Nelly laughed. "When you know our country better," said she, "you will find out that a mile in distance with a coombe to cross, sometimes means a good half hour's-ride. Let us go and meet them," she added, putting Cowslip into a canter. "Here comes my aversion, Master Gale."
The Parson, mounted on his staunch black nag, was within a bow-shot, trotting softly through the heather, husbanding strength for the exertions of the day. Even to John Garnet's eyes, prejudiced as he was by Nelly's dislike, there seemed much to admire in the bearing of man and horse. The free, stealing action, the close and easy seat, the light hand, the well-bitted mouth, the confidence of the one, the docility of the other, and the good understanding prevailing between them, argued a partnership that prided itself on encountering difficulties and setting danger at defiance in concert.
"He looks like business, that parson of yours," said John Garnet to his companion, as they bounded away together; "if he's half as good in the pulpit as he seems in the saddle they ought to make him a bishop!"
Nelly's only answer was a little grimace of disgust, followed by a loving smile.
Meeting the assemblage of stag-hunting sportsmen, already increased by fresh arrivals, who turned up from every quarter as if they were the natural growth of the moor, John Garnet could not but observe that many a practised eye travelled approvingly over the symmetrical shape of Katerfelto ere it rested on the better known beauty of Mistress Carew. The honest squires whispered each other with nods, winks, and looks of intelligence.
"'Tis a rare bit of horseflesh!" said one in a faded scarlet hunting-frock with tarnished lace. "Strong as a yoke of bullocks, and light as a January brocket. Seems to me, neighbour, I've seen that nag before."
"Like enough," was the answer. "Thof I never thought to clap eyes on's rider again. That's the lad robbed Sir Humphrey and his three varlets single-handed a twelvemonth gone last Whitsuntide, by Upcot Sheepwash, and showed six hours afterwards in the market at Taunton town. It's fifty miles, squire, if it's a furlong. Aye, aye, a good horse, neighbour, and a bad trade."
"I heard tell he was hanged!" said the listener, opening round eyes of astonishment.
"He did ought to have been," replied the other. "But Galloping Jack had good friends in the West, and a good friend he's been himself, not so long ago neither, to one or two honest fellows you and me would be main vexed to see called to account. Live and let live, says I, but if we find a right stag in yonder hazels who knows his way to the sea, why, that grey horse and his rider are bound to be at one end of the hunt, and I leave it to you, neighbour, to say which!"
With these words he dismounted heavily to adjust girths and bridle, for Red Rube was already in close confabulation with the huntsman, and business seemed about to begin.