“How do you do, sir?” responded Mr. Barton, instantly flattered by the title, to which he had no legitimate right. “I believe,” he added, “you have the advantage of me.”
A broad smile, or rather grin, spread over the stranger's face. His teeth flashed, and his eyes shot forth a bright, malicious ray. He hesitated a moment, ran rapidly over the faces of the others without perceptibly moving his head, and noting the general curiosity, said, at last:—
“I hardly expected to find an acquaintance in this neighborhood, but a chase makes quick fellowship. I happened to hear of it at the Anvil Tavern,—am on my way to the Rising Sun; so, you see, if the hunt goes down Tuffkenamon, as is likely, it's so much of a lift on the way.”
“All right,—glad to have you join us. What did you say your name was?” inquired Mr. Barton.
“I didn't say what; it's Fortune,—a fortune left to me by my father, ha! ha! Don't care if I do”—
With the latter words, Fortune (as we must now call him) leaned down from his saddle, took the black bottle from the unresisting hands of Mr. Ferris, inverted it against his lips, and drank so long and luxuriously as to bring water into the mouths of the spectators. Then, wiping his mouth with the back of his freckled hand, he winked and nodded his head approvingly to Mr. Barton.
Meanwhile the other horseman had arrived from the meadow, after dismounting and letting down the bars, over which his horse stepped slowly and cautiously,—a circumstance which led some of the younger guests to exchange quiet, amused glances. Gilbert Potter, however, received a hearty greeting from all, including the host, though the latter, by an increased shyness in meeting his gaze, manifested some secret constraint.
“I was afraid I should have been too late,” said Gilbert; “the old break in the hedge is stopped at last, so I came over the hill above, without thinking on the swampy bit, this side.”
“Breaking your horse in to rough riding, eh?” said Mr. Ferris, touching a neighbor with his elbow.
Gilbert smiled good-humoredly, but said nothing, and a little laugh went around the circle. Mr. Fortune seemed to understand the matter in a flash. He looked at the brown, shaggy-maned animal, standing behind its owner, with its head down, and said, in a low, sharp tone: “I see—where did you get him?”