"Why do you call her pushkeen? It is a very ugly name. She's nothing whatever but a little French shopgirl. I told you so my own self, Malachi."
"Did ye now? Well, ye see I wasn't listening. I never listen to untruths."
"But this isn't an untruth. Oh, my, Malachi—I'm—I'm frightened!"
"Whatever are ye frightened about, Miss Raynes of England? Maybe as you are so uncommon brave, we might try a bit of cross-country riding. Why there you are again, jumping like anything. Whatever has come to ye? It seems to me you are a sort of cuckoo in the nest of the Rayneses."
"I'm not, indeed I'm not. But he does jump so. See, look for yourself. Oh, please, Malachi, hold him. He doesn't like me; he's got a wicked sort of spirit in him."
"Maybe his saddle isn't easy," said Malachi. "You sit still and I'll settle it. For the Lord's sake don't let him think you are afraid of him or you are done, done black and blue."
Malachi slipped off Brian the Brave and without in the least disturbing Tilly managed to push the pin a little further out so that it might work a surer and a graver mischief.
"Now we are all right," he said, jumping on his own gallant steed. "Go it Starlight, old boy, why it's one of the Rayneses you have got on your back. Think of that, Starlight, old chap!"
Starlight certainly did think of it and thought of it with growing passion and indignation. The pin had now thoroughly worked its way through his satiny hide and he was altogether beside himself with rage.