CHAPTER XVI.
It had been arranged that Robert should borrow a horse from Doctor John's stables, ride it over to Gault House, and keep it there till his return to Second Westings. But as he was strolling down the village street before breakfast, he saw, in a paddock beside an unpretentious cottage, a splendid Narragansett pacer, a dark sorrel, one of the handsomest of the breed that he had ever seen. He had long coveted one of these horses, famous in all the thirteen colonies for their easy gait, speed over rough country, and unparalleled endurance. With characteristic promptness in getting to his point, he went in, interviewed the owner, tried the horse, loved it, and asked the price. The owner was not anxious to sell; but when he found out who the would-be purchaser was, and the liberal price he was ready to pay, the prospect of an immediate draft on the bank at Hartford proved irresistible, and Robert rode off with his prize. He knew horse-flesh, and did not grudge the price; and both Doctor John and Doctor Jim, who knew this sorrel pacer well, were constrained to commend the purchase, though to them it seemed that so weighty an action demanded, if but for form's sake, the tribute of delay and pondering.
"Buy a horse like that, Robert, in three shakes of a ram's tail? It's undignified!" roared Doctor Jim, eyeing the beast with unmixed approbation. "It's an insult to the horse. And it's a slight upon the value of our assistance, you cock-sure young rascal. But it's just the mulish way your father would have gone and done it, so I suppose we must forgive you."
Doctor John, meanwhile, had been handling the beast critically, and looking at its teeth.
"Worth all you gave for him, Bobby; and not a day over five years old!" was the verdict. "I see you're old enough to go about alone. Don't you mind what Jim Pigeon says. He'd have had you run to him and ask if you might have a horse of your own, and then get him and me to go down and look at the beast, and come back here and talk it all over in council, and then go back and bully Enoch Barnes some more about the price, and then all three of us ride the beast up to Mistress Mehitable's, to ask the opinion of her and Barbara on the subject, and then—"
But Robert interrupted at this point in the tirade.
"That would have been a good idea," he asserted, regretfully. "I wish I had thought to consult the ladies. But, you know, I knew that horse was just the one I'd so long been wanting the moment I set eyes on him. So I didn't dare wait, lest some one else should come along and snap him up. Of course you both know a thousand times more about horses than I do,—but I knew enough to know I wanted this one!"
"You generally seem to know what you want, Master Gault!" said Doctor Jim. "And you seem like to get it, generally, if I don't mistake the cut of you,—eh, what?"
"Tut, tut," said Doctor John, scowling upon him quizzically. "That's all very well as far as horses are concerned, and men! But wait till it comes to women, Robert. You've a lot to learn, my son. If I'm not much mistaken, you'll be taught a lot, and not spared in the teaching!"
"I'm always anxious to learn," answered Robert, modestly.
"You will! You will!" said Doctor John.
Breakfast was a substantial meal of boiled "Yokeag" with molasses, and broiled salmon, and venison cutlets, and fried ham, and rich guava jelly from the West Indies. Robert was surprised to see each of his friends preface the repast with a quart mug of the hardest and headiest old cider, he himself being accustomed to a small cup of light ale merely, or a sip of claret, at this hour. Both Doctor John and Doctor Jim assured him that there was nothing like sound cider to tone up the stomach for its day's adventures; and on their advice he tried it, though sparingly, and therefore with no tragic results.
After breakfast, he was so obviously restless that the big-hearted brothers made no effort to detain him. With heavy hands upon his shoulders, they told him to make the least possible delay in his return, and to bear in mind how warm the welcome ever awaiting him at Second Westings.
"How like to Richard in the saddle!" exclaimed Doctor John, when Robert had mounted the sorrel pacer.
"And that's a compliment not many a lad of your age could win, my son!" said Doctor John.
Robert's dark face flushed with pleasure.
"I try hard to be as like my father as possible," said he. "Don't you think I might properly ride around and pay my respects to the ladies before I leave?"
"Unquestionably you might! 'Pon my word a capital idea!" laughed Doctor Jim, with huge derision.
"Unquestionably, my boy, you would find yourself in hot water if you didn't!" said Doctor John.
So Robert, without more ado, turned the head of his Narragansett pacer toward Westings House, whose wide white gables were partly visible through the trees.
A very erect, graceful, and masterful young figure he made, as he reined in his tall sorrel before Mistress Mehitable's porch. Mistress Mehitable from her window above had seen him coming, and was on the steps to greet him. He flung himself from the saddle, kissed her hand deferentially, thanked her with fervour for her delightful hospitality,—and at the same time cast a solicitous eye about the walks and windows, wondering where Barbara could be. Mistress Mehitable had an amused smile, but would not help him. She said polite things, and assured him of the pleasure with which she would look forward to his next visit,—and even added that he had better not postpone that next visit beyond five or six days, or a week at most, as Mr. Glenowen was expected at once, and might not be able to stay long at Second Westings. But of Barbara she said not a word. Robert showed her, with pride, his sorrel pacer, related with an abstracted air the circumstances of its purchase, and enlarged upon the special merits of the breed, while Mistress Mehitable patted the silky white nose, and murmured boundless admiration. But still no sign, no word, of Barbara.
At last Robert could contain himself no longer.
"I ought to be on the road," he stammered, "but I should be sorry to leave without making my adieux to Mistress Barbara. Is she within?"
"She went out about half an hour ago!" said Mistress Mehitable, "and did not say where she was going!"
Robert's face fell so pathetically that Mistress Mehitable felt a little flush of resentment against Barbara for her cruelty.
"She left kindest messages for you," she continued, hastily. "She told me to say how sorry she was not to see you this morning, and that she would never forgive you if you did not come again to Second Westings very soon. And I was to say good-bye to you for her!"
"I thank you," said Robert, heavily. "Pray you give her my devotions, and tell her how grieved I am to be denied the privilege of paying them in person. I kiss your hand again, dear Mistress Ladd!" And with that he rode off musingly, through a morning whose sunlight had on the sudden lost its sparkle, whose spicy airs had all at once lost their zest. His pride in the new pacer, which he had hoped to show off to Barbara, was all fallen flat. He forced the restive beast to walk soberly for some moments. Then a swift heat of anger, a sense of undeserved injury, went over him. He swore he would come no more to Second Westings all that summer; and setting spurs to the willing sorrel, he tore away down the road at a pounding gallop.