But there was that burning in Rupert's heart that made him heedless
of all danger, and indeed, he who for mere love of sport and
adventure, had followed a wounded tiger into the jungle and tracked
a buffalo through thick reeds, was not likely to draw back now.
Once he thought he had succeeded, for he saw a bush move and he
rushed at once upon it. But when he reached it there was nothing
there, and the ground about was hard and bare, showing no marks to
prove any one had lately been near. And once he saw a movement in
the midst of some bracken and caught a glimpse of what seemed like
Walter's coat, so that he was sure he had him at last, and he
shouted and ran forward.
But again no one was there, though the bracken was all trampled and
beaten down. The tracks Walter had made in going were plain, too,
but Rupert lost them almost at once and could not find them again,
and when he came a little later to the further edge of the wood, he
decided to waste no more time, but to make his way direct to
Bittermeads so as at least to make sure of Ella's safety.
He told himself that he had failed badly in woodcraft and, indeed,
he had been too fierce and hot in his pursuit to show his wonted
skill.
The plan that had been in his mind from the moment when he left his
father was to take advantage of the fact that on this edge of the
wood was situated a farm belonging to Lord Chobham, where horses
were bred and where he was well known.
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