_Old Constancy._
The fog cleared off; and, as the hills began to throw long, lazy
shadows, their only embraces across the wide valleys, I mounted and set
out on the ride of a few miles which should bring me to my old
acquaintance’s dwelling.
I lingered on the way. All the old places demanded my notice. They
seemed to say, “Here we are--waiting for you.” Many a tuft of harebells
drew me towards the roadside, to look at them and their children, the
blue butterflies, hovering over them; and I stopped to gaze at many a
wild rosebush, with a sunset of its own roses. The sun had set to me,
before I had completed half the distance. But there was a long twilight,
and I knew the road well.
My horse was an excellent walker, and I let him walk on, with the reins
on his neck; while I, lost in a dream of the past, was singing a song of
my own making, with which I often comforted my longing by giving it
voice.
The autumn winds are sighing
Over land and sea;
The autumn woods are dying
Over hill and lea;
And my heart is sighing, dying,
Maiden, for thee.
The autumn clouds are flying
Homeless over me;
The homeless birds are crying
In the naked tree;
And my heart is flying, crying,
Maiden, to thee.
My cries may turn to gladness,
And my flying flee;
My sighs may lose the sadness,
Yet sigh on in me;
All my sadness, all my gladness,
Maiden, lost in thee.
I was roused by a heavy drop of rain upon my face. I looked up. A cool
wave of wind flowed against me. Clouds had gathered; and over the peak
of a hill to the left, the sky was very black. Old Constancy threw his
head up, as if he wanted me to take the reins, and let him step out. I
remembered that there used to be an awkward piece of road somewhere not
far in front, where the path, with a bank on the left side, sloped to a
deep descent on the right. If the road was as bad there as it used to
be, it would be better to pass it before it grew quite dark. So I took
the reins, and away went old Constancy. We had just reached the spot,
when a keen flash of lightning broke from the cloud overhead, and my
horse instantly stood stock-still, as if paralysed, with his nostrils
turned up towards the peak of the mountain. I sat as still as he, to
give him time to recover himself. But all at once, his whole frame was
convulsed, as if by an agony of terror. He gave a great plunge, and then
I felt his muscles swelling and knotting under me, as he rose on his
hind legs, and went backwards, with the scaur behind him. I leaned
forward on his neck to bring him down, but he reared higher and higher,
till he stood bolt upright, and it was time to slip off, lest he should
fall upon me. I did so; but my foot alighted upon no support. He had
backed to the edge of the shelving ground, and I fell, and went to the
bottom. The last thing I was aware of, was the thundering fall of my
horse beside me.
When I came to myself, it was dark. I felt stupid and aching all over;
but I soon satisfied myself that no bones were broken. A mass of
something lay near me. It was poor Constancy. I crawled to him, laid my
hand on his neck, and called him by his name. But he made no answer in
that gentle, joyful speech--for it was speech in old Constancy--with
which he always greeted me, if only after an hour’s absence. I felt for
his heart. There was just a flutter there. He tried to lift his head,
and gave a little kick with one of his hind legs. In doing so, he struck
a bit of rock, and the clank of the iron made my flesh creep. I got hold
of his leg in the dark, and felt the shoe. _It was loose_. I felt his
heart again. The motion had ceased. I needed all my manhood to keep from
crying like a child; for my charger was my friend. How long I lay beside
him, I do not know; but, at length, I heard the sound of wheels coming
along the road. I tried to shout, and, in some measure, succeeded; for a
voice, which I recognised as that of my farmer-friend, answered
cheerily. He was shocked to discover that his expected guest was in such
evil plight. It was still dark, for the rain was falling heavily; but,
with his directions, I was soon able to take my seat beside him in the
gig. He had been unexpectedly detained, and was now hastening home with
the hope of being yet in time to welcome me.
Next morning, after the luxurious rest of a heather-bed, I found myself
not much the worse for my adventure, but heart-sore for the loss of my
horse.