I SAW nothing more of Mr. Petulengro that evening; on the morrow,
however, he came and informed me that he had secured the horse for me,
and that I was to go and pay for it at noon. At the hour appointed,
therefore, I went with Mr. Petulengro and Tawno to the public, where, as
before, there was a crowd of company. The landlord received us in the
bar with marks of much satisfaction and esteem, made us sit down, and
treated us with some excellent mild draught ale. “Who do you think has
been here this morning?” he said to me; “why, that fellow in black, who
came to carry me off to a house of Popish devotion, where I was to pass
seven days and nights in meditation, as I think he called it, before I
publicly renounced the religion of my country. I read him a pretty
lecture, calling him several unhandsome names, and asking him what he
meant by attempting to seduce a churchwarden of the Church of England. I
tell you what, he ran some danger; for some of my customers, learning his
errand, laid hold on him, and were about to toss him in a blanket, and
then duck him in the horse-pond. I, however, interfered, and said, ‘that
what he came about was between me and him, and that it was no business of
theirs’. To tell you the truth, I felt pity for the poor devil, more
especially when I considered that they merely sided against him because
they thought him the weakest, and that they would have wanted to serve me
in the same manner had they considered me a down pin; so I rescued him
from their hands, told him not to be afraid, for that nobody should touch
him, and offered to treat him to some cold gin and water with a lump of
sugar in it; and on his refusing, told him that he had better make
himself scarce, which he did, and I hope I shall never see him again. So
I suppose you are come for the horse; mercy upon us! who would have
thought you would have become the purchaser? The horse, however, seemed
to know it by his neighing. How did you ever come by the money? however,
that’s no matter of mine. I suppose you are strongly backed by certain
friends you have.”
I informed the landlord that he was right in supposing that I came for
the horse, but that, before I paid for him, I should wish to prove his
capabilities. “With all my heart,” said the landlord. “You shall mount
him this moment.” Then going into the stable, he saddled and bridled the
horse, and presently brought him out before the door. I mounted him, Mr.
Petulengro putting a heavy whip into my hand, and saying a few words to
me in his own mysterious language. “The horse wants no whip,” said the
landlord. “Hold your tongue, daddy,” said Mr. Petulengro. “My pal knows
quite well what to do with the whip, he’s not going to beat the horse
with it.” About four hundred yards from the house there was a hill, to
the foot of which the road ran almost on a perfect level; towards the
foot of this hill, I trotted the horse, who set off at a long, swift
pace, seemingly at the rate of about sixteen miles an hour. On reaching
the foot of the hill, I wheeled the animal round, and trotted him towards
the house—the horse sped faster than before. Ere he had advanced a
hundred yards, I took off my hat, in obedience to the advice which Mr.
Petulengro had given me, in his own language, and holding it over the
horse’s head commenced drumming on the crown with the knob of the whip;
the horse gave a slight start, but instantly recovering himself,
continued his trot till he arrived at the door of the public-house,
amidst the acclamations of the company, who had all rushed out of the
house to be spectators of what was going on. “I see now what you wanted
the whip for,” said the landlord, “and sure enough, that drumming on your
hat was no bad way of learning whether the horse was quiet or not. Well,
did you ever see a more quiet horse, or a better trotter?” “My cob shall
trot against him,” said a fellow, dressed in velveteen, mounted on a low
powerful-looking animal. “My cob shall trot against him to the hill and
back again—come on!” We both started; the cob kept up gallantly against
the horse for about half the way to the hill, when he began to lose
ground; at the foot of the hill he was about fifteen yards behind.
Whereupon I turned slowly and waited for him. We then set off towards
the house, but now the cob had no chance, being at least twenty yards
behind when I reached the door. This running of horses, the wild uncouth
forms around me, and the ale and beer which were being guzzled from pots
and flagons, put me wonderfully in mind of the ancient horse-races of the
heathen north. I almost imagined myself Gunnar of Hlitharend at the race
of — —.
“Are you satisfied?” said the landlord. “Didn’t you tell me that he
could leap?” I demanded. “I am told he can,” said the landlord; “but I
can’t consent that he should be tried in that way, as he might be
damaged.” “That’s right!” said Mr. Petulengro, “don’t trust my pal to
leap that horse, he’ll merely fling him down, and break his neck and his
own. There’s a better man than he close by; let him get on his back and
leap him.” “You mean yourself, I suppose,” said the landlord. “Well, I
call that talking modestly, and nothing becomes a young man more than
modesty.” “It a’n’t I, daddy,” said Mr. Petulengro. “Here’s the man,”
said he, pointing to Tawno. “Here’s the horse-leaper of the world!”
“You mean the horse-back breaker,” said the landlord. “That big fellow
would break down my cousin’s horse.” “Why, he weighs only sixteen
stone,” said Mr. Petulengro. “And his sixteen stone, with his way of
handling a horse, does not press so much as any other one’s thirteen.
Only let him get on the horse’s back, and you’ll see what he can do!”
“No,” said the landlord, “it won’t do.” Whereupon Mr. Petulengro became
very much excited, and pulling out a handful of money, said: “I’ll tell
you what, I’ll forfeit these guineas, if my black pal there does the
horse any kind of damage; duck me in the horse-pond if I don’t.” “Well,”
said the landlord, “for the sport of the thing I consent, so let your
white pal get down, and your black pal mount as soon as he pleases.” I
felt rather mortified at Mr. Petulengro’s interference, and showed no
disposition to quit my seat; whereupon he came up to me and said: “Now,
brother, do get out of the saddle—you are no bad hand at trotting, I am
willing to acknowledge that; but at leaping a horse there is no one like
Tawno. Let every dog be praised for his own gift. You have been showing
off in your line for the last half-hour; now do give Tawno a chance of
exhibiting a little; poor fellow, he hasn’t often a chance of exhibiting,
as his wife keeps him so much out of sight.” Not wishing to appear
desirous of engrossing the public attention, and feeling rather desirous
to see how Tawno, of whose exploits in leaping horses I had frequently
heard, would acquit himself in the affair, I at length dismounted, and
Tawno at a bound, leaped into the saddle, where he really looked like
Gunnar of Hlitharend, save and except the complexion of Gunnar was
florid, whereas that of Tawno was of nearly Mulatto darkness; and that
all Tawno’s features were cast in the Grecian model, whereas Gunnar had a
snub nose. “There’s a leaping-bar behind the house,” said the landlord.
“Leaping-bar!” said Mr. Petulengro scornfully. “Do you think my black
pal ever rides at a leaping-bar? No more than at a windle-straw. Leap
over that meadow-wall, Tawno.” Just past the house, in the direction in
which I had been trotting, was a wall about four feet high, beyond which
was a small meadow. Tawno rode the horse gently up to the wall,
permitted him to look over, then backed him for about ten yards, and
pressing his calves against the horse’s sides, he loosed the rein, and
the horse launching forward, took the leap in gallant style. “Well done,
man and horse!” said Mr. Petulengro; “now come back, Tawno.” The leap
from the side of the meadow was, however, somewhat higher; and the horse,
when pushed at it, at first turned away; whereupon Tawno backed him to a
greater distance, pushed the horse to a full gallop, giving a wild cry;
whereupon the horse again took the wall, slightly grazing one of his legs
against it. “A near thing,” said the landlord, “but a good leap. Now,
no more leaping, so long as I have control over the animal.” The horse
was then led back to the stable; and the landlord, myself and companions
going into the bar, I paid down the money for the horse.
Scarcely was the bargain concluded, when two or three of the company
began to envy me the possession of the horse, and forcing their way into
the bar, with much noise and clamour, said that the horse had been sold
too cheap. One fellow, in particular, with a red waistcoat, the son of a
wealthy farmer, said that if he had but known that the horse had been so
good a one, he would have bought it at the first price asked for it,
which he was now willing to pay, that is to-morrow, supposing—“supposing
your father will let you have the money,” said the landlord, “which,
after all, might not be the case, but, however that may be, it is too
late now. I think myself the horse has been sold for too little money,
but if so, all the better for the young man, who came forward when no
other body did with his money in his hand. There, take yourselves out of
my bar,” said he to the fellows; “and a pretty scoundrel you,” said he to
the man of the red waistcoat, “to say the horse has been sold too cheap;
why, it was only yesterday you said he was good for nothing, and were
passing all kinds of jokes at him. Take yourself out of my bar, I say,
you and all of you,” and he turned the fellows out. I then asked the
landlord whether he would permit the horse to remain in the stable for a
short time, provided I paid for his entertainment; and on his willingly
consenting, I treated my friends with ale, and then returned with them to
the encampment.
That evening I informed Mr. Petulengro and his party that on the morrow I
intended to mount my horse and leave that part of the country in quest of
adventures; inquiring of Jasper where, in the event of my selling the
horse advantageously, I might meet with him, and repay the money I had
borrowed of him; whereupon Mr. Petulengro informed me that in about ten
weeks I might find him at a certain place at the Chong gav. I then
stated that as I could not well carry with me the property which I
possessed in the dingle, which after all was of no considerable value, I
had resolved to bestow the said property, namely, the pony, tent,
tinker-tools, etc., on Ursula and her husband, partly because they were
poor, and partly on account of the great kindness which I bore to Ursula,
from whom I had, on various occasions, experienced all manner of
civility, particularly in regard to crabbed words. On hearing this
intelligence, Ursula returned many thanks to her gentle brother, as she
called me, and Sylvester was so overjoyed that, casting aside his usual
phlegm, he said I was the best friend he had ever had in the world, and
in testimony of his gratitude swore that he would permit me to give his
wife a choomer in the presence of the whole company, which offer,
however, met with a very mortifying reception, the company frowning
disapprobation, Ursula protesting against anything of the kind, and I
myself showing no forwardness to avail myself of it, having inherited
from nature a considerable fund of modesty, to which was added no slight
store acquired in the course of my Irish education. I passed that night
alone in the dingle in a very melancholy manner, with little or no sleep,
thinking of Isopel Berners, and in the morning when I quitted it I shed
several tears, as I reflected that I should probably never again see the
spot where I had passed so many hours in her company.