Meantime let us accompany Margaret on her perilous expedition. She had actually ridden the horse from Ipswich to London in the space of eight hours and a half; it being seventy miles from that place to the Bull, in Aldgate. She only stopped once on the road, at a small public-house, called the Trowel and Hammer, at Marks Tey, in Essex; here she gave her gallant horse a feed of corn, and had a glass of brandy and water and a biscuit. It was just five o’clock when she baited. She dared not to offer the horse for sale at Chelmsford for fear of detection, at such an early hour. She felt persuaded that a pursuit would be made, and hoped to hide herself in the metropolis before her pursuers could reach her. Accordingly she allowed the horse no more time than was sufficient for him to finish his corn, and off she went again for nearly five hours’ further ride. As she approached town many were the eyes directed towards her, both on account of the remarkable character of the horse, and the singular appearance of the rider. Margaret took no notice of any one, but pushed on her willing steed with the same indifference as if she had been sent upon an errand of only a few miles; nor was the horse apparently fatigued in the least when they arrived at the Bull Inn, which they did about half-past nine o’clock.
She rode quietly down the yard, called for the ostler, dismounted, shook her trousers down, and addressed the man in as off-hand a manner as if she were a real groom.
“Rub that horse down well, and get him cool and comfortable; give him a sup of water and a mouthful of hay, and I will come and see him fed.”
“Have you rode far, young man?” asked the ostler.
“Not a very great way. I came out of Chelmsford this morning. See and rub his ears dry, ostler. You must make him look as well as you can, for I expect my master up in town to-night; and if I don’t meet with a customer for that horse he’ll blow me up.”
“He’s a very fine horse; and if as good as he looks, would be worth any man’s money.”
“He’s better than he looks, ostler: and ’tisn’t any man’s money that will buy him. He must give a good price for him, whoever buys him. But look well after him. I must go and get a bait myself.”
She went into the bar, ordered her breakfast, took up the newspaper, and with all the airs of a consequential young jockey sat down to the perusal of it. After taking some refreshment she got up to see her horse fed.
The ostler, finding so fine a horse was for sale, apprised a livery-stable-keeper of his acquaintance, who on hearing his representation hastened to look at him. Margaret was called out; the animal exhibited; under-valued by the dealer in the style so characteristic of such gentry; and his good qualifications well vouched for by the young groom.
[“Did you ever see a better shape?”] exclaimed Margaret. “Look at his fore-end; there’s a crest, there’s a shoulder, there’s a head! Look at his legs, as straight and clean as a colt’s; and as for quarters, where will you find such for strength and beauty? He’s six-year old next grass; has never done any hard work before this day; and you won’t find a puff as big as a pea in any of his sinews. Quiet to ride or drive, and without a fault. Now, what’s the matter with him?”