In the course of his peregrinations, the railway traveller may find
himself in some out-of-the-way place, where no regular vehicle can be
obtained to convey him to the station, and this _contretemps_ is
aggravated when the time of departure happens to be early in the morning.
Captain B—, a man of restless energy and adventurous spirit, emerged
early one morning from a hovel in a distant village, where from stress of
weather he had been compelled to pass the night. It was just dawn of
day, and within an hour of the train he wished to go by would start from
the station, about six miles distant. He had with him a portmanteau,
which it would be impossible for him to carry within the prescribed time,
but which he could not very well leave behind. Pondering on what he
should do, his eye lighted on a likely looking horse grazing in a field
hard by, while in the next field there was a line extended between two
posts, for the purpose of drying clothes upon. The sight of these
objects soon suggested the plan for him to adopt. In an instant he
detached the line, and then taking a piece of bread from his pocket,
coaxed the animal to approach him. Captain B— was an adept in the
management of horses, and as a rough rider, perhaps, had no equal. In a
few seconds he had, by the aid of a portion of the line, arranged his
portmanteau pannier-wise across the horse’s back, and forming a bridle
with the remaining portion of the line, he led his steed into the lane,
and sprang upon his back. The horse rather relished the trip than
otherwise, and what with the unaccustomed burden, and the consciousness
that he was being steered by a knowing hand, he sped onwards at a
terrific pace. While in mid career, one of the mounted police espied the
captain coming along the road at a distance; recognizing the horse, but
not knowing the rider, and noticing also the portmanteau, and the uncouth
equipment, this rural guardian of the peace came to the conclusion that
this was a case of robbery and horse stealing; and as the captain neared
him, he endeavoured to stop him, and stretched forth his hand to seize
the improvised bridle, but the gallant equestrian laughed to scorn the
impotent attempt, and shook him off, and shot by him. Thus foiled, the
policeman had nothing to do than to give chase; so turning his horse’s
head he followed in full cry. The clatter and shouts of pursuer and
pursued brought forth the inhabitants of the cottages as they passed, and
many of these joined in the chase. Never since Turpin’s ride to York, or
Johnny Gilpin’s ride to Edmonton, had there been such a commotion caused
by an equestrian performance. To make a long story short, the captain
reached the station in ample time; an explanation ensued; a handsome
apology was tendered to the patrol, and a present equally handsome was
forwarded, together with the abstracted property, to the joint owner of
the horse and the clothes-line.