'Why—what happens then?'
'What happens, is it? Maybe it's your neck is broke, or your thigh, or your collar-bone at least. He 'll give you a straight plunge up in the air, about ten feet high, throw his head forward till he either pulls the reins out of your hands or lifts you out of the saddle, and at the same moment he'll give you a blow with his hind-quarters in the small of the back. Och, murther!' said he, placing both hands upon his loins, and writhing as he spoke, 'it'll be six weeks to-morrow since he made one of them buck-leaps with me, and I never walked straight since. But that is not all.'
'Come, come,' said I impatiently, 'this is all nonsense; he only wants a man with a little pluck to bully him out of all this.'
As I said these valorous words I own that to my own heart I didn't exactly correspond to the person I described; but as the bottle of port was now finished, I set forth with my companion to pay my first visit to this redoubted animal.
The mill where the stable lay was about a mile from the town; but the night was a fine moonlight one, with not an air of wind stirring, and the walk delightful When we reached the little stream that turned the mill, over which a plank was thrown as a bridge, we perceived that a country lad was walking a pair of saddle-horses backwards and forwards near the spot. The suspicion of some trickery, some tampering with the horse, at once crossed me; and I hinted as much to the groom.
'No, no,' said he, laughing, 'make your mind easy about that. Mr. Ulick Burke knows the horse well, and he'll leave it all to himself.'
The allusion was a pleasant one; but I said nothing, and walked on.
Having procured a lantern at the mill, the groom preceded me to the little outhouse, which acted as stable. He opened the door cautiously, and peeped in.
'He's lying down,' said he to me in a whisper, and at the same moment taking the candle from the lantern, he held it up to permit my obtaining a better view. 'Don't be afeard,' continued he, 'he 'll not stir now, the thief of the earth! When once he's down that way, he lies as peaceable as a lamb.'
As well as I could observe him, he was a magnificent horse—a little too heavy perhaps about the crest and forehand, but then so strong behind, such powerful muscle about the haunches, that his balance was well preserved. As I stood contemplating him in silence, I felt the breath of some one behind me. I turned suddenly around; it was Father Tom Loftus himself. There was the worthy priest, mopping his forehead with a huge pocket-handkerchief and blowing like a rhinoceros.