“That is our horses, Jack and Jill; where are they going?”
Louie’s eyes were full of tears which she could not keep back, as she told him that Jack and Jill had been sold with the carriage, and were being driven away.
“Sold to whom?” he asked.
“Godfrey Sheldon,” she replied. “He offered so big a price that Mr. Blake advised us to take it. Do you care?”
“No,” he said. “Nothing matters now for me, but I would like to see my bays once more. Do you think you could help me to the window?”
“I’ll try,” Louie replied, and stepping from his bed he tottered to the window just as the carriage reached the highway.
Jack and Jill had not been exercised for some time and their heads were high in the air and it was with difficulty the driver could keep them from breaking into a run in their delight to be out again.
“Beautiful bays! I hope Mr. Sheldon will be kind to them. They have never had a blow from me. They wouldn’t know what it meant,” Mr. Grey said, and Louie replied, “He will be kind; he told me so, and promised faithfully not to cut off their tails, as is the cruel fashion of the day, or curb them with one of those straight checks which fret them so. I never see a horse with his head reined so high that he can almost see his own back that I do not wish his master was obliged to have his head pulled back, while he was driven up hill and down, in heat and cold, dragging heavy loads after him and trying in vain to ease his aching neck.”
“Yes, yes, Mr. Grey answered feebly. “It is wicked; it is cruel; and I am glad Jack and Jill will not be subjected to it. Good-bye, my pets, good-bye. I shall never see you again.”
He waved his hands towards his horses just disappearing from sight and then went back to bed, where he lay for a while very quiet. Then he roused up and said: