“‘I fear I couldn’t,’ said I,—‘the thing is too sure—the wager would be an unfair one.’
“‘Oh! as to that,’ cried three or four together, ‘we’ll take our chance, for even if we were to lose, it’s well worth paying for.’
“The more I expressed my dislike to bet, the more warmly they pressed me, and I could perceive that a general impression was spreading that my pony was about as apocryphal as many of my previous stories.
“‘Ten pounds with you, he doesn’t do it,’ said an old hard-featured squire.
“‘The same from me,’ cried another.
“‘Two to one in fifties,’ shouted a third, until every man at table had proffered his wager, and I gravely called for pen, ink, and paper, and booked them, with all due form.
“‘Now, when is it to come off?’ was the question of some half dozen.
“‘Now, if you like it—the night seems fine.’
“‘No, no,’ said they, laughing, ‘there’s no such hurry as that; to-morrow we are going to draw Westenra’s cover—what do you say if you meet us there, by eight o’clock—and we’ll decide the bet.’
“‘Agreed,’ said I; and shaking hands with the whole party, I folded up my paper, placed it in my pocket, and wished them good night.