Jack Hinton: The Guardsman

by Charles James Lever

'Ugh!' said he at length, 'I have been running up and down the roads this half-hour after you, and there's not a puff left in me.'

'Ah, father! I hoped to have seen you at the inn.' 'Whisht! I darn't. I thought I'd do it better my own way; but, see now, we've no time to lose. I knew as well as yourself you never intended to ride this race. No matter; don't say a word, but listen to me. I know the horse better than any one in these parts; and it isn't impossible, if you can keep the saddle over the first two or three fences, that you may win. I say, if you can—for 'faith it's not in a “swing-swong” you'll be! But, come now, the course was marked out this evening. Burke was over it before dinner; and, with a blessing, we will be before supper. I've got a couple of hacks here that'll take us over every bit of it; and perhaps it is not too much to say you might have a worse guide.'

''Faith, your reverence,' chimed in the groom, 'he'd find it hard to have a better.'

Thanking the kind priest for his good-natured solicitude, I followed him out upon the road, where the two horses were waiting us.

'There, now,' said he, 'get up; the stirrups are about your length. He looks a little low in flesh, but you'll not complain of him when he's under you.'

The next moment we were both in the saddle. Taking a narrow path that led off from the highroad, we entered a large tilled field; keeping along the headlands of which, we came to a low stone wall, through a gap of which we passed, and came out upon an extensive piece, of grassland, that gently sloped away from where we were standing to a little stream at its base, an arm of that which supplied the mill.

'Here, now,' said the priest, 'a little to the left yonder is the start. You come down this hill; you take the water there, and you keep along by Freney's house, where you see the trees there. There's only a small stone wall and a clay ditch between this and that; afterwards you turn off to the right. But, come now, are you ready? We'll explore a bit.'

As he spoke, the good priest, putting spurs to his hackney, dashed on before me, and motioning me to follow, cantered down the slope. Taking the little mill-stream at a fly, he turned in his saddle to watch my performance.

'Neat! mighty neat!' cried he, encouraging me. 'Keep your hand a little low. The next is a wall——'

Scarcely had he spoke when we both came together at a stone-fence, about three feet high. This time I was a little in advance, as my horse was fresher, and took it first.