CHAPTER X.—“EQUO NE CREDITE TEUCRI.”—(Virgil)
“W hy didn’t you hold in your horse, Alice, and ride at a proper lady-like pace, instead of tearing along in that extraordinary manner?” inquired Mr. Hazlehurst, coming up very red in the face, hot, and discomposed; both himself and the cob being entirely out of that useful article, breath.
“I could not contrive to make him go slower, papa,” replied poor Alice, timidly; “even now you see he is very fidgetty, and keeps continually pulling.” This was perfectly true; for the horse, excited by its gallop, began to demonstrate its real character, and refusing to walk, sidled along, tossing its head impatiently, pricking up its ears at every sound, and looking as if it were prepared to shy upon the very slightest provocation.
“Pulling!—yes, of course it does,” rejoined Mr. Hazlehurst, angrily; “you can’t expect to hold a fine, high-couraged animal like that with the snaffle only—tighten the curb-rein directly. Take care what you are doing!—steady! horse, steady!—touch him with the whip on the shoulder. Bless me! she’ll be thrown!”
While Mr. Hazlehurst was speaking they had, in turning a corner, come suddenly upon a wheelbarrow, in which were deposited two jackets and a hat, belonging to some men who were mending the road. The moment Alice’s horse caught sight of this object it stopped short, and as, in obedience to her father’s directions, the frightened girl jerked the curb-rein, and struck the animal with her whip, it reared, and at the same time plunged round so suddenly as to unseat its rider. Fortunately, Coverdale had kept as near to her as possible, and by a quick motion of the bridle-hand and touch with the spur, he caused his horse to turn at the same moment as did that on which Alice was mounted; he was thus enabled to pass his arm round her waist and prevent her from falling.
“Is your foot clear of the stirrup?” he inquired, hastily. Perceiving that it was so, he continued, “Let go the rein, then, and trust yourself entirely to me.” As he spoke, the groom came up, and catching the bridle of the plunging horse, led it away; while Mr. Hazlehurst, descending from his saddle with a greater degree of celerity than might have been expected from a man of his age and stoutness, received his daughter in his arms, and lifted her to the ground;—for which feat of agility, Harry, who was by no means impatient to be relieved of his lovely burthen, mentally anathematised him. Then ensued a great confusion of tongues; Mr. Hazlehurst, being himself chiefly to blame, evinced his penitence by accusing everybody else, especially the groom—an old favourite retainer, who held and expressed a strong ungrammatical and illogical opinion, diametrically opposed to his master’s, on all subjects, divine, moral, and physical. At length, in utter despair of attaining any practical result, Harry, muttering to himself his surprise that people would not adopt his system, and strike out for themselves a quiet way of doing things, coolly took the matter into his own hands, by shifting Alice’s saddle to the back of the cob; when he had completed this arrangement, and assisted the young lady to mount, he politely held Sir Lancelot’s stirrup for the accommodation of Mr. Hazlehurst, observing—
“He will carry you just as quietly and easily as your own horse, sir; he is a hand or two higher, certainly; but if you should take a sudden fancy to leap the next stiff fence you come to, he’ll carry you over it like a bird; so you must set the good against the evil.”
“You’re very kind, sir. Ugh! what a height the brute is!”—(these words accompanied the effort of literally climbing to the saddle)—“But—but—I’ve dropped my pocket-handkerchief—thank-you. What are you going to ride yourself?”