"Time's up!" cried the Captain, suddenly; "b'gad, sir, you win the
bet!" But Barnabas scarcely heard.
"You've done it--you win; eleven and a half minutes, b'gad!" roared
the Captain again--"don't you hear, sir?--come off, before he breaks
your neck!"
But Barnabas only shook his head, and, dropping the stick, leaned
over and laid his hand upon that proud, defiant crest, a hand grown
suddenly gentle, and drew it down caressingly from ear to quivering
nostril, once, twice, and spoke words in a soft tone, and so,
loosed the cruel grip upon the rein, and sat back--waiting. But
Four-legs had become thoughtful; true, he still tossed his head
and pawed an impatient hoof, but that was merely for the sake of
appearances--Four-legs was thoughtful. No one had ever touched him so,
before--indeed blows had latterly been his portion--but this
Two-legs was different from his kind, besides, he had a pleasing
voice--a voice to soothe ragged nerves--there it was again! And then
surely, the touch of this hand awoke dim memories, reminded him of
far-off times when two-legged creatures had feared him less; and
there was the hand again! After all, things might be worse--the hand
that could be so gentle could be strong also; his mouth was sore yet,
and a strong man, strong-handed and gentle of voice, was better
than--oh, well!
Whether of all this, or any part of it, the great, black horse was
really thinking, who shall say? Howbeit Barnabas presently turned in
his saddle and beckoned the old groom to his stirrup.
"He'll be quiet now, I think," said he.
"Ah! that he will, sir. You've larned the trick o' voice an'
hand--it ain't many as has it--must be born in a man, I reckon, an'
'tis that as does more nor all your whips and spurs, an' curb-bits,
sir. 'E'll be a babe wi' you arter this, sir, an' I'm thinkin' as
you won't be wantin' me now, maybe? I ain't young enough nor smart
enough, d' ye see."
Here Barnabas dismounted, and gave the reins into the old groom's
eager hand.
"I shan't be wanting him for--probably three or four days, Gabriel,
until then--look after him, exercise him regularly, for I'm hoping
to do great things with him, soon, Gabriel, perhaps." And so
Barnabas smiled, and as Martin led the horse to the stables, turned
to find the young Corinthian at his elbow; he had resumed hat and
coat, and now regarded Barnabas as smiling and imperturbable as ever.
"Sir," said he, "I congratulate you heartily. Sir, any friend of
Viscount Devenham is also mine, I trust; and I know your name,
and--hem!--I swear Slingsby does! Beverley, I think--hem!--son of
old Beverley, and a devilish good name too! Eh, Sling my boy?"
Hereupon the Captain limped forward, if possible redder of face than
ever, very much like a large schoolboy in fault.