"Slingsby!" cried his Lordship, "look to that black demon of yours!"
"He is no concern of mine, Devenham," replied the Captain airily,
"sold him, b'gad!"
"And I bought him," added Barnabas.
"You did?" the Viscount exclaimed, "in heaven's name, what for?"
"To ride--"
"Eh? my dear fellow!"
"I should like to try him for the race on the fifteenth, if it could
be managed, Dick."
"The race!" exclaimed the Viscount, staring.
"I 've been wondering if you could--get me entered for it," Barnabas
went on, rather diffidently, "I'd give anything for the chance."
"What--with that brute! my dear fellow, are you mad?"
"No, Dick."
"But he's unmanageable, Bev; he's full of vice--a killer--look at
him now!"
And indeed at this moment, as if to bear out this character, up went
the great, black head again, eyes rolling, teeth gleaming, and ears
laid back.
"I tell you, Bev, no one could ride that devil!" the Viscount
repeated.
"But," said Barnabas, "I've bet your friend Captain Slingsby that I
could."
"It would be madness!" exclaimed the Viscount. "Ha! look out!
There--I told you so!" For in that moment the powerful animal reared
suddenly--broke from the grip of one ostler, and swinging the other
aside, stood free, and all was confusion. With a warning shout, the
old groom sprang to his head, but Barnabas was beside him, had
caught the hanging reins, and swung himself into the saddle.
"I've got him, sir," cried Martin, "find yer stirrups!"
"Your stick," said Barnabas, "quick, man! Now--let go!"
For a moment the horse stood rigid, then reared again, up and
up--his teeth bared, his forefeet lashing; but down came the heavy
stick between the flattened ears, once--twice, and brought him to
earth again.
And now began a struggle between the man and the brute--each young,
each indomitable, for neither had as yet been mastered, and
therefore each was alike disdainful of the other. The head of the
horse was high and proud, his round hoofs spurned the earth beneath,
fire was in his eye, rage in his heart--rage and scorn of this
presumptuous Two-legs who sought to pit his puny strength against
his own quivering, four-legged might. Therefore he mocked Two-legs,
scorned and contemned him, laughed ha! ha! (like his long-dead
ancestor among the Psalmist's trumpets) and gathered himself
together--eager for the battle.
But the eyes of Barnabas were wide and bright, his lips were curved,
his jaw salient--his knees gripped tight, and his grasp was strong
and sure upon the reins.
And now Four-legs, having voiced his defiance, tossed his crest on
high, then plunged giddily forward, was checked amid a whirlwind of
lashing hoofs, rose on his hind legs higher and higher, swinging
giddily round and round, felt a stunning blow, staggered, and
dropping on all fours, stove in the stable door with a fling of his
hind hoofs. But the eyes of Barnabas were glowing, his lips still
curved, and his grip upon the reins was more masterful. And, feeling
all this, Four-legs, foaming with rage, his nostrils flaring, turned
upon his foe with snapping teeth, found him out of reach, and so
sought to play off an old trick that had served him more than once;
he would smash his rider's leg against a post or wall, or brush him
off altogether and get rid of him that way. But lo! even as he leapt
in fulfilment of this manoeuvre, his head was wrenched round,
further and further, until he must perforce, stop--until he was
glaring up into the face above, the face of his bitter foe, with its
smiling mouth, its glowing eye, its serene brow.