What was to be done now?
“This is a turn I did not bargain for,” said John Cook, “and I have written to Laud to say you will be, without fail, at the place I shall tell you of when you are once mounted. A horse we came for, and a horse we will have, for I would not disappoint the captain for a hundred horses; so follow me, Margaret.”
The girl hesitated, and inquired what it was he proposed to do.
“Not many yards off, in yonder stable, there are two noble horses that are worth riding; you shall take one of them.”
“Do you mean the carriage-horses? I dare not ride one of them.”
“Nonsense, girl! If you don’t come along and just do as I bid you, hang me if I don’t write to Laud, and tell him you don’t care anything about him. Come along! I must help you over the low wall against the end of the garden. Come along! You have fairly begun the work; don’t give it up.”
Margaret never wanted courage until that moment, and then she followed, trembling from head to foot.
The fellow got on to the wall and assisted her up and down. He then went across the lawn to the stable-yard with the trembling Margaret at his heels; they found the stable-door locked; but the wicket at the side, by the muck-bin, was unhanked and stood ajar. Margaret got into the stable through this place, and slipped back the bolt of the stable-door; the horses had been accustomed to her coming into the stable for straw for her fire, and she had often spoke to them and patted them, so that her voice now, as she said, “Whoho, Crop!" and “Gently, Rochford!" was familiar to them; and they did not rise up until John Cook entered and began to strike a light.
“Now, Margaret, pull the litter down toward the stable-door, whilst I just look into the harness-house.”