The Amateur Gentleman

"Slingsby!" cried his Lordship, "look to that black demon of yours!"

"He is no concern of mine, Devenham," replied the Captain airily,

"sold him, b'gad!"

"And I bought him," added Barnabas.

"You did?" the Viscount exclaimed, "in heaven's name, what for?"

"To ride--"

"Eh? my dear fellow!"

"I should like to try him for the race on the fifteenth, if it could

be managed, Dick."

"The race!" exclaimed the Viscount, staring.

"I 've been wondering if you could--get me entered for it," Barnabas

went on, rather diffidently, "I'd give anything for the chance."

"What--with that brute! my dear fellow, are you mad?"

"No, Dick."

"But he's unmanageable, Bev; he's full of vice--a killer--look at

him now!"

And indeed at this moment, as if to bear out this character, up went

the great, black head again, eyes rolling, teeth gleaming, and ears

laid back.

"I tell you, Bev, no one could ride that devil!" the Viscount

repeated.

"But," said Barnabas, "I've bet your friend Captain Slingsby that I

could."

"It would be madness!" exclaimed the Viscount. "Ha! look out!

There--I told you so!" For in that moment the powerful animal reared

suddenly--broke from the grip of one ostler, and swinging the other

aside, stood free, and all was confusion. With a warning shout, the

old groom sprang to his head, but Barnabas was beside him, had

caught the hanging reins, and swung himself into the saddle.

"I've got him, sir," cried Martin, "find yer stirrups!"

"Your stick," said Barnabas, "quick, man! Now--let go!"

For a moment the horse stood rigid, then reared again, up and

up--his teeth bared, his forefeet lashing; but down came the heavy

stick between the flattened ears, once--twice, and brought him to

earth again.

And now began a struggle between the man and the brute--each young,

each indomitable, for neither had as yet been mastered, and

therefore each was alike disdainful of the other. The head of the

horse was high and proud, his round hoofs spurned the earth beneath,

fire was in his eye, rage in his heart--rage and scorn of this

presumptuous Two-legs who sought to pit his puny strength against

his own quivering, four-legged might. Therefore he mocked Two-legs,

scorned and contemned him, laughed ha! ha! (like his long-dead

ancestor among the Psalmist's trumpets) and gathered himself

together--eager for the battle.

But the eyes of Barnabas were wide and bright, his lips were curved,

his jaw salient--his knees gripped tight, and his grasp was strong

and sure upon the reins.

And now Four-legs, having voiced his defiance, tossed his crest on

high, then plunged giddily forward, was checked amid a whirlwind of

lashing hoofs, rose on his hind legs higher and higher, swinging

giddily round and round, felt a stunning blow, staggered, and

dropping on all fours, stove in the stable door with a fling of his

hind hoofs. But the eyes of Barnabas were glowing, his lips still

curved, and his grip upon the reins was more masterful. And, feeling

all this, Four-legs, foaming with rage, his nostrils flaring, turned

upon his foe with snapping teeth, found him out of reach, and so

sought to play off an old trick that had served him more than once;

he would smash his rider's leg against a post or wall, or brush him

off altogether and get rid of him that way. But lo! even as he leapt

in fulfilment of this manoeuvre, his head was wrenched round,

further and further, until he must perforce, stop--until he was

glaring up into the face above, the face of his bitter foe, with its

smiling mouth, its glowing eye, its serene brow.