Yet to this danger from which he himself shrank in dread he had exposed his cousin, when he could easily have saved him from it. It was proof of his cold and selfish wickedness that he could do this without being visited by reproaches of conscience.
For several miles Bucephalus behaved unusually well. But at length he began to show signs of the insubordinate spirit that possessed him. They came to a turn in the road; Jasper took the turn, but Bucephalus preferred to go straight on. He shook his head viciously, and snorted defiantly.
"It's coming," thought Jasper, and for the first time he did feel a little pity for his companion.
"Won't he turn?" he asked.
"He don't want to, but he will," said Gilbert, coolly.
He pulled the right rein in a firm, decided way. Bucephalus reared, and began to dance round.
"Is that your game?" said Gilbert. "We'll see who will be master."
"Is that your game?" said Gilbert. "We'll see who will be master."—Page 221.
He sawed away at the horse's mouth with no mercy. Bucephalus was enraged. He could hardly understand the presumption of the rider, who was daring enough to defy him to his worst. He was accustomed to inspire fear in his rider, and his spirit was up. He indulged in worse antics, when he was astonished and maddened by a terrible lashing from the whip in Gilbert's hand.