'
'Perhaps so,' answered Rose, 'but my father will not permit any one to
practise on his feelings on this subject.'
By this time the Baron, with the help of Mr. Saunderson, had indued
a pair of jack-boots of large dimensions, and now invited our hero to
follow him as he stalked clattering down the ample staircase, tapping
each huge balustrade as he passed with the butt of his massive
horsewhip, and humming, with the air of a chasseur of Louis Quatorze,
Pour la chasse ordonnee il faut preparer tout,
Hola ho! Vite! vite debout.
CHAPTER XIII
A MORE RATIONAL DAY THAN THE LAST
The Baron of Bradwardine, mounted on an active and well-managed horse,
and seated on a demi-pique saddle, with deep housings to agree with his
livery, was no bad representative of the old school. His light-coloured
embroidered coat, and superbly barred waistcoat, his brigadier wig,
surmounted by a small gold-laced cocked-hat, completed his personal
costume; but he was attended by two well-mounted servants on horseback,
armed with holster pistols.
In this guise he ambled forth over hill and valley, the admiration of
every farmyard which they passed in their progress, till, 'low down in
a grassy vale,' they found Davie Gellatley leading two very tall deer
greyhounds, and presiding over half a dozen curs, and about as many
bare-legged and bare-headed boys, who, to procure the chosen distinction
of attending on the chase, had not failed to tickle his ears with the
dulcet appellation of Maister Gellatley, though probably all and each
had booted him on former occasions in the character of daft Davie.
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