“We call him the ‘King of Diamonds,’” replied the groom, modestly accepting, and passing over, my compliment to his own skill, as implied in approval of the horse’s condition. “Next to him is ‘Prince Charming;’ and the chestnut mare’s name is ‘Beller Donner;’ and the bay in the far stall, he’s ‘Lady-Killer;’ that’s all our stud, sir,” he added, touching his hat. “We don’t keep any hack; they’re no use to us, hacks ain’t.”
“I suppose the grey’s the best of them,” I observed, reverting to the beautiful animal who was now being covered up once more.
“Neatest fencer of the lot,” answered the man, “and they can all go middling straight for that matter; but the Prince, he pounded of ’em all that heavy day last week in the Vale; and Beller Donner, she was the only one as got over the Bumperley Brook, down by Heel Tappington, last Thursday was a fortnight. Ah! we beat ’em all that day, we did. If it hadn’t been for a man hoeing turnips, we have had to take the fox from the hounds ourselves. We did go owdacious, to be sure! ‘The Beller,’ as I calls her, had had pretty nigh enough, I can tell you, sir. But when we do get a start, of a fine scenting morning, I’ll tell you what it is, sir—we takes no denial, and we stands for no repairs!”
Amused with the manner in which my new friend seemed to identify himself with his proprietor, I proceeded to question him further about the horses, eliciting from him their various qualifications and merits, to which he was obviously willing to do ample justice.
“You see, sir,” said he, “we rides ’em all alike; that’s where it is. We doesn’t go picking a horse for this here country, and a horse for that there; but we brings ’em out each in their turn, as regular as clockwork. Wery particular, we are; and when they are out, go they must, or we’ll know the reason why. We haven’t had Prince Charming, now, so long as the others; and the first day we rode him he seemed unaccountably shifty at large places; uneasy like, and prevaricating, and wanting to go anywhere but where we put him. Now some folks would have said, ‘This horse won’t suit at no price,’ and been dashed a little, as was natural, and so perhaps sent him back again and lost of him altogether. But that’s not our way, that isn’t. We just laid him alongside of the hounds as soon as ever they began to run, sat down upon him, catched a good hold of his head, and sailed him at his places so as he might go in or over, which he pleased; but he must do one or the t’other. The Prince seemed to take it all at once like. When we gets off him, we just gives a quiet little smile—we never laughs; and, says we, ‘I know’d he could gallop and go on, and now I’ve found out he can jump. I think we’ll keep him, John,’ says we,—My name’s John, sir,” (with a touch of his hat,)—“‘so put him in along with the others;’ and up we goes to a cup-o’ tea, and a book till bed-time.”
“That’s the way to make a hunter!” I exclaimed enthusiastically; for I confess I felt my blood stir at John’s description; “and to ride in that form, no doubt you require the very best, such as you seem to have got here.”
“We doesn’t grudge price, you see, sir,” answered John confidentially. “When we hears of what we think likely to suit, at Tattersall’s or elsewhere, we comes down with the money at once: two hundred, three hundred—no matter what, so long as they are real good ones. Now there’s Lady-Killer, (Here! Tom, take and strip that bay horse,) we bought him at The Corner, with never a character, for two hundred and fifty guineas. Know’d nothing at all about him, except that we’d seen him out, and seen him gallop. Well, Mason would have had him if we hadn’t. First day as we rode him, and first fence as we put him at, blessed if it wasn’t the park pales, up in Deersley Chase. My Lord’s hounds, they found their fox like winking, and away right over the park and amongst the fallow-deer, as if they was tied to him. What a scent there was, to be sure! Never checked nor hovered, nor seemed to take no notice of the riot; but away, with their heads up-wind, as straight and as even as the crop of my whip. Well, there was an awful scrimmage, to be sure: such a rush among the fast ones! and we was a-going slap in front of the whole on ’em, with our hands down, I can tell you. It is a pleasure to see us, sir. Three-quarters-of-a-mile of grass had just got the horses into their swing, when the hounds came to the park pales, and over, like a stream of water across a mill-dam. No time to think about it. While two or three of the tail hounds were falling back from the top, the others were rising the opposite hill, running alarming. It was a regular case of ‘jump, or else go home.’ Some of the gentlemen pulls up, and some goes shying away to look for a gate; and one—a young gent he was, from college—takes and rides at it; but his horse turns round and kicks. So there was plenty of room, you see, for anybody who wanted to go and try. We catches hold of the bay horse, very steady and determined, and we rides him at it, so that he could not have refused, if it had been ever so. I don’t think, myself, he knowed anything about timber, for he just took it with his knees, and turned completely over on the top of us. ‘Killed! by jingo!’ says my Lord, turning as white as ashes, for he had waited to see us have a drive at it afore he galloped away to the gate. ‘Worth a dozen dead ones yet, my Lord!’ says we, jumping into the saddle again as light as a feather, and away after the hounds. So from that time we called the bay horse ‘Lady-Killer,’ although I never knowed him touch a rail since, and now he’s as safe a timber-jumper as we’ve got in the stable!”
“Your master must have extraordinary nerve,” said I, somewhat aghast, I must confess, at this stirring narrative of escape and daring. “There are few men who would care to ride for a certain fall over so dangerous a fence, let hounds run as hard as they will.”
The man stared. “Men!” he repeated, “Master! I ain’t got no master: it’s my lady as I’m a talkin’ of—Miss Merlin: her that came two hours ago in a po’ chay. The prettiest rider in England, let who will be the other. Master, indeed! I should like to know the man who can see the way she goes. There’s a many of ’em that’s tried it; but bless you, she takes no more notice, but just cuts ’em down, and hangs ’em up to dry.”
It was now my turn to be surprised. I confess I had never contemplated such a possibility as this; and now it flashed upon me all at once, as these things generally do. The owner of such high-bred cattle, the reckless equestrian, to whom wood and water formed but the mere items of a pleasurable excitement, was doubtless also the mistress of the fascinating Justine. I could picture to myself the sort of person likely to combine those dashing possessions. I imagined a lady of gaudy exterior, such as I remember to have met formerly out hunting in the vicinity of London, and masculine, not to say free-and-easy manners, with a bold eye, a dab of rouge, false plaits skilfully disposed, and a loud voice, enforcing a corresponding style of language, garnished with strong expressions. I could conceive that such a dame would never be content to sit down to dinner alone at the Haycock, after the excitement of a day’s hunting, particularly as she seemed to render that amusement as thrilling a one as possible, but that she would naturally make acquaintance with its sole inmate, bid him join her quiet little repast, a pint of sherry, and a bottle of champagne between the two, and what would become of me then? Perhaps, ere twelve hours had elapsed, we might be drinking the palest brandy-and-water together, while I smoked my virgin weed, and she indulged in a coquettish little cigarette. Of course she smoked. It is the fast thing for a woman to do in these days, and most of us know what a pace they can go when they like. I saw it all, in my mind’s eye—the little shyness at first, the gradual warming from acquaintance into friendship, and from friendship to intimacy; my own misgivings, struggles, subjugation, and eventual discomfiture.