"I'm no spoil-sport," said Gustav.
The drafts were put into the pocket-books of the three gentlemen, in exchange for the notes, which Brandow, with a sarcastic smile, crushed like pieces of waste paper, and thrust into his pocket just as the Assessor entered.
His appearance afforded Brandow a welcome pretext for breaking up the dinner-party, which had already in his opinion lasted too long. It had stopped raining; would they not prefer to drink their coffee in the cool garden, instead of that close room? He expected to find Gotthold in the garden, and was not mistaken. They met him walking up and down in one of the most out-of-the-way paths. He said nothing when Brandow spoke of his return as a surprise he had prepared for his guests, and apologized for his non-appearance on plea of a violent headache, which often attacked him suddenly, and he had hoped to shake off before presenting himself to the company. The two Plüggens were delighted to see their old school-fellow, whom they had always cordially hated, and Herr Redebas esteemed it an honor to make the acquaintance of such a famous man, although it was very evident that he had not the least idea in what particular branch of human activity Gotthold had won his renown. The Pastor, upon whom he was accustomed to depend at such times, unfortunately could give him no information, because he had just thrust his arm into the Assessor's, whom he met that day for the first time, and was assuring him of his eternal friendship. The Assessor laughed and was good-natured enough to laugh again, when Hans Redebas, to display his much-admired strength, raised the pair in his arms and carried them around the open space, thereby inciting Otto von Plüggen to take out his silk pocket-handkerchief, and holding it by the two corners, jump over it forward and backward, while Gustav, in laudable emulation of his ingenious brother, balanced a garden chair on his lower teeth.
"Now I should like to show you my trick," cried Brandow, "and therefore will beg you to follow me a few steps."
He went forward and opened a little door in the hedge, which led directly into the open space where he trained his racers. It was a tolerably large piece of ground, selected with great discrimination, and prepared with much skill for the purpose for which it was intended. There were wide and narrow ditches, low and high fences, broad stretches of smooth, closely-shaven turf to permit the horse to display his full speed, and heavy fallow ground for a hunting gallop. Brandow had inclosed three sides of this space, the fourth of which was occupied by the stables, with a board fence the height of a man, and kept it jealously secluded from every one. Now he rejoiced in the glances of envious admiration the three landed proprietors cast around them. But he had a still greater annoyance in store. As the little party moved towards the stables, Hinrich Scheel came forward to meet them, leading Brownlock. The beautiful animal champed his bit impatiently, rubbed his delicate head against the shoulder of his groom, and then once more gazed at the by-standers with his large black eyes, as if to ask each who would have courage to cope with him.
"Well, gentlemen," cried Brandow, "you had a great desire to ride Brownlock; there he is. I'll bet ten louis-d'or to one, that none of you can even mount him."
"I shouldn't like to break the beast's back," muttered Hans Redebas.
Otto Plüggen had sprained his foot in leaping, but Gustav thought he could easily win the ten louis-d'or.
Gustav von Plüggen was universally acknowledged to be a good rider, and had gained the prize more than once in the Sundin races. He did not doubt for an instant that he should win the bet, but nevertheless thought it advisable to go to work with all possible caution. So he walked around the horse to render it familiar with the sight of him, patted the slender neck, scratched its smooth forehead, and then, still talking to the animal, gently took the reins and told Hinrich Sheel to stand aside. But the moment he touched the stirrup with his foot, Brownlock sprang aside so violently, that Gustav was glad even to retain his hold upon the bridle. Again and again he made the attempt, always with the same want of success.
"I could have told you so before," cried Herr Redebas.