ture, which levels all differences of rank and education, than an acquired habit of rapid exercise.
The repeated bursts of the French horn, which were then always used for the encouragement and direction of the hounds—the deep, though distant baying of the pack—the half-heard cries of the huntsmen—the half-seen forms which were discovered now emerging from glens which crossed the moor, now sweeping over its surface, now picking their way where it was impeded by morasses, and, above all, the feeling of his own rapid motion, animated the Master of Ravenswood, at least for the moment, above the recollections of a more painful nature by which he was surrounded. The first thing which recalled him to those unpleasing circumstances was feeling that his horse, notwithstanding all the advantages which he received from his rider's knowledge of the country, was unable to keep up with the chace. As he drew his bridle
