'" "What is that?" she asked. " "Forgive you!" echoed his mother, with a look radiant with delight. Sir Rowland then fell. She stared out of the paned glass window, watching the trees being blown bare by the gale force. "Saved!" "Ay, ay, it's all bob, my covey! You're safe enough, that's certain!" responded the Minters, baying, yelping, leaping, and howling around him like a pack of hounds when the huntsman is beating cover; "but, where are the lurchers?" "Who?" asked Wood. "As you please, Sir Rowland," returned Jonathan, with affected indifference; "but I'm not going to hunt the deer for another to eat the ven'son, depend on 't.
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