One day he hailed a hansom, and before stepping into it was giving the cabman the address, when the horse grew suddenly restive and uttered a strange whinnying sound.
“What's the matter with yer?” cried the cabman, giving the animal a touch of the whip.
“Don't beat him! He's all right!” said Mr. Northcote, coming to the horse's head.
Again came the strange whinny, and the deep velvety eyes looked into Mr. Northcote's like those of a human being; and they spoke to him, too, as plainly as words could speak: “Dear master! Don't you know me? I'm your poor old Firefly!”
“Firefly! It's Firefly! My beauty!”
And then, to the cabman's great astonishment. Mr. Northcote laid his cheek against the horse's nose.
“To think you should have come down to this, Firefly,” he murmured, with something very like tears in his eyes. Firefly whinnied again softly.
The poor horse had changed masters several times, and had had a hard life the last few years; but all his troubles were over at last.
Of course Mr. Northcote bought him from the cabman, and three months later, when the beautiful spirited animal was galloping round the fields, it was hard to believe he had ever been a cab-horse!