As the ladies had retired to dress for the hunt, and as I felt no peculiar desire to ally myself with the unsocial captain, I accompanied Matthew to the stable to look after the cattle, and make preparations for the coming sport.
“There’s Captain Hammersley’s mare,” said Matthew, as he pointed out a highly bred but powerful English hunter. “She came last night; for as he expected some sport, he sent his horses from Dublin on purpose. The others will be here to-day.”
“What is his regiment?” said I, with an appearance of carelessness, but in reality feeling curious to know if the captain was a cavalry or infantry officer.
“The —th Light Dragoons,”
“You never saw him ride?” said I.
“Never; but his groom there says he leads the way in his own country.”
“And where may that be?”
“In Leicestershire, no less,” said Matthew.
“Does he know Galway?”
“Never was in it before. It’s only this minute he asked Moses Daly if the ox-fences were high here.”