She shot another glance over Martin's shoulder at the slim form of Phil Marsham and went away smiling.
Few in the stable looked twice at the two strangers in worn coats and dusty shoes who entered and sat on a bench by the wall, for there is as much pride of place in a stable as in a palace. There was talk of racing and hunting and fairs, and the beasts champed their oats, and everywhere was the smell of horses and harness. Presently there came from the inn a coachman in livery and him they greeted with nods and good-morrows, for he was sleek and well fed and, after a manner, haughty, which commanded their respect. He sat down among them affably, as one conscious of his place in the world but desiring—provided they recognized him as a man of position—to be magnanimous to all; and after inquiring into the welfare of his horses he spoke of the weather and the roads.
"Hast come far?" a wrinkled old man asked.
"Aye, from Larwood."
"The horses stood the day's travel well?"
"Aye, they are good beasts. But much depends on proper handling. It makes a deal of difference who holds the reins." He looked about with an air of generous patronage. "That, and their meat." He nodded toward one of the men. "'Tis well, though, when at night they are well fed, to fill the rack with barley-straw or wheat ere leaving them, as I showed thee, that perceiving it is not pleasant they may lie down and take their rest, which is in itself as good as meat for the next day's work."
A general murmur of assent greeted this observation.
"Goest far?" another asked.
"Aye, to Lincoln."
A rumble of surprise ran about the stable and the deference of the stablemen visibly increased.