XII.
WHAT THE PATROLLERS SAW AND HEARD.
The scheme which Aaron had conceived, and which he proposed to carry out without delay, was bold, and yet very simple,—simple, that is to say, from his point of view. It came into his mind while he was in Little Crotchet's room, and fashioned itself as he went whistling to the horse lot in full view of George Gossett.
He swung himself over the fence, and made directly for Timoleon's stable. The Black Stallion heard some one fumbling about the door, and breathed hard through his nostrils, making a low, fluttering sound, as high-spirited horses do when they are suspicious or angry. It was a fair warning to any and all who might dare to open the door and enter that stable.
"So!" said Aaron; "that is the welcome you give to all who may come to make you comfortable."
At the sound of that voice, Timoleon snorted cheerfully and whinnied, saying: "Change places with me, Son of Ben Ali, and then see who will warn all comers. Why, the ox has better treatment, and the plow mule is pampered. What am I that my food should be thrown at me through the cracks? The man that fed me comes no more."
"He is where your teeth and your temper put him, Grandson of Abdallah. But there is to be a change. This night you go to your new house, where everything is fresh and clean and comfortable. And you are to learn to hold a bit in your mouth and a man on your back, as Abdallah before you did."
"That is nothing, Son of Ben Ali. Then I can gallop, and smell the fresh air from the fields. What man am I to carry, Son of Ben Ali?"
"Let the White-Haired Master settle that, Grandson of Abdallah. This night, before you go to your new house, you are to have a run with me."