."
"If they're borrowed, ye can say that he's a cautious, savin chiel wha wears them," replied Nashon; "but, if they're bought an' no paid," with a significant look at Hawthorn, who was known to be deep in debt, "ye can say he's an ass. Is the horn no sounded yet? I'm keen to set aff. My bluid's getting warm wi' the thought a' the throw aff an' the hark on. Ho! he! ho! tantivy! tantivy!"
And Nashon cracked his whip as he thus emulated, by a loud bellow, the spirit of the huntsman.
The chase began, and was continued with great spirit. Reynard displayed his usual tact; and the hounds, Squire Hawthorn's pack, were in fine blood. Nashon's tally-ho was heard ringing loudest in the woods; his horse was the finest of the company; and he scoured on like the wind, heedless of the laugh that was attempted to be raised against him by Hawthorn, who had told several of his friends, that Springall, which once belonged to him, knew the touch of the heel of his old boots, and, if they did not take care, would carry the clown in at the death, and shame the whole Soho Club. This sportive sally was successful in more ways than one; for while its humour was well-calculated to produce cachination, there was a ratiocination in it which was calculated to produce a lugubrious reaction for, to the surprise and discomfiture of all the huntsmen, Nashon Heatherton was the individual who was in at the death--a feat, doubtless, as much owing to the speed of Springall as to the dauntlessness of the rider, who, however, displayed great power of horsemanship and surprising presence of mind, on grounds of great difficulty and danger.