Mrs. Hordiestraw brought out a bottle; the cordial went round; it was said to be rare good tackle. The two young men looked at Frampton with friendlier eyes, but at the same time were wary. At the second passing of Tommy, the talk turned on the late Colonel Tittup. One there had seen him ride by that morning, on his way to his death. They had liked the old chap; he had done some manful things in his day; some of the friendly, stupid, testy and kindly things done and said by him were recounted. Frampton thought that the knowledge shown was extraordinary. The Colonel would have known nothing like this of any one of the men who thus discussed him.
“He wasn’t easy, if you wanted anything done,” one man said, “not in his last years. I’ve got a brother in Stubbington. They got the Colonel just after the War to be like what they call the Chairman or Treasurer for Stubbington War Memorial; and they’ve never been able to agree what sort of a memorial to have; and they haven’t got one yet. The money’s lying in the bank, and will be, till the next War, like as not.” He thought a moment, and then went on. “He was all for having a cricket-field, the Colonel was; and most of the others wanted a swimming-pool or a stone and that; but the Colonel said: ‘Waterloo was won on the cricket-fields, not in any swimming-pool or stonemason’s yard.’”
Frampton left them after this; it was time to be off. He left the inn, reflecting on the names Pob Ted and Brass-Eyed Sarah.
“That will be Sarah Drachm, of
As he reached home, the young American drove up. He was flicked about with mud, but rosy and happy, with shining eyes. It did Frampton good to see a man enjoying so keenly.
“Did you enjoy your hunt?” Frampton asked.
“Enjoy it? Gee, I should smile,” the youth said. “I got over a sort of bridge, and there were the hounds right in front of me. I never had such a kick out of anything. After about another three miles, I came on the lot of them dancing round a bit of a rabbit on a string. Then somebody asked, wouldn’t I like to be riding. I could get a horse at a sort of a big inn, there. So I went to the inn and got a horse. I’d no sooner gotten him, than the hounds were off on a fox, they said, and I went with them. I guess I must have been pretty close to him, but I couldn’t see him.”
“They stopped the hunt because a man was killed, I understand,” Frampton said.
“Is that so? I stopped, because my horse wouldn’t go any farther, and I’ve got to make Chester, to see this guy about this deal. Gee, if I put the deal through I’m going to cable my pop, I’m going to stop over and do some hunting. Say, what do you fellows do to a fox when you get him?”
“They get him from the hounds and smear some of his blood on a new-comer’s face. Then they cut off his head, or mask, as you have to call it, and his tail, which they call his brush, and his feet, which they call his pads; these they treasure as relics. Then they yell, to excite the hounds, and when the hounds are excited, they chuck the rest of him to them, for them to eat. They wouldn’t eat unless half crazy; a fox is a stinking meat.”
The American pondered this; then said that he guessed, if he might be excused, he would be getting a move on. He had had a great time and enjoyed every minute of it; but from what someone had said, he judged he was somewheres of a long way from Chester, and didn’t want to be too late in getting there.” He listened to Frampton’s directions, and read through a written route which Frampton put into his hand. “I guess I’ll make it,” he said.
Frampton had no doubt that he would make the North Pole, in case of need.
When he was alone, Frampton had leisure to think of the day. It had been a savage day to him, and he meant to make it rough for those who had made it so. Going through the hall, he found cards on the table from Mr. Practice Method-Methodde, M.P. and wife. Helga told him that a chauffeur had brought them all the way from the road.
“Practice Method-Methodde,” he repeated. “That’s the Member for this constituency.” He was indignant with him. Why had he not come himself to the door, if this were a call? “I suppose,” he muttered to himself, “you were out at the meet or watching the hounds, and thought you could just send your man up, as I should certainly be away; and then you could say that you had called.”
He determined that he would not return the call.