‘Isn’t he perfect?’ asked the captain, contemplating his purchase with the eye of pride.
‘He is lovely, and I don’t know how to thank you,’ answered Bella, watching the black’s restless eyeball; ‘but isn’t he dreadfully high-spirited? You know I don’t pretend to be a Diana Vernon.’
‘You could not do anything badly if you tried,’ said the captain. ‘Don’t be alarmed. Erebus has a lovely temper. With your light little hand on his snaffle, and with a comfortable bit in his mouth, he’ll go as gently as a Shetland pony.’
‘Is he called Erebus?’
‘Yes, he was sold under that name. You can change it if you like.’
‘No, I think it’s rather a good name,’ answered Bella, patting Erebus’s velvet nose, a liberty which he endured with perfect affability. ‘It isn’t common.’
The Miss Porkmans’ horses were called Prince and Daisy.
The cause of the hump-like appearance which had puzzled Bella was a very handsome side-saddle of quilted doeskin—quite the perfection of a saddle.
‘I ventured to have him measured for a saddle directly I decided on buying him for you,’ explained the captain. ‘The saddlers had to work day and night to get it finished by yesterday evening. You must please to accept the saddle as my humble offering.’
‘Oh, I really couldn’t,’ exclaimed Bella. ‘It’s too good of you, but I’m sure Mr. Piper would not allow——’