eight o'clock
She cast an entirely disobedient eye at me . `` And your eye-glass is hanging down your back and your tie is bulging out over your waistcoat ! '' The little group of riders had begun to move away . `` We 're going on into Aussolas , '' called out Flurry ; `` come on , and make my grandmother give you some breakfast , Mrs. Yeates ; she always has it at eight o'clock . '' The front gates were close at hand , and we turned in under the tall beech-trees , with the unswept leaves rustling round the horses ' feet , and the lovely blue of the October morning sky filling the spaces between smooth grey branches and golden leaves . The woods rang with the voices of the hounds , enjoying an untrammelled rabbit hunt , while the Master and the Whip , both on foot , strolled along unconcernedly with their bridles over their arms , making themselves agreeable to my wife , an occasional touch of Flurry 's horn , or a crack of Dr. Rickey 's whip , just indicating to the pack that the authorities still took a friendly interest in their doings . Down a grassy glade in the wood a party of old Mrs. Knox 's young horses suddenly swept into view , headed by an old mare , who , with her tail over her back , stampeded ponderously past our cavalcade , shaking and swinging her handsome old head , while her youthful friends bucked and kicked and snapped at each other round her with the ferocious humour of their kind .