"Of course she understands! Don't I tell you 'tis a clever little lady?If I call her now she'll come up these steps to me, and not all theostlers in Christendom could stop her."
"Don't'ee go for to do it, sir!" urged the old man, backing. "She mustbe uncommon fond o' ye?"
"She'd be a deal fonder of you if you'd fetch her a drink," hinted Jackbroadly.
"Ay, sir! I be a-going this werry instant!" And with many an anxiousglance over his shoulder at the perfectly quiet mare, he disappearedthrough an open doorway into the yard.
When Carstares, tankard of ale in hand, emerged from the inn and sathimself down on one of the benches that stood against the wall, themare was drinking thirstily from a bucket which the ancient one held forher.
"'Tis a wunnerful fine mare, sir," he remarked at length, after acareful inspection of her points.
Carstares nodded pleasantly, and surveyed Jenny through half-shut eyes.
"I think so every time I look at her," he said.
"I should think she could get a bit of a pace on her, sir? Mebbe ye'vetried her racing?"
"No, she wasn't brought up to that. But she's fast enough."
"Ay, sir. No vices?"
"Lord, no!"
"Don't kick neither?"
"Not with me."
"Ah! they allus knows who'll stand it and who won't."
Jack drained his tankard, and setting it down on the bench beside him,rose to his feet.
"She'd not dream of kicking a friend. Jenny!"
The ostler watched her pick her way towards her master, coquetting withher head, and sidling round him in the most playful manner possible. Aslow smile dawned on the man's face.
"Ah, it be a purty sight to watch her--so it be!" he said, and receiveda guinea from Jack, who never tired of listening to praise of hisbeloved Jenny.
Carstares remounted, nodded farewell to the ostler and rode leisurely ondown the street, soon branching off to the right into a typical Sussexlane, where he trotted between uneven hedges, sweet with blossom andwith May, and placid fields rolling away on either side, upwards untilthey merged into the undulating hills, barely discernible in the gloom,that are the downs. It was a wonderfully calm evening, with only agentle west wind blowing, and the moon already shining faintly in thedark sky. There was nothing beyond the sound of the mare's hoofs tobreak the beautiful stillness of it all.
He rode for some way without meeting a soul, and when at the end of anhour someone did chance along the road it was only a labourer returninghome to his supper after a long day in the fields. John bade him acheery good evening and watched him pass on down the road humming.
After that he met no one. He rode easily along for miles, into thefast-gathering darkness. He was frowning as he rode, thinking.
Curiously enough, it was on his penniless days in France that his minddwelt this evening. He had resolutely thrust that dark time behind him,determined to forget it, but there were still days when, try as hemight, he could not prevent his thoughts flying back to it.
With clenched teeth he recalled the days when he, the son of an Earl,had taught fencing in Paris for a living.... Suddenly he laughedharshly, and at the unusual sound the mare pricked up her ears andsidled uneasily across the road. For once no notice was taken of her,and she quickened her pace with a flighty toss of her head....
He thought how he, the extravagant John, had pinched and scraped andsaved rather than go under; how he had lived in one of the poorer_quartiers_ of the city, alone, without friends--nameless.
Then, cynically now, he reviewed the time when he had taken to drinking,heavily and systematically, and had succeeded in pulling himself up atthe very brink of the pit he saw yawning before him.
Next the news of his mother's death.... John passed over that quickly.Even now the thought of it had the power of rousing in him all the oldmisery and impotent resentment.
His mind sped on to his Italian days. On his savings he had travelled toFlorence, and from there he went gradually south, picking up all thelatest arts and subtleties of fence on the way.
The change of scene and of people did much to restore his spirits. Hisdevil-may-care ways peeped out again; he started to gamble on the littlemoney he had left. For once Fortune proved kind; he doubled a
nd trebledand quadrupled the contents of his purse. Then it was that he met JimSalter, whom he engaged as his servant. This was the first friend sincehe had left England. Together they travelled about Europe, John gamblinghis way, Jim keeping a relentless hand on the exchequer. It was entirelyowing to his watchfulness and care that John was not ruined, for hisluck did not always hold good, and there were days when he lost withdistressing steadiness. But Jim guarded the winnings jealously, andthere was always something to fall back on.