"First-rate," said Garth, touching his hat; "they have picked Buffalo up wonderful, and he is fit to go anywhere."
Hardy mounted his horse. His mother had sent over his hunting breeches, and when mounted, the Pastor was struck with the manly figure of the quiet-mannered Englishman.
"The horse will not take even such a jump as your garden wall," said Hardy, "in cold blood. I will give him a gallop down the field below, and then bring him up and jump the wall. You will see the grand spread of his stride as he gallops."
Hardy rode like an English country gentleman accustomed to the saddle, and the great wide strides taken by Buffalo even the Pastor observed with astonishment. Suddenly Hardy turned and came at the garden wall, with Buffalo well in hand, who rose to the jump and cleared it easily, and out through a break in the shrubbery over the wall at the other side.
Hardy rode quietly in through the entrance gate and dismounted. It was clear, by the demeanour of the English groom, that he saw nothing unusual in what had passed; but it was very different with the Danish family. The boys cheered, but Frøken Helga had disappeared.
"If you were not accustomed to do this," said the Pastor, "I should consider it was not right to risk so good a horse and your own limbs. A fall must be dangerous to you and your horse."
"Yes; a fall would be, and is," said Hardy. "I have broken my arm and a collar-bone by falls when hunting."
"Now, Herr Pastor," added Hardy, "you will see the difference between my English horse and one of the best horses we could buy here."
"He can't jump a yard, master," said Garth; "it is no use trying him."
Hardy mounted the Danish horse, and the difference was apparent in pace and action.