And accordingly I was introduced to a little fat, round, jolly-looking cob, about fourteen hands high, who appeared to me an equine counterpart of Coleman himself. After having duly praised and patted him I turned to leave the stable, just as Cumberland and Snaffles were passing the door, and I caught the following words from the latter, who appeared rather excited:—
“Well, if any harm comes of it, Mr. Cumberland, you'll remember it's your doing, not mine”.
Cumberland's reply was inaudible, and Snaffles turned to me, saying:—
“I've only one horse at home likely to suit you, sir; you'll find her rather high-couraged, but Mr. Cumberland tells me you won't mind that”.
“I have been mentioning what a good rider you say you are,” said Cumberland, laying a slight emphasis on the say.
“Oh, I daresay she will do very well,” replied I. “I suppose she has no vice about her.”
“Oh dear, no,” said Snaffles, “nothing of the sort.—James,” added he, calling to a helper, “saddle the chestnut mare, and bring her out directly.”
The man whom he addressed, and who was a fellow with a good-humoured, honest face, became suddenly grave, as he replied in a deprecatory tone:—
“The chestnut mare? Mad Bess, sir?”
“Don't repeat my words, but do as you are told,” was the answer; and the man went away looking surly.