The Amateur Gentleman

It was well on in the afternoon when Barnabas, booted and spurred,

stepped out into the sunshine where old Gabriel Martin walked

"The Terror" to and fro before the door.

"Very glad to see you out and about again, sir," said he, beaming of

face and with a finger at his grizzled temple.

"Thank you, Martin."

"And so is the 'oss, sir--look at 'im!" And indeed the great, black

horse had tossed up his lofty crest and stood, one slender fore-leg

advanced and with sensitive ears pricked forward, snuffing at

Barnabas as he came slowly down the steps.

"He doesn't seem to have taken any hurt from the last race we had

together," said Barnabas.

"'Arm, sir--lord, no--not a bit, never better! There's a eye for you,

there's a coat! I tell you, sir, 'e's in the very pink, that 'e is."

"He does you great credit, Martin."

"Sir," said Martin as Barnabas prepared to mount, "sir, I hear as

you ain't thinking of going back to town?"

"To the best of my belief, no, Martin."

"Why, then, sir," said the old groom, his face clouding, "p'r'aps I

'd better be packing up my bits o' traps, sir?"

"Yes, Martin, I think you had," answered Barnabas, and swung himself

somewhat awkwardly into the saddle.

"Very good, sir!" sighed old Martin, his gray head drooping.

"I done my best for the 'oss and you, sir, but I know I'm a bit too

old for the job, p'r'aps, and--"

But at this moment Peterby approached.

"Sir," he inquired, a little anxiously, "do you feel able--well

enough to ride--alone?"

"Why, bless you, John, of course I do. I'm nearly well," answered

Barnabas, settling his feet in the stirrups, "and that reminds me,

you will discharge all the servants--a month's wages, John, and shut

up this place as soon as possible. As for Martin here, of course you

will bring him with you if he will come. We shall need him hereafter,

shan't we, John? And perhaps we'd better offer him another ten shillings

a week considering he will have so many more responsibilities

on the farm."

So saying, Barnabas waved his hand, wheeled his horse, and rode off

down the drive; but, glancing back, when he had gone a little way,

he saw that Peterby and the old groom yet stood looking after him,

and in the face of each was a brightness that was not of the sun.

On rode Barnabas, filling his lungs with great draughts of the balmy

air and looking about him, eager-eyed. And thus, beholding the

beauty of wooded hill and dale, already mellowing to Autumn, the

heaviness was lifted from his spirit, his drooping back grew straight,

and raising his eyes to the blue expanse of heaven, he gloried that

he was alive.