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THE 
 
 WHITE HORSE OF \YOOTTOK 
 
THE 
 
 WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 3 itcrg 
 
 OF LOVE, SPORT AND ADVENTURE IN THE MIDLAND 
 
 COUNTIES OF ENGLAND AND ON THE 
 
 FRONTIER OF AMERICA. 
 
 By CHARLES J. FOSTER, 
 
 ACTHOR OF " The HiGH-METTtED RaCEE," " ThE LETTERS OP PrhTATEER," « FiFTT DeRBT 
 
 Winners," etc. Editor op "The Trotting Horse of America," and of 
 " Field, Covee, and Trap Shogtinq." 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 PORTER & COATES, 
 
 No. 822 Chestnut Street. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by 
 
 CHARLES J. FOSTER, 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 
 
F? 
 
 AS A SMALL TOKEN 
 
 OP GREAT ESTEEM AND DEEP PERSONAL REGARD, 
 
 THIS WORK IS VERY RESPECTFULLY 
 
 DEDICATED TO 
 
 R. W. CAMERON, ESQ., 
 
 OF CLIFTON, S. I., BY HIS SINCERE FRIEND, 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 M585095 
 
THE 
 
 WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 " I thought he was expoundiug the law and the prophets ; but on drawing 
 a little nearer, I found that he was warmly expatiating upon the merits of a 
 brown horse." Bracebridge Hall. 
 
 THE horses of the goblin and demon riders have almost 
 always been black. It is so stated by the writers and 
 historians who have recorded the events in which they figured 
 and the scenes in which they appeared. He who carried Heme 
 the Hunter under the hoary, wide-spreading oaks of the green 
 glades of Windsor Park was black as night. Black as mid- 
 night thunder is the great steed ridden by the gigantic demon 
 over the crags, through the brakes, by the gaping mouths of 
 ancient mines, long uu worked, on the slopes of the Hartz 
 Mountains. Black was the stallion who bore the strange shape 
 through the pelting storm, to demand the penalty nominated 
 in the bond between the devil and Tom ^yalker. On the con- 
 trary. Spirits of Health of the equestrian order — founders of 
 empires, demi-gods, and saints — have commonly appeared on 
 milk-white steeds. White was the horse that carried Hengist 
 and in the front of battle shook his snowy mane. White was 
 he the good St. James bestrode when he fought before the ranks 
 of Cortez against the heathen of America. To be sure some 
 have hinted that St. James took no part in the battle at all, 
 and that the man on the white horse wa^ Francesco de Morla ; 
 but the same people would dispute the fact that the Great 
 Twin Brethren appeared mounted and armed, and achieved 
 victory for the Roman power at the battle of Lake Regillus. 
 Yet what saith the ancient tradition ? 
 
8 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 
 
 " So spake he, and was buckling 
 
 Tighter black Auster's band, 
 When he was aware of a princely pair 
 
 That rode at his right hand. 
 So like they were, no mortal 
 
 Might one from other know; 
 White as snow their armor was, 
 
 Their steeds were white as snow." 
 
 It may seem at the first view that White Surrey of Bosworth 
 Field was a notable exception, but the truth is that the char- 
 acter of his master, Richard III., has been grossly calumniated. 
 History and biography founded upon the writings of poets and 
 the traditions of players are always wrong. Shakespeare hav- 
 ing for his patroness, Elizabeth Tudor of the rival house, dealt 
 unfairly with the Duke of Gloster, and the actors have done 
 worse. He was a wise, accomplished, valiant young prince, a 
 little unscrupulous, it may be, but on the whole, a good king, 
 as kings went in the Middle Ages and the wars of the rival 
 roses. He was killed in Leicestershire, at about thirty years of 
 age, and now the actors depict an elderly ruffian, a monster 
 of depravity and deformity, more like the boar, which was 
 his crest, than the wise young prince whom AVarwick cher- 
 ished, and to whom he gave his best beloved daughter, the 
 Lady Anne Neville. Therefore, White Surrey was no excep- 
 tion to the rule that white horses are the agents of love, beauty 
 and beneficence, as a thousand passages to young maidens and 
 princesses and milk-white palfreys go to show. 
 
 But for all that, the apparition John Bullfinch saw in his 
 ride, on a wild night, through the thick woods of Wootton, 
 came in semblance of a white horse — white as the sea-foam 
 that whirls about the bows of the Flying Dutchman when the 
 hoarse voice of Vanderdecken roars in the howling gale. The 
 White Horse haunted the memory of John Bullfinch for many 
 a day. He declared that it was white ; he affirmed that it was 
 in the likeness of a horse ; and as there was no better horse- 
 man within the borders of the counties in which the Woods 
 of Wootton lie than John, everybody said, "he ought to 
 know." 
 
 He affirmed, furthermore, that it was supernatural, and for 
 some time nobody ventured to contradict him on that point. 
 It might not have been altogether safe to do so, for John was 
 as positive as any other Englishman, of fair possessions and 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 9 
 
 past the middle age, in the Hundred of Ridingcumstoke. This 
 is saying a great deal. In fact John was seldom confuted in 
 his arguments or contradicted in his assertions. His landlord, 
 Sir Jerry Snaffle, was a mighty man in those parts — rich, 
 liberal, a great sportsman, an authority in the weighty matters 
 of the turf — an English gentleman after John's own heart. 
 From Sir Jerry John Bullfinch rented many an acre, and 
 many a rood of rich arable and pasture land, just as his fore- 
 fathers had rented from former baronets of the Snaffle family 
 time out of mind. He likewise farmed his small patrimonial 
 estate of Hawkwell, a snug place, the nest of many genera- 
 tions of Bullfinches centuries before John himself was born. 
 Thus he was freeholder as well as tenant, a man of substance, 
 of that solid character that his opinions were just about as 
 easily shaken as one of the oaks which grew upon his land. 
 Like his landlord, John Bullfinch was a sportsman. Hunting, 
 coursing, and horse-racing he esteemed as the great delights, 
 not to say virtues, of the country, especially the last, in its two 
 branches — over the flat and over the steeple-chase course. He 
 also liked social conviviality and discourse of reason when the 
 day was well nigh done. His favorite beverage at night was 
 brandy and water, warm. At early morning he sometimes took 
 milk punch. In the middle of the day nut-brown ale, brewed in 
 March or October, and kept to a mellow age, he most esteemed. 
 He cared little for wine at any time, and held in contempt 
 the light productions of France. Claret, in his opinion, was 
 calculated to impair the British Constitution, a thing for which 
 he had profound reverence, whether considered corporeally, or 
 as existing in the three estates of the realm. He was a good 
 farmer in his own way, which was, in the main, that of his an- 
 cestors. He employed more laborers than any other occupier 
 of the same number of acres, and many of them had worked 
 for above a score of years at Hawkwell. He had as fine horses, 
 as fat oxen, as large flocks of massive, long-wooled sheep as any 
 man in the four counties of Buckinghamshire, Oxfordshire, 
 Northamptonshire, and Warwickshire ; but he stubbornly re- 
 sisted the notions which had begun to prevail touching scien- 
 tific agriculture and organized husbandry. Had not the fat- 
 test and biggest bullock ever fed in EugUmd, except one, been 
 raised and grazed at Hawkwell ? Had not four of his men, 
 
10 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 with their scythes upon their shoulders, and backed by Sir Jerry 
 Snaffle and himself, challenged for a mowing-match against 
 all England ? These were the questions which, with a loud 
 voice and a red face, John put to the advocates of artificial 
 manures and mowing-machines. If at such times the famous 
 Mr. Mechi had been present, and declared that Hawkwell w^as 
 ill-farmed, John Bullfinch would probably have knocked him 
 down. He had once been exasperated by a flippant youth 
 from London, who depreciated the quality of his cattle, and 
 recommended him to go and see Paul Potter's young bull. 
 "Potter, Potter! who's he, and what's the breed of his 
 young bull ?" said John. With the country gentlemen, with 
 his brother farmers, and with the laborers John Bullfinch was 
 a general favorite. John Bullfinch was liberal in sentiment, 
 generous with his means, a good rider across country, and 
 known to the choice spirits of the land, from peers of the 
 realm to prize-fighters. In his intercourse with the latter class 
 John never failed to deplore the falling off* of the Ring in 
 respectability and usefulness since the days of that great man, 
 Mr. Thomas Cribb, and his trainer. Captain Barclay. Though 
 some modern professors of the fistic art succeeded in getting 
 from him liberal contributions towards the "battle-money," 
 they were always paid over with strong protests against the 
 " dropping system," and formal notices that " The King" would 
 be clean done for if ever there was " another cross." 
 
 The home of the yeoman, Hawkwell Farm, w^as a cheery 
 place at the dawn of a brisk, wintry morning. The faggot on 
 the wide hearth blazed and crackled as though it would leap 
 up the chimney, and, like the devout Parsee, greet the first 
 beam of the rising sun. The game-cock, full of valor and 
 pride, crowed in the stack-yard. The house girls sang and 
 swept; the cherry-cheeked milkmaids called up the lowing 
 kine ; flails thundered on the stout barn floor ; geese screamed 
 on the margin of the pond, flapping their wings as though 
 about to mount to the upper air and join the flight of their 
 wild kindred of the mist and cloud. The sow and litter clam- 
 ored for the filling of the trough ; colts frolicked in the pad- 
 docks ; heifers in the straw yard. The rooks cawed hoarsely 
 from the tops of the lofty elms. The pied bull, full-fronted 
 and savage in aspect, bellowed over the ox-fence ; and, high 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 11 
 
 over the ancient well in the blackthorn brake, the falcon 
 •wheeled and sailed. 
 
 The morning sunshine had just begun to glance through 
 the windows and athwart the floors when May Bullfinch trip- 
 ped down-stairs. She was a fair lass of midland English 
 type, about nineteen, bright, brown-haired, and beautiful. 
 She had hazel eyes, of a " punishing size," as her brother 
 Jack remarked, and in her complexion there were blent the 
 old favorites of the poets — the lily of the valley and the red, 
 red rose ! Her form was round, but light and graceful ; her 
 step firm but airy, like that of a young colt in the dewy pas- 
 ture at the spring of day. May was the only daughter of 
 John Bullfinch and the wife he had lost some ten years before, 
 all too soon. As she grew up, the yeoman .saw again, as in 
 the light of love and memory, the fair lass he had wooed and 
 won above a score of years before, and who had been the most 
 blessed and best of women, a good wife and fond mother. The 
 girl met upon the threshold her brother, a stripling, some years 
 younger than herself, with the family features well marked. 
 But there was this difierence : what in her seemed gentle as 
 well as gay, was in the boy impatient as well as lively. His 
 cheek was of a browner hue, his hair of a darker shade. His 
 hazel eyes were as bright but not as large and soft as those of 
 his sister. He was tali for his age, well made, quick in 
 action, and with that ease and confidence which horsemanship 
 and the following of field sports in com}muj with those of 
 greater age always give to the young. The lax:l wore a tight 
 jacket of brown moleskin, cor<i breeches, leather leggings and 
 spurs, and carried a long-lashed whip in his hand. He was 
 generally pronounced another excellent specimen of the good 
 old family of the Bullfinches, sure to hunt, shoot and fight, 
 and to cultivate the sciences of horse-racing and breeding 
 game-cocks. The moralists of this day and generation may 
 shake their heads, but young Bullfinch was a youth nearly 
 half a century ago, amd perhaps still lives in the home of his 
 forefathers, worthy, wealthy and respected. True it is, that 
 as he rode about his father's farm, and frolicked in the merry- 
 makings of the neighborhood. Parkins the constable and the 
 beadle of the parish, made moan over their beer, and pro- 
 nounced him,, in common with other youth of the same age 
 
12 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 
 
 and bailhvick, "a good deal too forrad !" The boy had just 
 reached the time of life when ladies no longer called him by 
 the coaxing and endearing name — " Johnny." " Johnny" had 
 became plain " Jack" in everybody's mouth, never more to 
 change until upon the fond lips of sweetheart and wife it 
 should be rounded and softened into John. He was to all the 
 country-side Young Jack, and sometimes, like the barons and 
 squires, took particularity from his father's patrimony, and was 
 called Young Jack of Hawk well. At this moment the flush 
 of exercise was upon his cheek, and the white hoar frost upon 
 his curly hair. He had already ridden afield and returned 
 for breakfast. The table was spread with the substantial fare 
 of a country farm-house — eggs and bacon, cold diine, a brown 
 loaf, and a dish of bread and butter. The Jad was eager to 
 begin. He looked at the chine and suified the fragrance of 
 the broiled bacon. He went to the window and whistled, 
 turned to the corner, and took up his gun from the side of the 
 tall eight-day clock. 
 
 " Father's behind time, May, and I'm standing this bacon 
 like old Dash at a leveret in turnips." 
 
 He might have added to this, but the solid tread of John 
 Bullfinch was "heard upon the stairs, and in a moment he en- 
 tered the room. A ruddy, smooth-shaven man of forty-five or 
 perhaps fifty, stout, muscular and active. Nevertheless, he 
 stooped a little, and his legs were bowed from much riding in 
 the saddle. There were a few threads of silver in his hair, 
 but his face was unwrinkled, and his voice round and firm. 
 
 *' ^''^y gi'ace. May," said the iarmer. 
 
 With reverent, down-cast eyes and soft palms laid together, 
 the maiden asked of the bountiful giver of all good a bless- 
 ing. Little was said until the morning meal was ended, for 
 neither the father nor the son cared to pause in eating for the 
 sake of mere conversation. 
 
 *' I think I shall do well enough now until lunch time," said 
 the youth, rising. " The air of the hills in the morning gives 
 an appetite. Father, I saw a fox steal into the Long Gorse 
 just at dawn, and a j)air of magpies chattered at him from 
 the oak tree over the stile. A long-legged 'un ! What a run 
 he'll give us when the hounds come our way again, if he 
 
THE WRITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 13 
 
 breaks and goes away for the open Otmoor country, instead of 
 making for the woods at Wootton !" 
 
 <' Jack," said May, " another half-year's run to school would 
 do you good. You will be sorry some of these days that 
 your father took you home so soon." 
 
 " My dear," said John Bullfinch, "I don't know that 1 have 
 taken him home for good and all. It depends upon his be- 
 havior. Jack has as much learning now as most of the Bull- 
 finches ever had, and we always managed to get through the 
 run, be the day ever so long and the country ever so stiff As 
 Sir Jerry Snaffle says, men are not educated in school much. 
 I shall not make my son a man before he's a boy. But he's 
 the only one we have, ^lay, and now that he can read, write, 
 and cipher well, to my mind he is as well with us as he would 
 be at boarding-school." 
 
 " I love to have him at home, father ; I know^ that he is 
 good at his books and figures, and plain English," said May ; 
 " people, however, think that for your son, heir of Hawkwell, 
 certain accomplishments are desirable." 
 
 " Which," said young Jack, confidently and hastily, " I 
 have got. Tom Scarlet says I'm the best rider in the country 
 of my age ; and as for the keeper, he savs I can shoot too well 
 by half" 
 
 John Bullfinch looked somewhat dubious at this last clause 
 of the argument, and glanced at the light, double-barrelled 
 gun which had been presented to his son by the Tom Scarlet 
 mentioned. The farmer hemmed, looked from his son to his 
 daughter, and from his daughter to his son. 
 
 " May, if I find it needful to take a pull upon the lad, it 
 shall be done. He certainly has more liberty than I had at 
 his age ; but then I wasn't an only son. Besides, I trust hira 
 much to your guidance." 
 
 " And that," said young Jack, readily, " is quite right, for 
 she can guide me and keep Tom Scarlet in the line of the 
 hunt too." 
 
 " What d'ye mean by that ?" said the father. 
 
 " Oh, nothing in particular ! Tom is this way a good deal, 
 you know," replied the boy, with a glance at his sister. 
 
 "I do know^ it. What then? What do you think brings 
 him here ? Come, now !" 
 
14 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " I think, father," said Young Jack, " that it's what they 
 call instinct, which is the thing that makes young ducks 
 hatched by a hen waddle straight off to the nearest water." 
 
 " Quack ! quack !" said his sister, pinching his ear. " The 
 accomplishments I mean are such as drawing, mus.ic and 
 dancing." 
 
 " Music and dancing !" said Jack ; " why I can play on the 
 tabor and fife beautiful, and outfoot any man in the country 
 in a jig or reel. Charles King says I ought to join the morris 
 dancers come May day." 
 
 His sister laughed, and so did his father ; but John then 
 said, with a poor attempt at a frown, " Be silent, sir ! On 
 horseback Charles King is as good a man as ever sat in pig- 
 skin ; but his fondness for music and dancing lowers his dig- 
 nity as the best huntsman in the Midlands. I told Earl 
 Spencer so myself, the last time I hunted with the Pytchley 
 hounds." 
 
 Just then the clang of the gate outside, and the iron tread 
 of a horse on the frozen ground, caused the fiirmer to rise, 
 while his son exclaimed : " Here's Tom Scarlet himself, on 
 Danger I" 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 THE MAN ON THE RED HORSE. 
 
 THE new comer, Tom Scarlet of the Grange, a fine-looking 
 young man, open and frank in countenance, about twenty- 
 four years of age, rode a bright chestnut horse of great size 
 and strength, one that to all ap^Dcarance was very determined, 
 not to say vicious, in character. His rider sat him with all 
 the ease and confidence of a powerful and practised horse- 
 man, while the horse himself could hardly be said to be ever 
 still. There was a constant weaving of his head from side to 
 side, and flecks of foam flew from him when he threw it up 
 as high as the martingale would allows His forehead was 
 broad and full, but his face below it was deeply " dished," and 
 he showed much of the whites of his eyes. The rider was 
 tall, thin in the flank, deep-chested, and strongly but not 
 stoutly built. A forehead broad and high, and shaded with 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 15 
 
 dark chestnut hair, rose over bright blue 63^3. His complex- 
 ion was florid, and his bushy whiskers, of a reddish hue, were 
 such as were then seldom worn by young men of his class. 
 Mr. Tom Scarlet, however, sanguine in temperament and 
 independent in character, did not care as much for custom 
 and precedent as many other people in that neighborhood, 
 and his whiskers flourished to the discontent of some. His 
 family name and appearance had led to his being often called 
 " Scarlet and Gold,'' which nickname had originated with a 
 damsel of gypsy blood and corresponding habits, an orphan, 
 belonging to a tribe which often camped on the heaths and in 
 the sequestered lanes of that part of the country. Her name 
 was Miriam Cotswold. It was thought by some of the cen- 
 sorious that the master of the Grange was a little more famil- 
 iar with Miriam and her tribe than beseemed the owner of a 
 landed estate of small dimensions but great antiquity. But 
 Mr. Tom Scarlet was not the man to care much about what 
 the censorious and the gossips said. 
 
 John Bullfinch was his staunch friend. Young Jack idol- 
 ized him. May Bullfinch was startled by discovering, of a 
 sudden, how much she liked him. Sir Jerry Snafiie often 
 consulted him. When Tom Scarlet's father, a gouty, choleric 
 man, died — some years before the opening of this story — his 
 eldest son John succeeded to the patrimony. It was an old 
 family estate, which had once been much larger. Luckilv, 
 John Scarlet could not encumber it, as it was strictly entailed, 
 for he was rather profuse in his expenditure. As the people, 
 more especially his cronies and companions, said, he was a 
 liberal, spirited young man, and lived like one of the old 
 Scarlets. They might have added that he died like one too, 
 for he broke his neck in a steeple-chase, and his brother Tom, 
 then just twenty-one years of age, was heir to the Grange and 
 the estate. It soon appeared that he had also inherited the 
 bold family traits in full measure, for immediately after his 
 brother's funeral he mounted Danger, the horse that had 
 killed him, and galloped over the five-mile steeple-chase course 
 9n which the accident happened. Since then he had com- 
 monly ridden the horse, and it seemed that he had subdued 
 him so far as his own management and riding went, though 
 to every one else Danger was as uncertain and perilous as 
 
16 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 before. The master of the Grange kept two other huuters 
 besides Danger. He trained racers for hnuters' plates, and 
 he was the best gentleman rider in those parts. As such his 
 name was great in the mouths of Sir Jerry Snaffle, Master of 
 Hounds, John Bullfinch of Hawkwell, and most other people 
 of their way of thinking. Popularity of this sort, however, 
 has its drawbacks. If Sir Jerry and John Bullfinch had 
 often won money through Tom Scarlet's skill and vigor in 
 the saddle, some other people had lost it. So, on the other 
 side of the county, there were squires, parsons and farmers 
 well-to-do, who shook their heads and declared that " Ne'er a 
 jockey at Newmarket, nor anywhere else, was up to more 
 dodges, or prepared to take more advantages, in a cross- 
 country race, than Tom Scarlet." And then it was pointed 
 out by some, among whom were the leading attorney and 
 doctor of the neighboring town, that Scarlet had no proper 
 sense of his own place. 
 
 " Sir," said the attorney, " he clapped in before Colonel 
 Carbine at an ox-fence, and that was the reason the Colonel 
 got a cropper." 
 
 " And went over the Rev. Mr. Tallyho, horse and all, when 
 they were in Otmoor Brook," said the doctor. 
 
 " More than that, sir," cried the attorney ; " the fellow actu- 
 ally pounded young Lord Doomsday and his thousand-guinea 
 mare. Scarlet being upon Danger, who ought to have been 
 shot long ago, and would have been if the coroner had done 
 his duty." 
 
 " Hem [ I attended that case in my professional capacity — 
 the accident and the inquest, you know. John Scarlet's neck 
 was dislocated, and he must have died instanter." 
 
 " Well, sir," said the attorney, " if you have to attend an- 
 other such case, caused by the same horse, I, for one, shall 
 not go into mourning." 
 
 Nor was this all that came to the ears of Sir Jerry Snaffle 
 and John Bullfinch in regard to their young friend. Mole- 
 skin, head-keeper to the Marquis of Wootton, averred that 
 Tom Scarlet killed more pheasants in a week than could be 
 found upon the Grange farm in a year ; besides which, he 
 was " hail fellow well met" with half the poachers and more 
 than half the gypsies in the county. But for all that, neither 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 17 
 
 Sir Jerry iior Joliu Bullfinch would give up Tom Scarlet, 
 though they sometimes geutly ami affectiouateiy expostulated 
 with him. 
 
 The calls of the master of the Grange at Hawkwell had 
 become more and more frequent. What had at first been 
 " lookings in" upon the farmer, to chat over good runs, great 
 races, and other sporting topics, had gradually changed into 
 visits to his daughter. While this was going on John Bull- 
 finch had become somewhat perplexed. He liked Tom Scarlet; 
 even his very faults secretly endeared him to honest John. 
 But, then, John had his doubts whether " pounding" Lord 
 Doomsday, riding over the Rev. Mr. Tallyho in a brook, and 
 shooting more pheasants than the law^ allowed were just the 
 gifts for a farmer's son-in-law. John procrastinated. He would 
 think it over. May was a good girl, a dutiful girl ; the image 
 of her mother at the same age. There would be no difiiculty 
 in settling it all by-and-by. He would see Sir Jerry about it, 
 and if it should become necessary, would consult Lady Snaffle, 
 who was May's godmother, and whose word in that part of 
 the county was never gainsaid. So John Bullfinch had let 
 the matter lie, and meantime all the gossips in the riding had 
 taken it up. Never had Tom Scarlet's misdoings taken such 
 color at the tea-tables of Ridingcumstoke as when it was 
 bruited about that he aspired to the hand of May Bullfinch, 
 and that her father, " careless and stupid man," did not inter- 
 pose to " forbid the bans," as one may say. The old ladies in 
 black silk and lace caps, who had formerly applauded his 
 most desperate leaps in steeple-chases, and laughed over his 
 larks among the gypsies, now pronounced Tom a " bad 'un," 
 and had " no patience" with May herself. Old Mrs. Oxenford, 
 a notable woman and wise, summed it all up at the conclusion 
 of a tea-party by saying, " Tom Scarlet, my dears, is just 
 about such another as Danger, who broke his brother's neck." 
 
 " Why, aunt," exclaimed a merry young lady, " I have often 
 heard you say that the wild colt makes the good horse." 
 
 " Well," cried the old lady, " so he does ; but he throws 
 a-mauy in the breaking." 
 
 May Bullfinch had given Tom Scarlet her maiden love and 
 trust before she knew it. Matters had gone further then her 
 2 
 
18 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 father imagined, though there was as yet no absolute plight 
 of troth between them. lu all probability Young Jack was 
 the only one who knew how the land lay, and saw that Cape 
 IMatrimony loomed large through the mist in the distance. 
 Tiie daring qualities which made many people distrust and 
 fiear Tom Scarlet really endeared him to May Bullfinch the 
 more. To her he was always gentle. An Indian maiden who 
 has tamed a tiger may exult over the tusks and talons which 
 are not dangerous to his mistress but terrible to other people. 
 But May never called the young man " Scarlet and Gold," 
 and never met the jnercing look of Miriam Cotswold without 
 some distrust. 
 
 A hearty greeting passed between John Bullfinch, Young 
 Jack, and the master of the Grange. The former, surveying 
 the chestnut horse all over, exclaimed : — 
 
 " If I were you, Tom, I should part with Danger. He is 
 more trouble than he is worth, to say nothing of the risk, and 
 of the memory of the accident which befell poor John." 
 
 " It is not so easy to part with him as you might think, 
 sir," replied Tom. " People have a prejudice against him. 
 Now, I don't deny that Datger wants watching, that he rushes 
 at his leaps, and pulls a little." 
 
 " Pulls a little ! Why he'd almost pull a church down, and 
 you know it." 
 
 "Yes, sir; but I can hold him for all that, and a better 
 horse across country, when fairly settled to his work, there is 
 not in the bounds of Ridingcumstoke." 
 
 " Very well — a good horse, no doubt — a very good horse. 
 But the best I ever saw in the hunting field, for a man of my 
 weight, is Cowslip, and here she comes." 
 
 As he spoke a groom led up to the porch a powerful bay 
 mare, long and low, with great arched loins, heavy quarters, 
 and long, strong thighs and gaskius, running into big, bony 
 hocks. 
 
 " Ay, she's a good one, she is," said Tom. " A better mare 
 ■was never seen at the cover side. No day too long, the pace 
 never too strong, and when she rises at a fence she can lift a 
 ton and take it clean over. Cowslip's the mare of my heart ! 
 But I know of a stallion of another color, and may say I have 
 got him, that is — nearly as good." He was about to say quilt 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 19 
 
 as good, but his eye fell upon May Bullfinch, as she came to 
 the door, and he substituted " nearly." 
 
 John Bullfinch was much pleased. He was very proud of 
 his hunting mare. It was well known — a matter of boast in 
 and about Ridiugcumstoke — that he had several times refused 
 fabulous sums for her. Indeed, after young Lord Doomsday 
 was " pounded " in a great run by Tom Scarlet, that youthful 
 representative of the hereditary and collective wisdom of 
 England sent word to John by ^ir Jerry Snaffle that he could 
 name his own figure for Cowslip — price was no objection. 
 
 " I am going to ride her to the cattle fair, merely for exer- 
 cise," said John. 
 
 " Well, you needn't be afraid to send her along a little," 
 observed Young Jack ; " I have let her go a few smart canters 
 whenever the ground has been good, since the long frost set 
 in, and I'll warrant her not to blow at a hand gallop in four 
 miles." 
 
 John looked at his hopeful son with symptoms of rising 
 wrath, for his strong injunctions to him had been never to go 
 more than a foot pace when exercising Cowslip. But May 
 interposed, and by fondling the mare, patting her forehead, 
 stroking her nostrils, and kissing her clean lips, drew John's 
 attention. 
 
 " She knows as much as a man," said John. 
 
 " A precious sight more than some, and has experience that 
 the best man in all England might be proud of," returned Tom 
 Scarlet. 
 
 John thought he meant experience in the hunting field, Vvdiile 
 the Master of the Grange alluded, in fact, to the kisses and 
 fond caresses lavished upon Cowslip by May Bullfinch. Young 
 Jack, however, knew it all, and made a face at May as his 
 father, Tom Scarlet, and himself walked slowly around the 
 mare, surveying her proportions from every point of view, with 
 great deliberation and intense satisfaction. It was as though 
 they had seen her then for the first time, whereas all three had 
 thus perambulated round and round her at least a hundred 
 times, at different periods, and always with the same result — 
 " there never was such a mare before !" from all three in chorus. 
 
 " You haven't heard that Sir Jerry thought of swapping 
 The Bagman for Danger perhaps ?" said Tom Scarlet. 
 
20 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 
 
 " Did he ? And you wouldn't take him ?" 
 
 " Well, I don't know that I wouldn't, for The Bagman is a 
 good horse — a very good horse, though hardly up to the weight 
 of such a man as Sir Jerry." 
 
 " You should have taken him for Danger," said May, looking 
 at the restless chestnut, who had pawed and stamped a hole in 
 the frozen ground at the foot of the apple tree to which he was 
 tethered. 
 
 " I hadn't the chance," said Tom. " Lady Snaffle broke up 
 the bargain. ' Mr. Tom Scarlet,' said she, ' I do not want Sir 
 Jerry Snaffle brought home on a hurdle. Keep Danger for 
 your own use. You are the best rough-rider in the country." 
 
 " And what did you say to that ?" cried Young Jack. 
 
 " Say !" said his father, " why nothing, of course. Do you 
 think Lady Snaffle is to be argued with like a dealer at a fair? 
 I'll pound it Tom said nothing." 
 
 " You are right, sir. I couldn't affirm that Danger is alto- 
 gether a safe horse," replied Tom Scarlet. " But I am to have 
 The Bagman for a few weeks and try him. A steeple-chase 
 next winter is talked of, open to all horses that have been 
 hunted in the Midland counties this present season. Such a 
 thing couldn't well come off without Sir Jerry." 
 
 " It couldn't come off at all without Sir Jerry. Go on, Tom, 
 and let us hear all about it." 
 
 " Sir Jerry will put in Danger and The Bagman, if it is a 
 sweepstakes, and perhaps another^ 
 
 " There will be no need for the other, and I should be un- 
 willing to let her start if there was," said John Bullfinch, with 
 his eye on the mare. " Danger can beat any horse I know of 
 that is qualified." 
 
 " I don't know about that," cried Young Jack. " If the 
 weights are light — that is, not up to welter weights " 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir ! Let Tom be heard. One would 
 think you knew more about it than either he or I." 
 
 " I prefer Danger to The Bagman at any weights, providing 
 the chestnut has the right kind of a rider," said Tom. " But 
 between us here, I have as good as got a better horse for the 
 five-mile journey over our bullfinches and ox-fences than 
 either of them." 
 
 "Ah! then he must be a rasper," said John. "I must 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 21 
 
 / 
 
 / 
 
 mount and ride, Tom. Jack, go as far afield as the Long Hill 
 and look over the wethers. May, my dear, kiss me. You get '%!, 
 more like your mother every day. You need not sit up for / 
 me, my dear, if I happen to be a little late. Fury can be let 
 loose before you go to bed. Any message for Mrs. Hick- 
 man?" 
 
 " Yes, love to her and Mary, father. Tell them they must 
 be at our shearing, and I will send word when the cuckoo 
 comes." 
 
 With a friendly nod to Tom Scarlet, and another kiss upon 
 the cherry lips of his daughter, John Bullfinch mounted Cow- 
 slip and trotted leisurely away. His children and Tom looked 
 at his stalwart retreating figure until it was hidden by the 
 clump of blackthorn bushes around the hawk's well, from 
 which the place took its name in old times. 
 
 " Dear father ! he does so love Cowslip," said May. 
 
 "And with good reason. There never was such another 
 mare," returned Tom Scarlet ; " she's as good as Danger, and 
 a little safer." 
 
 "Alittlesafer— O, Tom!" 
 
 "Well, then, a good deal safer. Still, Danger is not half as 
 bad as he is made out to be. He is not really vicious." 
 
 "O, no!" cried Young Jack. "Kind and docile, and just 
 fit to carry a lady." 
 
 Tom Scarlet shook his head, told Jack to saddle Young 
 Cowslip, a sister of the famous mare, and that he would ride 
 with him to the Long Hill. Dismissing the boy with a wave 
 of his hand, he followed May into the great kitchen of the 
 farm-house, where the shepherd of the estate, old Will Dean, 
 was already taking his early dinner. The sturdy old man — 
 knotted, gnarled, gray as an aged oak, and almost as vigorous 
 — sat at a table on one side of the wide fireplace, in which two 
 or three billets of wood blazed. May Bullfinch stood before 
 him, the Master of the Grange by her side. All around the 
 shelves were glittering with pewter dishes. Flitches of bacon, 
 great chin^, and large plump hams filled the racks overhead, 
 and hung upon spikes in the walls. The shepherd carved for 
 himself from a gammon of bacon, red as a cherry and fra- 
 grant as a pear ; while the daughter of the house poured for 
 him good ale into a shining horn from a foaming flagon. Old 
 
22 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 Will was a favorite with May, and he knew it. He often told 
 her he was shepherd to her grandfather when her father was 
 such another stripling as Young Master Jack, and affirmed 
 with many a chuckle that Young Jack charged him with 
 taking greater care of her ewes than he did of his. 
 
 " No lambs yet, Will ?" said May. 
 
 " No, Miss, none ; but there soon 'ull be. As soon as ever 
 there be two or three couple I shall send for 'e. I have got a 
 little hut built and thatched for 'e inside the fold." 
 
 " That's right. As soon as any of my ewes have lambs I 
 shall be there every day to see them." 
 
 " And worth while, too, Miss ! And well worth seeing they'll 
 be, Mr. Scarlet, as you'll find out in a week or two. There 
 ain't no such yoes as Miss May's in this county. I know there 
 ain't, and I have been shepherd on this land more'n forty 
 year." 
 
 " Young Jack's are good ones," observed Tom Scarlet, as 
 if in doubt. 
 
 " Good 'uns ! Ay, for him. But what do you think I said 
 to Master and Sir Jerry Snaffle last autumn, 'bout the time 
 of the fair? I said, says I, ' Be you two gentlemen a-going to 
 exhibit any sheep at this here society ? Because, if you be, 
 don't you go and exhibit Cotswold yoes.' " 
 
 " Well, what then ?" 
 
 " Why, then, they says, * Why not ?' And I says, says I, 
 
 * Because Miss May is a-going to show a pen of Cotswold yoes, 
 and she can beat 'e both.' You should have heard the Master 
 and Sir Jerry laugh. O, how they did laugh when I said, 
 
 * If the decision is fair and judgmatical, Miss May 'ull beat 'e 
 both clean out o' sight.' " 
 
 With that old Will laid down his knife and fork, and roared 
 till the rafters of the kitchen shook again. 
 
TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 23 
 
 CHAPTER IIL 
 
 "The robin cheeped a dolorous note, 
 And the corncrake from the lea — 
 The owlet gave an eerie skreigh 
 As he leapt to the saddle tree." 
 
 IT was nine o'clock on a snowy night, and in the smoking 
 room of the Wheatsheaf there were songs and other sounds 
 of reveh-y. The Wheatsheaf was a substantial inn, kept by 
 Mrs. Hickman, at Aylesbury — Aylesbury in the Yale, where 
 the ducks come from, and where they held the real, straight- 
 away steeple-chases of fifty years ago. The guests had reason 
 to be content and merry. In the bar-parlor adjacent Mrs. 
 Hickman sat in rustling black silk and the fine-thread lace 
 made by the female peasantry of the neighborhood. In the 
 bar itself, under her mother's eye, Mary Hickman presided. 
 It was not like the bars of London gin-shops or New York 
 hotels, but a snug little apartment, from which fine old wines 
 and choice liquors were served to the waiter through a little 
 window, and then carried to the guests in the bright, comfort- 
 able smoking-room. The men of corn and cattle who occu- 
 pied the room seemed to be loth to leave it. There was a huge 
 sea-coal fire in the wide grate. Stout forms lined the high 
 oaken settle which circled around it. The steam of hot grog 
 mingled with the curling smoke from many pipes. The light 
 flashed on spurs and buckles as the yeomen stretched their legs. 
 There was laughter at passing jokes, and sometimes hammer- 
 ing on the tables with the butts of hunting whips. Some 
 think the men of corn and cattle are dull, heavy fellows, but 
 it is a cockney heresy. They abound in jokes and dry humor, 
 and have a vast capacity for drink and mirth ; that is, they 
 had at the time this company held revel in the Wheatsheaf, 
 much to the delight of its head waiter. 
 
 The waiter was not a grave person in the rusty black of an 
 undertaker's man, but a brisk and cheerful youth in drab 
 breeches and gaiters, a green coat of the Newmarket cut, and 
 a bird's-eye neckerchief, one of the sort named after the famous 
 Mr. Jem Belcher. In fact, when not otherwise engaged, the 
 
24 THE WUITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 waiter sometimes put on the gloves with those of the Wheat- 
 sheaf's customers who belonged to the young aristocracy, and 
 it was whisj)ered that no less a man than Jack Perkins, the 
 Oxford Pet, had offered to bring him out before the public in 
 that arena which was called the ring, mainly because it was 
 twenty-four feet square. On this snowy evening the waiter 
 was in high glee. He left no man unserved. He laughed at 
 every joke, applauded every song, and was especially attentive 
 to the comfort and convenience of Mr. John Bullfinch of 
 Hawkwell. Outside the snow fell fast and it had begun to 
 blow. But John Bullfinch, with pipe and brandy and water, 
 and jovial companions, was as independent as Tarn O'Shanter. 
 The minutes flew. Stories were told of hard runs and great 
 leaps in the hunting field. There were histories of fat beasts 
 and heavy crops, mingled with anecdotes of prize-fighters, and 
 eloquent tributes to the bravery and prowess of certain breeds 
 of game-cocks and bull and badger dogs. John Bullfinch was 
 a sort of chairman to the company. The narrators of the 
 stories addressed themselves chiefly to him. The glasses were 
 often filled, and every time the jocund waiter carried that of 
 Mr. Bullfinch to the bar he said cheerily to his young mistress, 
 " Brandy and water for Mr. Bullfinch, just like the last." 
 
 The night waxed on. One after another of the company 
 departed. Many had to ride far before they got home, and 
 others had wives to explain to when they reached there. So, 
 at last, except one or two townsmen, there remained only John 
 Bullfinch and a dark, lean, sinewy man, who sat at his right 
 hand, and answered to the name of Jack. This man wore 
 cord breeches, a velveteen coat, somewhat old and weather- 
 beaten, with leather leggings and rusty spurs. His look was 
 wary, yet daring ; his eye was dark, very bright, and very 
 restless ; and his long black hair fell over the nape of his neck. 
 Mr. Bullfinch and the gypsy — the man was a sort of horse- 
 dealer belonging to the tribes, and named Cotswold, though 
 seldom called anything but Jack or Gypsy Jack — were on very 
 good terms. The latter was something of a pugilist as well 
 as a dealer in horses, and the farmer now told him some anec- 
 dotes of Jem Belcher and Cribb, both of whom he had seen 
 fight. Perhaps the gypsy had heard the stories before, for he 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 25 
 
 did not appear to be especially interested, though he listened 
 with deference. 
 
 " A wildish night, Mr. Bullfinch," said the ostler, as he 
 came into the room and kicked the snow from his shoes at the 
 grate. 
 
 " I've ridden home on Cowslip in a worse, but we may as 
 w^ell start," said the farmer. " Saddle the mare and bring her 
 round. I'll say good-night to Mrs. Hickman, Jack, and then 
 we will go." 
 
 " So you're going, Mr. Bullfinch," said the comely landlady, 
 rising. " You will have a rough ride of it through the dark." 
 
 " The mare knows the road. Besides, I shall have company 
 to the tarn of the Woottou lands. Gypsy Jack is going so 
 far." 
 
 "Queer company on such a night. You might as well be 
 alone — perhaps better." 
 
 "Not at all, ma'am. Jack is a trustworthy fellow, and a 
 deep hand. Between you and I, ma'am, very few understand 
 Jack except Sir Jerry Snaffle, Tom Scarlet and myself." 
 
 " And how is Tom ?" said the landlady. 
 
 " AVell — very well ! He was at my house this morning on 
 Danger.'* 
 
 " I w^onder he rides that horse, considering what happened." 
 
 " Now that reminds me that the last time I rode from here 
 my horse shied abreast of the fence where John Scarlet w^as 
 killed, and I was nearly thrown," said the farmer. 
 
 " You must be careful, Mr. Bullfinch ; think of May. But 
 it wasn't Cowslip ?" 
 
 " Cowslip never shies, ma'am," replied John, with much 
 gravity. "You may meditate upon her just as you may in 
 your pew when the rector is in for a long, slow run, by way 
 of sermon. Thank you, my dear" (this to Mary Hickman, as 
 she handed him another glass), " I go over many things besides 
 brooks and fences on Cowslip, ma'am. The back of a good 
 horse, going home from feast, fair or market, is the best place 
 for reflection and meditation that I know of. The action of 
 the horse settles the thoughts ; and the pace being good, sobers 
 — that is, steadies — a man. Mrs. Hickman, your health, and 
 Mary, yours, my dear. You are like my daughter. May — 
 getting prettier every day." 
 
26 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 The damsel of the Wheatsheaf glanced iuto the pier-glass 
 over the fireplace with a smile aud mautliiig blush, aud then 
 tripped into the little bar. There she stood, fair to look upon, 
 in the midst of glittering crystal aud burnished silver, from 
 which her face was reflected on every hand. It glowed in the 
 old wines, and where the potent spirit of Cognac lay, like a tiger 
 in his den, it shone in the ruby flame. It was an innocent 
 little face ! seen " through a glass darkly," in the lair of the 
 turbulent essence, which held fixed the sunshine of a year. 
 John Bullfinch stirred his grog and sipped, and stirred again, 
 and as the spoon tinkled in the glass, he thought of wedding 
 bells, Mary Hickman as a bridesmaid, his daughter May and 
 Tom Scarlet. The action of the horse was just about wanted 
 to " settle the thoughts, and the pace being good, to steady 
 the man." John drank up. 
 
 " You are to come and stay two or three days at sheep-shear- 
 ing time ; but before that you are to drive over and spend the 
 day among the violets and primroses, when the cuckoo comes. 
 That's May's message, with her best love." 
 
 " Thanks ! thanks ! Our love to her," said the landlady and 
 her daughter. 
 
 "May will let you know when he's heard on the long hill. 
 The cuckoo, in these parts, is first heard on our long hill. It 
 was so in my father's time and in my grandfather's. It is so 
 in mine, and so it will be in my son Jack's, aud in that of 
 those who come after him. The philosophy of the matter is 
 that the cuckoo's guided by instinct, which, as Jack observed 
 this morning, makes young ducks hatched out by a hen toddle 
 off to the nearest water. Mrs. Hickman, good-night. Mary, 
 my dear, good-night. Not a step out of the parlor. ' Good- 
 by, sweethearts, good-by !' " 
 
 " Good-night ! good-night !" exclaimed the ladies ; and then 
 INIrs. Hickman added : " Of all the graziers, dealers, farmers, 
 and hunting men that visit Aylesbury in the Vale, John 
 Bullfinch is the noblest man — a perfect gentleman !" 
 
 " Good-night again !" as John Bullfinch dropped a shilling 
 into the ostler's hand. 
 
 "And a real good-uight to you, sir," in which the waiter 
 joined as the huntiug mare struck iuto a canter, aud the gypsy 
 followed on his vixenish-looking nag. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 27 
 
 Through the diraly-lightcd town, and by the muffled, 
 drowsy-looking watchmen, crawling like beetles under the 
 eaves and gables of quaint old houses, the horsemen rode. 
 Then leaving the baying of the watch-dogs behind them, they 
 wound down the hill towards the north and west and into the 
 rich vale below. It was about the last of a long and hard 
 winter — a time when the old tyrant seemed to see, with rage, 
 that men were getting ready to welcome joyous spring, and so 
 determined to make the close of his iron sway felt while he 
 had yet time. The wind blew keenly, and with it drifted a 
 powdery snow. The sky was cloudy, but behind the pack 
 there seemed to be a fitful sort of light, which now and again 
 shone through. It couldn't be the moon, for there was no 
 moon that night till later, and it shone mainly in the northern 
 board of the clouded heavens. Commonly the horsemen could 
 see dimly nothing but fields of snow and straggling hedges, 
 and then again it would lighten up with a pale glare, and the 
 cattle and sheep suddenly took shape and form for a moment. 
 It was not a flickering light, but steady enough while visible, 
 though coming and going like that thrown from a dark lan- 
 tern. It was a light of which John Bullfinch did not much 
 approve. Cats, bats and owls might fancy it, he observed, but 
 for his part he would rather have good, black, honest dark- 
 ness. 
 
 "Aye," said the gypsy, drawing nearer to the farmer, "this 
 here light that comes just enough to make us blink and get 
 blinder, 'ud suit churchyards, ghosts, grave-diggers and resur- 
 rection men better nor horsemen on the King's highway." 
 
 John Bullfinch did not like the suggestion. He repeated 
 that good, natural darkness would be preferable, but thought 
 the less said about ghosts and graves at such a time the better. 
 
 " The light," said he, " is just such as twenty * Jack-o'-Lan- 
 terns' and twenty ' Will-o'-the- Wisps' might be expected to show 
 through the mingled mist and snow of a winter's night." 
 
 With that he gave Cowslip the rein, and nothing loth she 
 dashed along at a better pace, one which made the gypsy's 
 nag gallop to keep up with her. Over the snow the horses 
 and their riders went, mostly silent, always resolute, and still 
 the long easy canter of the hunting mare kept the gypsy's nag 
 at a gallop. They met the up night mail coach. They ex- 
 
28 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 changed " Good-night," the universal benison, with the coach- 
 man and the guard in passing. And at last they reached the 
 turn of the lands, not a quarter of a mile from the Woods of 
 Wootton. Here the gypsy said to his companion, " Good-night," 
 and turning to the right, rode down into the shadow of a green 
 lane, now white with snow, between tall hedges. 
 
 As the gypsy was about to leave him, John Bullfinch pulled 
 the hunting-mare to a shacking trot and began to cogitate. 
 The question was, whether he should ride home by the road, 
 or through the deejD woods and great preserves of the IMarquis 
 of Wootton. The woods were seldom traversed at night except 
 by poachers and their enemies, the keepers and watchers. 
 John, however, was on the most intimate terms with the head 
 keeper, and was conceded the right of way whenever he chose 
 to take it. The road, argued he, to himself, is further round 
 and quite as lonely as the woods. It might be lighter, but he 
 didn't want any more of the sort of light he had experienced 
 upon it thus far. Besides, he remembered that he had busi- 
 nesss with the keeper, and should really be at home all the 
 sooner for going through the woods and calling upon him. At 
 the first gate he turned from the highway into one of the rides, 
 between old oaks and thick underwood. It was not the first 
 time by many, that John Bullfinch had ridden through these 
 woods at night to call upon Moleskin. The keeper was a 
 crony of his, and though they often disputed, they were at the 
 bottom, staunch friends. John Bullfinch considered vulcipede 
 a crime very nearly as heinous as murder, except when the 
 death of the fox was brought about in the orthodox manner 
 by a pack of hounds. Moleskin, on the other hand, had been 
 suspected of shooting vixens and trapping cubs about the time 
 the young pheasants were half grown. John had a sort of 
 weak sympathy for poachers. Moleskin proclaimed with some 
 ostentation, that he would shoot every known poacher he found 
 in the preserves, out of hand, if it were not for the law. John 
 denounced man-traps and spring-guns. Moleskin pretended 
 that he had them set at all convenient places, and afifected to 
 look upon their inventor as a greater man than he who pro- 
 duced the steam-engine. Their arguments were animated and 
 long ; and neither ever succeeded in convincing the other that 
 he was in the wrong. This, however, was nothing against their 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 29 
 
 reasoning, for each was a man of obstinacy, and neither was 
 inclined to give in upon compulsion. Moleskin was a bach- 
 elor. He had many tastes in common with the old hunters 
 and backwoodsmen of our Western frontier. He lived alone 
 in a sylvan lodge, deep in the great, solemn woods, some of 
 whose oaks may have been as old as the era of the Norman 
 Conquest. Sleeping much in the daytime, he was as alert, as 
 watchful and as wary as an old dog fox by night. Like the sor- 
 cerer of old who entertained a familiar in a black bottle. 
 Moleskin kept by him the spirit of old Cognac, and John 
 Bullfinch knew it. 
 
 Silently and slowly the hunting-mare cantered over the soft 
 carpet of snow that lay between the overhanging boughs of 
 the great trees and the thick belts of bushes, until her eyes 
 and those of her rider became used to the dim darkness of the 
 woods. The ride was some thirty feet wide, and smooth as a 
 bowling green, though with slopes and hi^Js here and there. 
 The snow hung heavy on the boughs and bushes, and still fell 
 fast. The wind had veered to the westward, and the fall was 
 now in thick, damp flakes. Sometimes John Bullfinch thought 
 it had ceased, but whenever he threw back his broad-brimmed 
 hat he found, by the spats in his face, that it was still falling. 
 There was no wind in the ride, but now and then it swept 
 through the vistas of the great trees with a melancholy sough, 
 like a wail for evil things foreknown. Once in a while the 
 yelp of the fox was heard, and the doleful screech of the owl 
 broke the silence of the night. Then all was still again. The 
 wood pigeons were silent, and the crows made no motion on the 
 boughs. But there were murmurings deep in the thickets, as 
 though the trees had tongues, voices of the ancient wood gods, 
 heard ere old Pan was dead. A strange glimmer now came 
 glinting down from the cloudy sky and up from the smooth 
 snow, and lost itself in the shade of the tall trees and bushes. 
 The oaks were often overgrown with ivy, and so were thick 
 with foliage not their own. As his eyes got accustomed to this 
 sort of weird gloaming, the farmer pricked more speedily along 
 towards the hermitage where the stout keeper, after the man- 
 ner of the Clerk of Copmanhurst, kept flagon and crust. Yet 
 into the dark, beyond the space of his narrow ken, John Bull- 
 finch now was ever peering. The hunting-mare, too, swerved 
 
30 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 always to the right, and pulled upon the near rein. John 
 Bulliinch soon began to think that he had some sort of com- 
 pany in his midnight canter. More and more the notion grew 
 upon him, until he was pretty nearly convinced that close to 
 the bushes, on the left-hand side of the ride, there was some- 
 thing moving abreast of him. He rubbed his eyes and looked 
 steadily ; he drew the collar of his coat down from his ears 
 and listened intently. Then he sj)oke to the mare. Cowslip 
 quickened the stroke, but edged over to the right-hand side so 
 far that the farmer's boot brushed against the bushes. John 
 Bullfinch was not a man to linger long in doubt when action 
 of his own could clear up an uncertainty. He touched Cow- 
 slip with the spur, gave her a cut with the whip down the 
 shoulder, and pulled her suddenly across the ride to intercept 
 that which seeemed to be abreast of him. With a long leap 
 like that with which she took a brook in stride, the hunting- 
 mare bounded to the left side of the ride, but though she 
 touched the bushes just where the shape which had perplexed 
 her master ought to have been, it eluded her, as though it 
 were a thing without corporeal substance to its form. This 
 was passing strange. John Bullfinch pulled Cowslip into the 
 midclle of the ride and gave her her head. Fast now she went, 
 faster and faster still, as she felt the close clip of the farmer's 
 knees, and his delicate pull upon the snafile bridle, but he 
 soon found that the form he had been aware of rather than 
 seen before was at her girths again, in the deep shadow. He 
 looked over his left shoulder at the shape which was nearly 
 shapeless and so swift, and knew not what to make of the mat- 
 ter. Again and suddenly he gave the mare a touch with the 
 spur, and made her dash across to the left, so that he thought 
 he could not fail to bring about a collision. But none came. 
 He saw the glint of a fiery eye, and then, like a rack of cloud 
 and mist in a driving storm, the thing swept by the mare's 
 haunches and was gone. John Bullfinch was not a supersti- 
 tious man. He knew no reason why a goblin shape, from the 
 confines of the other world, should have power to vex and 
 worry him. He was a true though unworthy son of the 
 Church, paid his tithes without grumbling, was at the Com- 
 munion-table at Easter, grace was always said at his board, 
 through May he gave much in alms to the poor, and he was 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 31 
 
 upon good terms with the rector and the curate. All this 
 passed through his mind — but there was the shape agaiu, and 
 neither rector, curate, nor clerk at hand to exorcise it. John 
 Bullfinch was a brave man, but now a chill went through him 
 as though an ice-tipped arrow from the grim hand of Death 
 himself had struck his heart and frozen up its fountain. The 
 good mare, too, trembled between his knees, and John took 
 this as an evil omen. What might it mean ? 
 
 The farmer considered, and was sore distressed to find that 
 he had forgotten, for the first time in his life, the order of the 
 sublime sentences which constitutes the prayer of our Lord. 
 There came upon his ear the sound of a church bell which he 
 knew. Every night in winter it was rung at the same hour 
 for thirty minutes, by provision of a dead man's will. In times 
 long gone by, when that part of the country was mostly mire 
 and wood and water, the haunt of wild fowl, birds of game, 
 and beasts of chase, one lost in a wild night and in much dis- 
 tress, had regained his road through hearing the passing bell 
 as it was tolled for some poor soul that had gone from the 
 flesh. For the rest of his life, the man had it rung at the same 
 hour, and when he died in due course of nature, not starved 
 in the wild, buried in the snow, or smothered in the fen, he left 
 property to pay for the continuance of the nightly ringing for 
 all time to come. Strange to say, the sound of the bell, coming 
 faintly and dreamily through the trees, brought small relief to 
 the mind of honest John Bullfinch. He might not have heard 
 that goblins damned and spirits evil can no more abide the 
 sound of bell from gray church tower than they can stand the 
 cheerful crowing of the early village cock. Something of the 
 virtues of a horse-shoe as a talisman occurred to him. 
 
 " But," said he, " the mare can't have cast off' all four of 
 hers, and it's no good for this gear." 
 
 The eflicacy of witch elm and witch hazel for the counter- 
 action of ungodly spells, and to curb the cantrips of the servants 
 of the evil one, was well known to him. But it was too dark 
 to find a wand of either, although plenty grew thereabout. 
 And besides, John would have been in no hurry to dismount 
 if he could have found what he wanted. Kocked in the cradle 
 of the saddle almost from infancy, the back of his horse was 
 his place of vantage, the mare his tower of strength, and if he 
 was to contend with things of diabolical origin he would meet 
 
32 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 them on her back. He thought, for just a moment, whether 
 it would not be better to gallop back to the turnpike road, 
 but scorning to retreat for ghost or goblin, he clucked to Cow- 
 slip and rode forward. As if in response to this resolute pluck, 
 the moonlight now broke faintly through the flying scud 
 above, and things became more distinct. Away went the good 
 bay mare over the snow, while the night wind moaned among 
 the tree tops. With the fumes of brandy dying in him, and 
 the disordered thoughts and feelings that, swift as dreams, 
 rushed through him, John's brain was a little confused. The 
 great stride of the mare bore him rapidly along, and as he 
 neared his destination he was about to devote to the Ked Sea 
 — whether the one of water or that whose billows are of rolling 
 fire — all ghosts, goblins, and demons of the dark. But just 
 then the owl shrieked, " the fatal bellman which gives the 
 stern'st good-night." The moon, like a good ship scudding in 
 storm and mist, sailed into the narrow strait between two dark 
 promontories of cloud, and revealed the appearance again. It 
 took shape and form — a phantom horse of great size and power ; 
 white as the monumental tablets in the chancel of the church 
 John knew so well — one erected to the memory of John Scarlet, 
 another over the resting-place of a man done to death upon 
 the highway. One flash from fiery eyes ! one glare from 
 glowing nostrils ! the white mane waved in the wind, and the 
 apparition vanished as the moon sailed behind the dark clouds 
 again. 
 
 The farmer was aghast. He liked not the form of the 
 apparition, and he was half inclined to say, " Take any shape 
 but that !" He did say, " I have been charged with thinking 
 more of horses than of my IMaker, but that was all a lie, and 
 if this is a visitation, it must be meant in mercy, not in wrath." 
 He tried to remember whether any farmer, drover, or gentle- 
 man who rode a white horse had ever been murdered in the 
 woods, but he could think of none. There came prancing into 
 his mind the figure of a white horse on the sign-board of an 
 inn that he sometimes frequented ; and then he thought of that 
 pale steed who carries the fleshless King, with his all-slaying 
 dart. 
 
 " If it's that white horse, he wasn't on him, which is a con- 
 solation," said John, as he touched Cowslip with the spur, and 
 she sped away. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 3'3 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 "But, Roman, when thou standest 
 
 Upon that holj ground, 
 Look thou with heed upon the rock 
 
 That girds "the dark lake round; 
 So shalt thou see a hoof-mark 
 
 Stamped deep into the flint — 
 It was no hoof of mortal steed 
 
 That made so strange a dint." 
 
 F' may be doubted whether the hunting-mare ever went 
 faster in her life than she did in the short space between 
 the place where her master saw the neck and shoulders of the 
 White Horse and the keeper's lodge. If the phantom and 
 she had been running a neck-and-neck race for a horseman's 
 soul, the one jockeyed by ApoUyon and the other by an angel 
 of light, she could scarcely have finished the heat with a more 
 determined " rush on the post." John Bullfinch threw him- 
 self from the saddle with a loud halloo, and looked around. 
 There was no white horse to be seen ; nothing but the good 
 bay mare, in a lather on the neck and in the flanks. Calling 
 to Moleskin, who came out with a lantern, to bring him a 
 blanket, the farmer led Cowslip under a sheltered shed and 
 slackened her girths. He then wrapped her up, sponged her 
 eyes and her muzzle, breathed into her wide nostrils three 
 times, and, taking the keeper by the upper part of his sinewy 
 arm, led him into the lodge without a word. The keeper's 
 sitting-room was fitted and furnished suitable to his calling. 
 Guns in racks, shot-belts and powder-flasks upon the walls, a 
 white hare stuffed upon the mantel-piece, an old pointer lay 
 before the fire, a cross-bred dog of the bull and pointer sat 
 upon the hearth, and a tan-colored mastiff* of great size and 
 strength, was chained near the case of the old eight-day clock. 
 The keeper was a tall man, thin, but very muscular and 
 sinewy, with a deep-gray eye and a grave, cast-iron sort of 
 face — a watchful, wary, bold and determined-lookiug man. 
 He had, perhaps, been taking a little brandy and water, for 
 a black bottle and tumbler were upon the table, with a pipe 
 and tobacco in a canister of lead. Contrary to his usual cus- 
 3 
 
34 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 torn, which was to avoid the driDkir.g of spirits neat, John 
 Bullfinch poured out a dram of brandy, and drank it without 
 any reference to Moleskin's health. 
 
 " Dick," said he, " bring another pipe." 
 
 The keeper did so. John Bullfinch filled it, lit it, took a 
 seat, motioned ^loleskin to another, and then said : 
 
 "What do you think I met to-night — this blessed night 
 that still hang.s over us ?" 
 
 " How should I know ? A couple of footpads, maybe. I 
 have often said you carry too many notes and too much gold. 
 The temptation to footpads, and, in a measure, to poachers, 
 shculd be avoided." 
 
 " Footpads be hanged !" 
 
 "It's only transportation now, unless there is murder as 
 well as robbery ; and you are alive, I think," said the keeper. 
 
 "Don't you be a fo.ol. It wasn't footpads — I could 'have 
 dealt with them — but something much more serious," said the 
 farmer. 
 
 " What ! do you mean to say that there are poachers abroad? 
 Have you seen or heard anything of poachers in this domain ? 
 Because, if you have. Tiger and I must be stirring." 
 
 The keeper laid his baud upon his gun as he spoke. The 
 half-bred bull-dog rose and suifled the air. The big mastiff 
 looked at his master with sullen, bloodshot eyes, and shook 
 his chain. John Bullfinch had let his pipe go out. He now 
 lighted it again, and after a couple of whififs, said : 
 
 " Moleskin, do- you believe in ghosts — ghosts and goblins — 
 what you may call apparitions ?" 
 
 "Do I believe in ghosts? and in goblins and apparitions? 
 Well, not in this domain — not in these woods and preserves. 
 No ghost with a grain of sense would pick this for his tramp- 
 in"; frround ; for here, you see, he would meet with mastiffs, 
 bull-dogs, double-barrelled guns, and so on, to say nothmg of 
 man-traps and spring-guns, which are set at certain conve- 
 nient places on these premises." 
 
 " That's neither here nor there, sir. I ask, do you believe 
 in such things in a general way ?" 
 
 " In a general way I do not ; but there may be such things 
 in the proper places," replied the keeper. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 35 
 
 " What do you call proper places for such appearances ? Is 
 this a proper place ?" said Mr. Bullfinch. 
 
 " No, sir ; it is a very improper place," replied the keeper. 
 " To my mind the proper places are churchyards, old, solitary 
 houses, in which misers have died of starvation among heaps 
 of hoarded gold ; lone places where midnight murder has been 
 done and the perpetrators have gone unhung ; the foot of gib- 
 bets on heaths and moors where you hear the croak of the 
 raven by day and the hoot of the owl at night. These are the 
 situations for ghosts and goblins. I have no belief of any in 
 these w^oods." 
 
 " Then I have, for I have just seen one," said Mr. Bullfinch 
 in his most resolute manner. 
 
 The keeper saw that downwright contradiction would be of 
 little service, but he shook his head as the farmer continued in 
 a tone serious enough to command attention, if not partial be- 
 lief 
 
 " Look here, Dick ! We are old friends. You have known 
 me, man and bof , for many a year. Now, something very 
 strange has happened since I turned into the woods to-night. 
 Something followed me, or rather kept abreast of me from the 
 gate of the ride until I drew bridle at this lodge. Twice it 
 was close to me. Once when the moon broke through the 
 drifts of clouds, I saw it quite plain, and perceived that it was 
 as white as the snow itself" 
 
 " A fellow in a white smock-frock, with a pocket full of 
 snares, and a short double-barrelled gun, the stock and barrels 
 separated for convenience and concealment," said the keeper. 
 " You ought to have seen the lurcher, too, for I'll pound it there 
 was one. A mittimus to the governor of Aylesbury jail, or 
 Oxford castle, lays ghosts of that sort for a time ; and the jaws 
 of a man-trap, or a charge out of a spring-gun, nicely set and 
 properly levelled, will do it sometimes more quickly and with 
 less trouble." 
 
 " You are too knowing, by half," said Mr. Bullfinch. " A 
 fellow a-foot keep up with Cowslip ! I suppose that if you 
 had been there it wouldn't have vanished into the air?" 
 
 " I don't think it would, especially as I should have had 
 Tiger at my heels," returned the keeper, grimly. " But it is 
 strange to hear you going on in this way, and to see you look- 
 
§6 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 ing so solemn. You have ridden through these woods on 
 nights quite .. unkid as this, and you've met all sorts of men 
 in all sorts of places." 
 
 " If this ^ad appeared as a man I should not have thought 
 so much of ," said Mr. Bullfinch, with great force and de- 
 liberation. 
 
 " Oh ! it appeared as a woman ! I have it ! Miriam Cots- 
 wold, dark Janet, or some other gal of their infernal tribe, on 
 the lookout while the men of the gang are after the roosting 
 pheasants. Your friend Gypsy Jack is at the bottom of this 
 here audacious job." 
 
 " It didn't appear as a woman, either. It came as a horse, 
 a white horse !" said the farmer. 
 
 "Well, what of that?" 
 
 " A good deal of it," said John tartly. " I think I know a 
 horse when I see one. • I ought to, for I was born the night 
 Pot-8-os was foaled, and have ridden for forty years. This 
 wasn't a real horse, but the apparition of one." 
 
 " What makes you believe it wasn't real t^ 
 
 " Two or three things. It didn't act like a real horse. Cow- 
 slip didn't act as if it was a real horse. I felt that it wasn't 
 a horse with four honest shoes on, made by a mortal black- 
 smith at an earthly forge." 
 
 He then told the story of his ride from the entrance into 
 the woods, and the earnest narrative was not without some im- 
 pression on the keeper. Moleskin filled his pipe, replenished 
 John's glass and his own, and looked fixedly at the farmer for 
 some moments. 
 
 " It is very strange," said he, musingly. " What I can't 
 make out is the white horse." 
 
 " Just so. I can't make it out myself" 
 
 " I don't mind telling you now," said the keeper, " but in 
 strict confidence, people have thought they saw something in 
 these woods before that was not just right. But then, you see, 
 it wasn't a white horse, but a brindled dog— a deerhound. 
 Some fifteen years ago one of my men was murdered by 
 poachers." 
 
 « I remember it. I saw the body, and a shocking sight it 
 was," said Mr. Bullfinch. 
 
 " So it was. Here lay the dog under a hawthorn bush, shot 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 37 
 
 through the head. A little further iu the thicket was the 
 man, with his breast blown in by a charge fired .;ight over the 
 heart, and close to him, for the powder burnt his clothes. 
 Several fellows, well-known poachers, were arrested on suspi- 
 cion, among them two gypsies, one of whom wa ; the brother 
 of your friend Jack, and the father of Miriam ^ swold. But 
 nothing could be brought home to them, and ixic murderers 
 were never detected. The Marquis, as in duty bound, pro- 
 vided for the widow and her children, but she was doleful in 
 these parts, and soon moved away, down into Northampton- 
 shire. Well, they say the man walks, and the dog along with 
 him, though Hector was my dog, not his ; and the story goes 
 among the old women, who profess to know, that he will walk 
 as long as the murderer lives. When he dies and goes to 
 judgment they say the weary spirit will find rest." 
 
 " Do you believe this. Moleskin ?" 
 
 " I don't know whether I do or not. I am, as you may say, 
 a lonely man, and my time is mostly spent in the gloom and 
 shadow of the woods. I was born under these oaks, and 
 hardly a night for fifty years but I have heard the hoot of 
 the owl among the ivy. I don't know whether I believe in 
 this reputed ghost or not, but I am sure I don't fear it." 
 
 " Did you ever see it ?" said the farmer. 
 
 " The man, never. I may have seen the dog. In these parts 
 there are but few like him. Some years ago I came upon a 
 brindled deerhound, near the spot where the man was mur- 
 dered, three nights running. At first I thought he was self- 
 hunting, but he always disappeared'at that particular spot, and 
 what's more, he left no tracks ; I brought a dark lantern and 
 examined the ground at night, as the rain would have washed 
 the footprints away by morning. On the third night I shot at 
 this dog, and what do you think happened ?" 
 
 " The gun missed fire or you missed." 
 
 '< The gun did not miss fire and I didn't miss. I am not in 
 the habit of missing. But .1 didn't hit, either. I shot at his 
 haunches. Instead of making off, he turned and looked me in 
 the face — full in the face ! John Bullfinch, as sure as you 
 and I sit here alive, he was shot in the head, instead of the 
 haunches ; and it w^as my old dog Hector, the one that was 
 killed when the man was murdered. Some say there's no soul, 
 
38 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 no spirit in a dog, to come back again ; but this dog did come 
 back." 
 
 " I have heard the same thing remarked about horses, and 
 hold it to be all a lie, the invention of people who have not 
 half the sense and affection of a good horse," said John. 
 
 " Still, this matter I have been relating throws no light up- 
 on the Avhite horse. May it not have been a white cart-horse 
 strayed ?" 
 
 " Cart-horse !" said John, with some contempt. " Do you 
 think there ever was a cart-horse that could keep alongside of 
 Cowslip, and she at speed ?" 
 
 " Well, I suppose not. But there's a white horse, an old 
 hunter, over at the Barleymow." 
 
 *' Flea-bitten gray, blind of an eye, and with a stringhalt," 
 said Mr. Bullfinch. He continued : " This had a thorough- 
 bred head, an eye like one bright star on a night of storm, 
 and its action must have been perfect — perfect !" 
 
 " Tom Scarlet is always getting all sorts of horses. It may 
 be a new one, escaped from The Grange and broke into the 
 woods on the far side." 
 
 " No such luck. It was an apparition ; that is what the 
 white horse was, and it portends something, probably a death." 
 
 " Come, none of that. I ain't going to die, nor you either, 
 you know," said the keeper. 
 
 " I hope not, Dick ; but Death and the White Horse is a 
 constant saying all the country through, and has been so ever 
 since I was a boy." 
 
 " It's the pale horse in the Bible, which I take to be a 
 shadowy sort of a cream. This saying about Death and the 
 White Horse was all along of a picture painted for old George 
 the Third," said Moleskin. 
 
 " I have seen it, and it is about as much like a real horse 
 as a hen ; not at all like the appearance of the horse I saw 
 to-night. Besides, if this was King Death's horse, he had 
 been throwed, for there was no rider on him," said John. 
 
 They sat and conversed for a short time further, but to no 
 end. Among all the appearances they could remember to 
 have heard of — some in old churchyards, some in crumbling 
 mansions, some on lonely heaths, where men all unprepared 
 for the taking off had been done to death ; some beneath gib- 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 39 
 
 bets, upon which the bones of criminals swung in the moaning 
 wind and hollowly rattled — there was none of a White Horse. 
 At length John started out, tightened the girths of the mare, 
 and, taking her by the bridle, led her along. The keeper, 
 with his gun in the hollow of his arm and with the mastiff at 
 his heels, walked with him, intending to go but a short dis- 
 tance. It was the dead time of the night. There was no yelp 
 from the fox. The owl was still, among the ivy of his hollow 
 tree. No cheerful crow came from a distant hen-roost. The 
 snow fell silently. The wind was hushed. The leaden sky 
 seemed to press down almost upon the tree-tops. Mist rose 
 breast-high from the swampy ground. The men and the mare 
 plodded along, with the mastifi' in their tracks. The ride they 
 took was a narrow one, and presently it fell into a deep swale, 
 in which alders and willows were mingled with the hazel and 
 the hawthorn. 
 
 " It was hereabouts that the man was " 
 
 The keeper stopped abruptly, for with a noise like the rush 
 of a whirlwind the mist was pushed aside, as it were, and a 
 white horse, dimly seen, swept by them at speed. The mastiff 
 followed with a savage howl. The men exchanged exclama- 
 tions, and the keeper felt the caps upon the nippks of his gun. 
 
 "If I had had a silver bullet in one of the barrels I should 
 have fired," said he. " No other metal will bring 'em down." 
 
 The dog came slinking back and retired behind them. 
 
 " Tiger's cowed for the first time in his life !" said the keeper. 
 " John, come back and stay with me till daylight. There are 
 things abroad that bode no good." 
 
 " Not I. Come what may I will go through !" 
 
 " Well, well, just come back till I melt half a crown and 
 run it through the bullet mould. With this gun and a brace 
 of silver bullets, I'd face the devil himself." 
 
 "And I will without them, if need be. I fear God, honor 
 the King, and say confound the devil and all his works !" 
 
 With this John Bullfinch mounted the mare, and uttering 
 a loud " Good-night," rode rapidly aw^ay. The keeper leaned 
 upon his gun for a few seconds, then cast a look upon his dog 
 and turned homewards. 
 
40 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 " Sir Leoline, the baron rich, 
 Hath a brindled mastiff bitch. 
 In her kennel, beneath the rock, 
 She makes answer to the clock. 
 Twelve for the quarters, 
 Four for the hour : 
 Sixteen short barks, not over loud ; 
 Some say she sees my lady's shroud." 
 
 IT was not a very uncommon thing for John Bullfinch to be 
 late at night, but it was seldom that he was late in the 
 morning, and ill at ease as well. After his midnight ride with 
 the White Horse-, he was gloomy and depressed, feeling that 
 something ill was about to happen, or to be disclosed. His 
 daughter had aired the county paper, and folded it by his 
 plate. He sat down to the meal with May and his son, but 
 ate nothing, and let the paper lie untouched. His eyes were 
 red, yet dull ; for the treacherous spirit of Cognac had changed 
 from ruby to blue. He stirred his coffee and seemed in deep 
 thought. The breakfast spoon in the cup made no such merry 
 music as that which had tinkled in the glass the night before 
 at the Wheatsheaf. He stared at the white cat and pondered. 
 A pigeon, flashiug past the window, like a wreath of snow, 
 made him start. He looked at May. 
 
 " I was late last night — very late — much later than I intended 
 to be. You didn't sit up ?" 
 
 " No, we did not ; but I was unable to sleep," replied May. 
 " Fury barked the live-long night, except just when you came 
 in. I can't think what ailed her." 
 
 " Tramps about, perhaps," said Young Jack ; " but I think 
 she wants a licking, and I had a great mind to get up and give 
 her one." 
 
 " It was well you didn't," said his father. '* If you had licked 
 Fury you might have got licked yourself. The bitch is a good 
 bitch, faithful and bold. She acted after her kind, and, no 
 doubt, had reason for what she did. I wish some boys were 
 half as true and sensible." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOR. 41 
 
 If they were no more sensible than to howl all night for 
 
 nothing " 
 
 Young Jack did not finish the sentence, for the door was 
 flung open by one of the farm men, and John Bullfinch cried : 
 
 " AVhat's the matter now ?" 
 
 " Murder is the matter now," said Moleskin, striding into 
 the room. 
 
 "No wonder Fury howled!" said May. 
 
 John Bullfinch sat aghast. What with the brandy blues, 
 the White Horse, and the tidings brought by Moleskin, he 
 was nearly confounded. 
 
 " Murder ! Why, how, and where, and who ?" 
 
 " As to who and where, it's easy to answer ; but how, and 
 why it was done, is another thing. I want you to ride over to 
 my lodge while I go for the doctor. I have had Stevens 
 taken there. He isn't quite dead, though senseless and left for 
 dead. He was found within forty yards of where you aud I 
 parted." 
 
 " I knowed it all along. I told you so, Dick !" exclaimed 
 John Bullfinch. 
 
 " Then, sir, if anybody else but you had said he knowed it 
 all along, I should have took him up as accessory before the 
 fact, which is just about as bad as the principal," cried another 
 comer. 
 
 It was the parish constable, a little red-nosed man, voluble 
 and restless, with high esteem of his own wisdom and station. 
 Parkins, besides being inquisitive and meddlesome by " var- 
 tue" of his ofiice, naturally was a busybody. He did not en- 
 tertain such a fair opinion of many of his neighbors as of 
 himself, but rather held in contempt many people who would 
 have been much surprised if they could have heard some of 
 his rapid soliloquies. He valued himself, in truth, very highly ; 
 first as " one of the authorities ;" second, as the one who was, 
 in his own expressive words, "not to be gammoned." His 
 neighbors, high aud low^, were estimated by a sort of sliding 
 scale, v/ith which their liberality in dispensio^ialt liquor had 
 much to do. Sir Jerry Suaflie, as one of the authorities. Chair- 
 man of the bench of Magistrates, stood high on that account, 
 but higher still because his ale was of rare excellence, and was 
 to be had at the Hall by whoever visited it, without so much 
 
42 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 as asking. Parkins often visited the mansion on one pretence 
 or another, and tersely expressed his opinion of the place and 
 its owner, thus: " Best quality, nut-brown, clear as amber, 
 sound as a bell — tap alius a-runniug." John Bullfinch did 
 not stand as high as Sir Jerry in the constable's mental barom- 
 eter, by some inches. John had backed prize-fighters, and 
 Parkins hated prize-fighters. They had once or twice " pitched 
 into the authorities," instead of keeping the King's peace when 
 solemnly commanded to do so. John suflfered gypsies to camp 
 in his green lanes, and Parkins abhorred gypsies, especially 
 Gypsy Jack. John had a sort of weakness in regard to pun- 
 ishing poachers, and a poacher was an abomination to Parkins. 
 ]\Ir. Bullfinch had once interceded for a shepherd boy taken 
 red-handed, as it w^ere, by Parkins, with a dead hare in pos- 
 session, and had so " gammoned the higher authorities" that 
 the culprit was released with a nominal fine. Still, there was 
 compensation, and Parkins summed it up as follows : " But his 
 brew is first-rate ; No. 1, brass tap, right hand side of the cel- 
 lar ! Best malt, double strike to the hogshead. East Kent 
 hops ; black horse brand ! Besides, his tankards is good meas- 
 ure — imperial. None o' them disgustin' and disappintin' false 
 bottoms with which some low people try to gammon the au- 
 thorities." Such was the man who had hastily entered while 
 Mr. Bullfinch was speaking. 
 
 " Parkins, shut up. I know what Mr. Bullfinch means and 
 it's all right," said the keeper. " Go with him and- examine 
 the tracks about the place where Stevens lay. You'll find Mr. 
 Bullfinch's and mine at no great distance, and the tracks of 
 his mare, for it left oflf snowing as I got home. But those are 
 not the tracks that are wanted. You may find the track of 
 another horse, whether shod or not I can't say. Report all 
 to me." 
 
 "Not shod — of course not," said John Bullfinch to the 
 keeper, in an undertone. 
 
 "Father," said Young Jack, "there's no use in letting 
 Moleskin go fofthe doctor. Pll throw the saddle on Young 
 Cowslip, and go myself I can be there in no time." 
 
 "The gig, Jack — the gray horse in the gig," said May. 
 " The doctor will be there much sooner that way than upon 
 his pony." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 43 
 
 The farmer looked round, and nodded acquiescence in what 
 had been advanced by his son and daughter. He then gave 
 his orders promptly. 
 
 " Saddle Black Hearty. IMoleskin, you shall ride Young 
 Cowslip. She is all ready, for Jack has been a-field. Parkins, 
 you must come on a-foot." 
 
 " One minute/' said May Bullfinch ; " Stevens is a married 
 man." 
 
 " Yes, with five children," returned the keeper ; " and how 
 to break this bad news to his wife I don't know. Of course, 
 if it comes to the worst, the Marquis will provide for the 
 family ; but when the wife first hears of it there will be a 
 terrible taking on ; and I never could bear to see a woman in 
 great ajnd sudden grief" 
 
 " Nor I neither," said John. " But here's May ; I see what 
 she means to do." 
 
 " Yes, I will break this fearful news to his wife ; and may 
 Our Father in heaven see fit, in his mercy, to save this \)ooy 
 man to her and the little children." 
 
 " Very proper on her part," said Parkins, as May left the 
 room. " I have always said she was a good 'un, A deal too 
 good to be throwed away on such a scamp as Tom Scarlet," he 
 added in an undertone. Then aloud, " As there will be much 
 to do by the authorities — somebody to be took up and jugged 
 • — my opinion is that a horn of ale apiece, before we set out 
 on the investigation, will be the right way to begin." 
 
 John Bullfinch made a sign to his housekeeper, and Parkins 
 soon had his face buried in a tankard. Neither the farmer 
 nor the keeper drank. The former betrayed signs of impa- 
 tience, as Black Hearty and Young Cowslip were now at the 
 door. 
 
 " We needn't be in a great hurry. AVe shall be there long 
 before the doctor," said the keeper. " I only hope there is a 
 chance for life. Stevens was one of my best men." 
 
 "A good, stout fellow, and feared nothing," replied Mr. 
 Bullfinch. 
 
 " A quarrelsome blade, gentlemen, known to the authorities, 
 and been had up three or four times for assault and battery," 
 observed Parkins. " Now, who do you suspect of this here 
 murder, master keeper?" 
 
44 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " I have not formed any suspicion yet — have you ?" replied 
 Moleskin. 
 
 AVith his head on one side, and the cunning look of a jack- 
 daw, the constable laid his finger to his nose and winked 
 portentously. " Mum's the word now. When the parties be 
 took up and in safe holt, I'll let you know as much as I do." 
 
 " Which is just nothing at all, I exjject," said the keeper, as 
 Parkins went away. 
 
 John Bullfinch and Moleskin followed, and,'being mounted, 
 quickly passed the constable. They rode along some distance 
 in silence, but as they neared the wood the farmer said : 
 
 "And you think he is fatally injured? Has anybody ques- 
 tioned him ?" 
 
 " It's of no use ; he is out of his senses, and all over blood 
 from wounds in the head. I'm afraid his skull is broken." 
 
 *' With what weapon, think you — a bludgeon or the stock 
 of a gun?" said John. 
 
 " I didn't stay to examine, and it will be hard to say ; he 
 mumbled a little as I leaned over him, and I made out a few 
 wandering words. What do you think he said ?" 
 
 " Something about his wife and children, no doubt." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind ; his mind seemed to be upon what 
 he saw, or thought he saw, at the time of the attack. I couldn't 
 understand much that he muttered, but he mentioned the name 
 of Tom Scarlet, and spoke of a white horse." 
 
 " Dick, I'm amazed !" cried John Bullfinch. 
 
 " Well, I don't know that I am much. There was a white 
 horse about there, we know. Now that violence has been done, 
 I have chucked over the notion of anything supernatural. It's 
 a good deal too natural when it comes to murder. The ghosts 
 of men don't break heads in the dark, nor the ghosts of horses 
 kick their brains out." 
 
 " But Tom Scarlet— I know he's rash and wild, but I can- 
 not believe he did this thing ; he had no enmity against Ste- 
 vens," said John. 
 
 " He has queer associates for a man of his property and 
 belongings, has Mr. Tom Scarlet," said the keeper ; " he's hail 
 fellow \\ii\\ the gypsies, and hand and glove with a set of men 
 from London and Brunmiagcm, who dress well, drink hard, 
 ride fine horses, and live the Lord knows how. I wish I knew 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 45 
 
 what sort of company supped at the Grange last night. This 
 job was not done till nigh morning. I could tell that by the 
 blood, and by Stevens's watch, which stopped at about four." 
 
 " It looks bad — it looks avvkward ; but I do not believe that 
 Tom did it." 
 
 " He may have been with the man who did it, though," 
 returned Moleskin. " But we will say nothing of this to Par- 
 kins. The first thing is to know whether it's death or some 
 chance for life." 
 
 These were the last words that passed until they reached the 
 lodge, where they found Stevens still in a heavy stupor. The 
 doctor came, examined the wounds, and talked as doctors do. 
 
 "A critical case; compound fracture; great danger that 
 inflammation would set in ; concussion of the brain ; the worst 
 results to be apprehended, but still some hope, with judicious 
 
 treatment. Good thing I was sent for instead of , 
 
 a — a — a person of no experience !" 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 ^' The chough and the crow 
 To roost have gone, 
 
 The owl sits on the tree; 
 The night wind makes its fitful moan, 
 
 Like infant charity. 
 The wild fire dances in the glen — 
 
 The red star sheds its ray — 
 TJprouse ye, then, my merry, merry men ! 
 
 It is our opening day." 
 
 WHEN John Bullfinch parted with Gypsy Jack at the 
 turn of the lands, that worthy cantered along until he 
 was two or three miles from the turnpike road. He then filled 
 a short pipe, struck a light, and puffing away merrily, went 
 briskly forward between the tall hedges of the lane. The 
 gypsies seldom spare their horses, and Jack was about the last 
 man in England to spare his when there was service to be 
 done. 
 
 The wiry galloway, too, had good blood in him, and went 
 gaily up to the bit as though he would never tire, unless the 
 
46 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 pace was set too strong. The way the gypsy was travelling 
 was seldom used except by poachers, tramps, and the people 
 of his own roving race. Gypsy Jack, however, had no desire 
 for company, and the loneliness of the situation and the mur- 
 kiness of the night rather suited him than otherwise. A 
 smart canter of five or six miles brought him to the verge of 
 a wide, wild heath. It was a sombre-looking place, even when 
 the clumps of gorse, which grew here and there, could be seen. 
 Now it was one waste of snow below, and cloud above, save 
 far to the right, where a red glow rose like the reflection of a 
 fire from the mouth of a pit or a lime-kiln. The gypsy rode 
 towards it. He drew bridle, after some time, near a deep 
 hollow, in the bight of which a party of his people had pitched 
 their tents. The embers of the huge fire were all aglow in the 
 bottom of the glen, and though the tents, with their covering 
 of snow, could not be distinguished from the white ground. 
 Jack readily made out the forms of the horses and donkeys 
 hobbled at the camp. It was no part of his design to show 
 himself. He reined up under the lee of a thick clump of 
 gorse and gave a low whistle. Five minutes had not elapsed 
 before the gorse was parted where the gypsy sat on his horse, 
 and a boy of some fourteen years old stepped silently out, like 
 a young wolf, from his lair. 
 
 " I thought you wasn't a-going to come at all. You've been 
 away near a week, and me with such news as never was," said 
 the boy. 
 
 " I was detained. "What is this news ?" returned Jack. 
 
 " Jagger come down from Lunnon town," replied the boy. 
 
 " I know it. I met Harry Cox at the fair." 
 
 " Then you expected him, perhaps ?" 
 
 " Perhaps I did, but not quite so soon," replied Jack. " How- 
 ever, as he's here, he must come to a settlement." 
 
 " He won't come to anything of the sort," said the boy, con- 
 fidently. 
 
 "Why not, Ike?" 
 
 " Because he's gone again." 
 
 " Ah, but he'll return. He dare not try to give me the slip, 
 or Tom Scarlet either," said Jack. 
 
 " But he's done it. He's off by the north road to-night ; and, 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 47 
 
 what is more, Tom of Lincoln, who was in hiding, packs up 
 his bundle, and goes off, too, by the Oxford road." 
 
 " Which shows that he ain't going with Jagger." 
 
 " Does it ?" said the boy. " I followed him at a distance. 
 When he thought he was w^ell away, he cut right across coun- 
 try for the Barleymow. I went upon the scout, and from what 
 I heard they're off before uow\" 
 
 " What horses had Jagger ?" said Jack. 
 
 " Two — a bay and a gray." 
 
 " Dark or light ?" 
 
 "Dark — an iron-gray with black legs." 
 
 " You see they can't mean going fast or far, for, with the 
 groom, they are three men to two horses. Tom of Lincoln 
 and the groom must ride double. Tom Scarlet and I can 
 start in the morning, and catch them this side of Stratford," 
 said Jack. 
 
 " Aye ; but, uncle, it's my belief they know precious well 
 where to find another horse ; for they had a spare saddle and 
 bridle. Besides, Miriam W'Ormed it out of the groom that he 
 thinks they are bound tor Liverpool, and so across the herring 
 pond to Xorth Ameriky." 
 
 The elder gypsy swore a great oath, and remained a few 
 minutes in deep thought, while the boy stood with his hand 
 on his uncle's knee. 
 
 " Ike, it's a do — a dead sell ! Jagger's an out-and-out vil- 
 lain, for which there's no excuse, as he's rich. He means to 
 do Tom Scarlet, and what's worse, to do me — me, who have 
 always been fair and honest as a dealer, and in other trans- 
 actions." 
 
 " He does. So does Tom of Lincoln, who w^as harbored in 
 our own tents." 
 
 "Aye ! he's another nice 'un. Wants to go over the herring 
 pond. Well, so he shall, but in another direction, where 
 there's a place well beknown to some of his kin, called Botany 
 Bay. What puzzles me is the other horse; yet he was in 
 Lincolnshire, dark like and — but jump up. We must go to 
 Tom Scarlet at once. So now ! clip me under the arms and 
 away we go !" 
 
 " I say !" cried the young gypsy, as they galloped over the 
 
48 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 heath, " didn't I make a good pLant upon 'em ? Where would 
 you have been if I hadn't been on the lookout ?" 
 
 " It was good — very well done ; but no better than I had a 
 right to expect, considering." 
 
 " Considering what ?" said Ike, with some disgust. 
 
 " Considering your bringings up ; the advantages you've 
 enjoyed in having had an uncle like me to look after your edi- 
 cation, and put you up to the time o' day," replied the 
 guardian. 
 
 " Now, you pull up and let me get down," said the boy. 
 '' If this is all you've got to say after I've been on the scout 
 two nights and a day, laying in ditches and listening in at 
 winders, without winking or flinching, you go on and rouse 
 Tom Scarlet yourself. And mind that there bloodhound, for 
 he's let loose o' nights, and if he grabs you by the throat " 
 
 He did not finish the sentence, for his uncle seized him by 
 the wrist and spurred rapidly on towards the Grange. 
 
 Gj^psy Jack pulled up at the gate of a straw-yard, divided 
 by a lane from an old orchard. The house itself stood apart 
 from the farm buildings, a solid "stone structure, frowning 
 through the night upon these visitors, as it seemed. There 
 was, however, a light stirring in a stable to the right. 
 
 " Now, Ike," said the gypsy, in a low voice, " you know all 
 the dogs, and you know his room. Get him up, and bring 
 him here without letting any of the men hear you. Stop ! one 
 word more : if you see anybody else tell 'em that " 
 
 " The night flies apace, and there'll be the d — 1 to pay in 
 the morning !" was said close to his side. 
 
 " You here, Miriam ! By the heavens ! but you startled 
 me. Girl, I have told you to keep clear of Tom Scarlet. 
 What brings you here at this time of the night ?" 
 
 " What brings you and Ike, if it comes to that ?" 
 
 " I may go where a lass has no right to go. I had business 
 here," replied Jack. 
 
 " So had I," said Miriam. 
 
 " What business ?" 
 
 " To put Tom Scarlet on the right scent," said the girl. 
 Then she drew her shawl about her head and tripped away, 
 singing, 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOJST. 49 
 
 " ! the bonny White Horse, 
 To Banbury Cross, 
 
 He gallops away, away ? 
 The Scarlet and Gold, 
 And the chestnut bold, 
 
 May catch him by break of day." 
 
 Gypsy Jack and his hopeful nephew looked after their niece 
 and cousin until her form was lost in the gloom, and a burst 
 of light flashed forth from the stable. First came a man with 
 a lantern, then another leading by the bridle the horse Danger ; 
 and he was followed by Tom Scarlet, booted and spurred, and 
 putting caps on the nipples of a brace of pistols. They came 
 on to where the gypsy and his nephew were posted, when the 
 Master of the Grange said : 
 
 " This is a sudden move, Jack. I'm glad you've come, that 
 we may have a short talk before I go. I did not know that 
 Miriam had told you." 
 
 " She had not. Of Jagger's being here, I heard at Ayles- 
 bury from Harry Cox. Of course I thought he had come to 
 square things; but now I learn from Ike, and partly from 
 Miriam, that he means nothing but a double cross, one on you 
 and one on me. But what has Miriam said that you are iii 
 such hot haste? She is my sister's child, Mr. Scarlet, remem- 
 ber that ; and this scampering over the country by night and 
 all alone, is not good for her." 
 
 " Miriam can take care of herself, Jack ; and you may swear 
 she'll never come to harm, if I can help it. She's as true as 
 steel in every way. The lasses of your race are unlike the 
 country girls of our folk." 
 
 " True enough," returned the gypsy, " but people have said 
 that she is too free with you, and I stand to her in place of 
 her father and mother, both of whom she lost when young. 
 But now to this business ! Ike, stand further off and no listen- 
 ing to what passes between the gentleman and me. It's a 
 private affair." 
 
 " Private be bio wed! I know more about it already than 
 you do," said the boy. 
 
 " Silence, you scamp, and cut it, until I call you. Now, Mr. 
 Scarlet, what do you mean to do — shall I go with you ?" 
 
 " No, better not. I find from what Miriam says that Jag- 
 ger brought the AYhite Horse into this neighborhood, and hid 
 4 
 
50 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 him away somewhere until he got the quittance I had left for 
 him at Oxford. He's also got a pot of money. Instead of 
 delivering the horse to me, as the bargain calls for, he means 
 to run him off to America and chisel all his creditors in this 
 country. Tom of Lincoln is glad to get away, and having a 
 natural bent towards roguery, is now in with Jagger." 
 
 " I'll have him in Aylesbury Jail or Oxford Castle before 
 he's four-and-twenty hours older," said the gypsy, vindictively. 
 "I've sheltered that fellow for months, and the London and 
 country beaks all after him. Besides, this here villain, Jag- 
 ger, owes me a matter of above eighty pounds, thirty for a 
 gray gelding, and the other cold money — lent, paid down on 
 the nail. Now, what are you going to do ?" 
 
 " I shall ride straight to the Barleymow. If I find Jagger 
 there I will take him by the throat, and make him tell where 
 the White Horse is. If he is n^ot there I shall follow him. 
 He cannot get away from Danger and me." 
 
 "I had better go with you," said the gypsy. "Tom of Lin- 
 coln may show fight if you are alone, but before me he'll be as 
 quiet as a lamb." 
 
 " The people of the house will be on my side," replied Tom. 
 " Besides, I am man enough for Jagger and the Lincoln man 
 together. Then I have these," he added, pulling one of the 
 pistols from his pocket. 
 
 " Beware of using 'em," said the gypsy. " It makes no end 
 of trouble, the pulling of a trigger does, even when one is in 
 the right. Remember, my claim against Jagger is more than 
 eighty pound — a little more. Tell him to settle it if he wants 
 to escape the beaks, and save his companion from making a 
 voyage in a transport ship." 
 
 " I will get your money. Meantime, stay here and send 
 your scouts out. When they find I am sharp on their track 
 they may double back." 
 
 " Every road and byway shall be looked to,'* said the gypsy. 
 " I'll set a plant for them they little think of. Did you ever 
 hear of such a rogue as Jagger, and him rich ? If a poor 
 man gets strapped, and has to bolt, it is another matter." 
 
 "Jack," said Tom Scarlet, ".I must be moving. Ike, here's 
 a couple of half crowns for you. Good-night!" 
 
 He mounted the chestnut horse. Danger gave a snort and 
 
THE WHITE HOFSE OF WOOTTOK 51 
 
 a buck jump into the air, but his master was iu the saddle. 
 He landed on all fours, and went away at a gallop. 
 
 "Jump up," said Gypsy Jack to his nephew. 
 
 " There goes a good 'un !" said the boy. 
 
 " Ay, a thoroughbred 'un ! A cock of true game, but too 
 hasty for real serious business. You see, for some matters it 
 takes a deep, cool head," said the gypsy. 
 
 " Yourn, I suppose," returned the boy, with some irony in 
 his tone. 
 
 " Ay, mine. Now, look here ! you think Tom Scarlet's gone 
 after Jagger and Tom of Lincoln." 
 
 " I sartainly do," said the boy. 
 
 " Weil, then, he isn't. Particular business, which you -and 
 I know nothing about, has called him down into Warwick- 
 shire," said the gypsy, coolly. 
 
 " I never heard that the Barleymow was in Warwickshire 
 afore. I thought it was in Northamptonshire," said the boy, 
 
 "And I tell you it's none of your business where it is. Tom 
 Scarlet isn't gone there." 
 
 "Do you think you can gammon me like this here?" said 
 the nephew, with huge contempt. 
 
 " Well, you are one of our family, and we ain't easily hum' 
 bugged, that's true. But mind now, mum's the word for the 
 present ! Recollect, you're asleep in the tent this blessed min- 
 ute, and have been ever since dark, if anybody axes you." 
 
 " I know what to say. But nobody will ax me ; they know 
 it's of no use," said Ike. 
 
 " All right ! Hand over them half crowns ; I'll take care 
 of 'em for you," said Jack. 
 
 " Walker ! I'll take care on 'em myself." 
 
 " You'll play at pitch and hustle, and lose every penny, be- 
 sides being pulled by Parkins, or the beadle, for being at it in 
 church time," said the gypsy. 
 
 " How do you know as I won't win ?" cried the boy. 
 
 " Why it stands to reason," returned Jack. " Here are yoUj 
 a boy of twelve " 
 
 " Fourteen !" cried Ike. 
 
 " Well, here you are, a boy, playing with men, grooms, and 
 helpers, and what not, that have been at Newmarket, and 
 Epsom, and Melton Mowbray " 
 
52 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " Aiu't I been there, too ?" said the nephew, interruptiDg 
 him. " Besides, if I am a boy, I'm a gypsy boy, and up to 
 things. Do you think them chuckle-heads can do me f You're 
 a-thinkiu' of your own losses when Young Dutch Sam walked 
 into you for the price of a good horse at cribbage." 
 
 " If you say another word I'll pitch you off," exclaimed his 
 uncle, in a rage. Then, after a long pause, he added : " The 
 cards fell agen me that night." 
 
 "They generally do when you play with Sam," said the 
 boy. 
 
 " Sam's a Jew," replied the gypsy, " and they're a people 
 that have got a genius for games of that sort — it comes natu- 
 ral. However cute and wary a man may be, he can't do the 
 Jews, and in the long run they'll do him, if he tries it on. 
 Therefore, Ike, avoid 'em through life in ticklish transactions ; 
 but in matters of buying and selling deal with 'em. There's 
 no better or more liberal business men than the Jews, when 
 they know you're on the square yourself" 
 
 In all probability this wisdom was the fruit of experience, 
 but it may also be that the "liberal business men" the gypsy 
 alluded to had very seldom found that he was " on the square '* 
 himself. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " Whicli be the malefactor! 
 
 FOR the creation of sensation wide and deep in a quiet rural 
 neighborhood, nothiug is so effective as murder, arson, 
 highway robbery, housebreakiug, or violence which appears to 
 have been attempt at murder. Ministries may go out ; dynas- 
 ties may change ; foreign thrones may topple ; great convul- 
 sions of nature may happen, and the rustic goes on ploughing, 
 sowing, reaping, mowing, and keeping his beasts afield without 
 much concerning himself in such matters. But let Sir John's 
 keei)er be shot at in the ash spinney, Farmer Bullock's stack- 
 yard be fired, the steward be knocked off his mare and robbed 
 of forty pounds, or even Gafier Goodman's geese be stolen, and 
 the whole country side is aroused. Squire, parson, yeoman, 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 53 
 
 constable, bcadic and bumpkin seize upon the one theme for 
 gossip and declamation. The landlord thrives. There is vast 
 consumption of nut-brown ale and tobacco. Magistrates ride 
 to and fro. Officers wear an air of portentous mystery. 
 
 For weeks after the events before related there was but one 
 topic in the hundred of Eidingcumstoke, and no more to epcak 
 of in the hundreds adjacent. The attempt to murder Stevens 
 was on every tongue, and so was the flight of Tom Scarlet. 
 And yet, according to the majority, these things w^re what 
 they had always expected and confidently predicted. For a 
 few days Parkins had maintained an air of cautious wisdom 
 and frozen silence, but under the influence of the tap at The 
 George and Crown he thawed, and revealed to a chosen few 
 the ramifications of a great conspiracy in which Tom Scarlet, 
 Gypsy Jack, Miriam Cotsw^old, and Young Ike were the prin- 
 cipals, and John Bullfinch, Moleskin, and perhaps the Marquis 
 of Woottou, the intended victims. The Eadicals, Parkins 
 thought, were at the bottom of it. The Marquis was a known 
 *' Church and King " man, so -was the keeper, so was John 
 Bullfinch. It w^as true that the Scarlets had always been 
 staunch Tories time out of mind, but Tom was known to have 
 been in communication with men from London and Birming- 
 ham, and, besides, having been flatly refused the hand of Mav 
 Bullfinch, he had come into the plot, partly for revenge and 
 partly with a view to carry her off* to foreign parts. Then 
 again, the gypsies, as Parkins had always declared to the 
 authorities (and more's the pity that he wasn't listened to), 
 ought to have been transported long ago. Having hit upon 
 this theory, the constable turned it over so often in his mind 
 that, by a natural process, he came to believe it, and not only 
 revealed it to the chosen few at The George, in whose age and 
 discretion he could confide, but to the butler and page at Sir 
 Jerry Snafile's, where he called every day to report progress. 
 He enjoined secrecy, but of course the page hurried with the 
 news to the housekeeper, the ladies' maid, and the cook ; while 
 the butler was on thorns, as he metaphorically expressed it, 
 until he had the opportunity of telling it to the steward, a man 
 of much sagacity and decision of character, charged with the 
 collection of the rents of Sir Jerry Snaflle's two estates. The 
 page was rather large for his livery, and much communication 
 
54 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 with the huntsman, the whippers-in, and the hunting-grooms 
 had so excited his ambition in regard to sport, that he was 
 really above his buttons. He addressed the eager ladies, after 
 having related what Parkins had said with a few embellish- 
 ments, after this manner : 
 
 They knew something of poachers and poaching — he (the 
 page) did, for unfortunately his mother's brother had been 
 taken up for it, unjustly, four or live times. None of his 
 father's relatives — bar two — had ever been charged with it, 
 and they were acquitted. Therefore, it must be admitted that 
 poachers were up to anything. The ladies were, of course, 
 familiar with gypsies 
 
 " Not at all !" cried the cook and the ladies' maid promptly, 
 though the fact was that Miriam Cotsvvold had told their for- 
 tunes for a shilling a-piece, and cheap at the money. 
 
 The page meant familiar with their disposition to depreda- 
 tion and crime. Perhaps they had heard of pirates. Now, 
 he had it from the postboy at the Wheatsheaf that a sailor of 
 dark and sinister appearance had held a long consultation with 
 Gypsy Jack in the inn-yard the very day before Stevens was 
 assailed, and there was no doubt he was one of the gang. 
 
 " Why ain't they arrested ?" said the cook. 
 
 " Because they ran away — bolted," replied the page, " be- 
 fore the warrants were out." 
 
 It was true that Tom Scarlet had left the neighborhood, and 
 that the gypsies, after the manner of their people, had silently 
 disappeared, so that, in the glen where their ponies had browsed 
 and their fires had blazed, there Vv'as nothing but white ashes 
 when the keeper went to reconnoitre the ground. 
 
 " And so," said Farmer Stubbs, after listening to the recital 
 of Parkins for about the tenth time, " all this here has been 
 done and nobody took up." 
 
 There was that in the farmer's tone which might imply some 
 doubt of the constable's vigilance and activity. 
 
 " You see," said Parkins, " when there's a case of this kind, 
 people mustn't be took up haphazard. They must be pulled 
 according to law, and they can't very well be pulled when they 
 have cut away and given leg-bail for security. Now, Scarlet 
 has cleared himself out of the country, no doubt ; Gypsy Jack 
 is also out of our jurisdiction, besides which, the magistrate's 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 55 
 
 clerk and Moleskiu say there's no evidence to keep him, if I 
 had him in holt." 
 
 " Then the amount of it is, that as Stevens is getting better, 
 nobody'll be took up at all," said Stubbs. 
 
 " Won't there, though ? From information I have received, 
 I think I may venture to say, that I shall pull somebody in 
 less than three days." 
 
 " On this account ?" 
 
 " On this here account. You just wait for two, or, say, three 
 days." 
 
 But though Parkins had it cut and dried, and many agreed 
 with him, there was a minority who either remained in doubt, 
 or were satisfied that Tom Scarlet had had no hand in the 
 crime. This minority included John Bullfinch and the keeper. 
 Still, they could not account for his prolonged absence from 
 the Grange, and could gather nothing from his men as to his 
 whereabouts or probable return. Moleskin, silent, active and 
 wary, pushed his quest in every direction, but nothing had 
 come of it. 
 
 " I can't account for his not being here," said John. 
 
 " I can't account for that white horse being there," replied 
 Moleskin. " Gypsy Jack, Miriam, and Ike have disappeared, 
 too — gone like bubbles on the stream. The tribe is now in 
 Bedfordshire, but neither Jack nor Miriam nor the nevy is 
 with them. I have had a man among them, and I know it." 
 
 " He can't have gone off with Miriam — hey, Dick ?" 
 
 " I think not," said the keeper, " for my opinion is, that he 
 was dead struck after your daughter May. Still, as a bache- 
 lor, I don't pretend to much knowledge — I mean knowledge 
 from experience — of that sort of thing. We must wait, and 
 we'll say nothing about the white horse for the present Ste- 
 vens is out of danger, and slowly recovering. He says he saw 
 a white horse just before he was struck, but who beat him 
 down he cannot say. As soon as I hear of anything to the 
 purpose I will come over." 
 
 Mr. Parkins had examined Stevens many times, and had 
 been sorely puzzled by this white horse. It was clearly impli- 
 cated, and if he could have found one in the neighborhood 
 answering the description, he would have thought it his duty 
 to " pull it up." In vain he re-examined and cutely cross- 
 
56 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 examined Stevens. In vain he had over from the nearest 
 market town a tippling, red-nosed man in rusty black, a law- 
 yer's clerk, who plied the under-keeper with leading questions, 
 and consumed many tumblers of hot gin-and-water. AH would 
 not do. They could neither get the white horse out of the 
 case, nor, properly saddled and bridled, into it. He was run- 
 ning loose. The turnpike man was questioned. Had he seen 
 Tom Scarlet on the morning in question ? He had. The 
 young man had passed through his gate soon after daybreak. 
 
 " On a white horse ?" 
 
 " Not a bit of it. On a dark chestnut — the hunter Danger." 
 
 The lawyer's clerk had another round or two of gin-and- 
 water, and then " summed up" by informing Parkins that if 
 ever the case came to trial, the counsel for the defence would 
 ride that white horse clean through the indictment. 
 
 May Bullfinch, innocent as the dove, if not timid as the 
 fawn, had been shocked and deeply pained by the affair. She 
 believed Tom Scarlet to be innocent, and her brother Jack 
 maintained the same with such vigor and emphasis, that he 
 greatly reassured her and fortified her conviction. Explana- 
 tions ! Did May think he should take the trouble to explain 
 a charge made by Parkins ? 
 
 The truth was that Parkins had been much exasperated by 
 the conduct of Young Jack since the morning of the discovery. 
 He was "flying in the face of the law, manifesting contempt 
 for the authorities, and had better be careful — accessories after 
 the fact could be pulled." 
 
 May visited the under-keeper's cottage nearly every day, 
 taking him wine and such delicacies as the doctor allowed him 
 to have. She was greatly liked by Stevens and his wife, and 
 ^Yas the prime favorite of the children. So great and so ap- 
 parent had her influence with the family become, that the 
 astute and vigilant Parkins, to use his own expression, "smelt 
 a rat" in that quarter. She would sway their minds and mould 
 the man's evidence so as to clear Tom Scarlet. Justice would 
 be defeated. The felony would be compounded and hushed uj), 
 and nobody so much as pulled, even for a preliminary exami- 
 nation upon probable cause, unless he, Parkins, watched her 
 stratagems, detected her manoeuvres, and defeated her plans. 
 
 May sat in the front room of the cottage with the brown, 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 57 
 
 curly-headed little boys and girls of the Stevens household all 
 about her. A feast of nuts and cakes, with bread and rasp- 
 berry jam, was interrupted by a question to May from their 
 father, as to whether any news had yet been heard of Tom 
 Scarlet. 
 
 " There is none," replied May. " My brother was at the 
 Grange yesterday. The men neither know where he is nor 
 when he is likely to return." 
 
 "It's queer, yery queer!" said Steyens, passing his hand 
 before his eyes. " I haye been considering things, and I think 
 that he didn't do this job for me." 
 
 "Oh, Steyens, I am so glad — so very glad to hear this from 
 you," said May. " I always felt certain that he was incapable 
 of such a thing." 
 
 " Well, Miss, I dunno as to that. It was pretty well settled 
 that he was a yery hard hitter when his blood was up, and I 
 don't doubt his capacity at all, but I think it wasn't him." 
 
 " I am sure it was not," said May. 
 
 " And I be sure as it was. Now, what have you got to say 
 to that ?" exclaimed the constable, rubbing his pimpled nose 
 with the nob of his walking stick, as he stood in the doorway 
 and surveyed the group. 
 
 The children hid themselves. Stevens told Parkins to come 
 in, and the latter entered. May Bullfinch met him. 
 
 " What right have you to say that ? What are your reasons ? 
 Where are your proofs ?" The female Bullfinch seemed in- 
 clined to fly at him and peck him, as birds do those who molest 
 their young in the nest. 
 
 " Reasons ! I don't give no reasons to nobody ; not even to 
 their honors on the bench. Proofs ! proofs ain't to be called 
 for in this stage of the investigation," said the learned consta- 
 ble, in some heat. " I know he done it, and that's enough. If 
 anybody else had done it I should have pulled 'em. If he 
 hadn't abscondulated, I should have pulled him." 
 
 " If he hadn't what ?" said May. 
 
 "Cut it, mizzled, bolted, run away!" The learned consta- 
 ble would no doubt have added "skedaddled," if that express- 
 ive word had been then in use, but it was not. 
 
 " I don't care for all that. I don't believe it was him," said 
 Stevens. 
 
58 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 
 
 " You don't believe it was him as done it," said Parkins, 
 with slowness and severity. " Didn't you think you saw him ? 
 Ain't there a warrant out? You don't think he done it! 
 What's the meaning of this here prevarication ? Is it the re- 
 sult of a bargain, an unlawful bargain, to compound the 
 felony?" 
 
 " Compound be blowed — there's no prevarication about it. 
 I don't think he struck me, and so I shall swear," said Stevens. 
 
 " That's right, Stevens. It's the truth, and do you stick to 
 it," said May. 
 
 " Miss Bullfinch, you be interfering with this case, and sug- 
 gesting things to the witness, clean agen the law, and in op- 
 position to the authorities and the course of justice," said the 
 learned constable. 
 
 " Justice ! to put the crime upon an innocent and absent 
 man. Here is the only person that can know anything about 
 it, except the perpetrators, and he says Mr. Scarlet is not 
 guilty of it." 
 
 " I know he does, and it's a precious nice statement for him 
 to make. But I see it all !" said Parkins, eyeing a bottle on 
 a side table. "You've been giving him drink, and it's flew to 
 his head. That's what's the matter with him." 
 
 " No more than the doctor ordered," said Stevens. 
 
 " This is merely sherry wine, and you may see that the cork 
 has not been drawn," said May. 
 
 " Well, then, draw it at once. I don't care if I take a drop 
 with him myself. Miss," said the placable constable. " Sherry 
 wine, sich as your fiither keeps and has had on hand ever since 
 your brother's christening, is suverin as a cordial for sick peo- 
 ple, and wun't do them in health any harm. All the author- 
 ities agree in this." 
 
 " It was intended for the patient only, but here, sir," she 
 replied, handing him a glass, after some movement among the 
 bottles. 
 
 Mr. Parkins accepted, and drank a very fair dose of physic 
 before he discovered the trick put upon him. He dashed down 
 the glass with an oath, and was about to leave, when he was 
 met in the doorway by John Bullfinch and the keeper. 
 
 " What's the row, now ?" said John. 
 
 "Oh, nothing — nothing, except a plan to compound the 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 59 
 
 felony, and save Scarlet from transportation. That's all !" 
 said the indignant constable. 
 
 Moleskin pushed by him to the easy-chair in which Stevens 
 was seated. 
 
 " Bill," said he, " you seem to be doing pretty well under 
 the care of your wife and Miss May Bullfinch." 
 
 " Miss Bullfinch has done as much for me as the doctor, if 
 not more. I shall teach my children to say, 'God bless 
 her !' " said Stevens. 
 
 " We want to hear your account of this matter once more. 
 Every word and everything," said Moleskin, impressively. 
 
 " Stop !" said the constable, beckoning Moleskin to a corner. 
 "All this here'll be irregular, and, I may say, agen the law. 
 Mr. Bullfinch is not in the King's commission and confi- 
 dence." 
 
 " No, but he is in that of the Marquis and Sir Jerry Snaffle, 
 and, unless you are a fool, that will be enough for you," 
 returned Moleskin. 
 
 Parkins assented, but not with a good grace. 
 
 " Have you made any further discovery, Parkins ?" said 
 John Bullfinch. 
 
 " Seeing that Tom Scarlet done it, there's no more to be 
 made, except to find out his accomplices and pull 'eai up," the 
 constable replied, with a dark look at May. 
 
 They then turned to Stevens. He recapitulated minutely 
 all that he remembered, winding up with the declaration that 
 he could not swear to anybody as having struck him, but was 
 satisfied, in his own mind, that Tom Scarlet did not. Whether 
 he was there or not he could not say. 
 
 The constable flew into a rage, but suddenly cooled down 
 at Moleskin's stern eye and the hot look of John Bullfinch. 
 
 " I have a great opinion of the practical experience and 
 sagacity of Moleskin in matters of this sort," said John. " He 
 has made a discovery and a suggestion " 
 
 The learned constable was about to interrupt and protest 
 against this, but the farmer waved him aside and continued, 
 authoritatively : " I say, a discovery which is important and a 
 suggestion which is wise." 
 
 " What's the discovery ? Never mind the suggestion !" said 
 the little man, with some sarcasm. 
 
60 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " The discovery is, that Gypsy Jack is in this neighborhood 
 again," replied Mr. Bullfinch. 
 
 The constable was sorely vexed. Jack in his old haunts ; 
 the keeper and John Bullfinch with knowledge of it ; and he, 
 the constable, one of the constituted authorities, with a char- 
 acter for craft and vigilance at stake, in entire ignorance. He 
 looked blankly at them and said, " He shall be took up forth- 
 with." 
 
 " A bad plan," said the keeper ; " there's no evidence against 
 him ; nothing to hold him on." 
 
 " No, none at all," Mr. Bullfinch continued, " but Moleskin 
 suggests that, under the circumstances, he is sure to know 
 more or less, and it is our business to get all the information 
 we can out of him. We must draw for Jack as hounds draw 
 a cover, for he's as cunning as an old dog fox." 
 
 " Of course he'll tell all he knows when you question him," 
 said the ironical constable. " But it's all right ; proceed in 
 your own way ; and when you have got his story, which is sure 
 to be made up of the biggest lies he can think of, I'll clap in, 
 and conduct the cross-examination. That's the only good 
 that'll come of this here present investigation. But where is 
 he, and is the gang back ? the dealers, the tinkers, the fellows 
 that sleep all day and rob and poach all night ; and the for- 
 tune-tfellers — be they back with him?" 
 
 " There is no one with him but young Ike, and he is at the 
 Barleymow," said the keeper. 
 
 " The Barleymow ! I think you said the Barleymow !" ex- 
 claimed the indignant constable. " Why, this is one of the 
 most howdacious doings I ever heard of. Here he is, instead 
 of hiding in a hedge, or a hovel, put up like a gentleman born 
 at the best cross-roads inn in the country, slap under the noses 
 of the authorities !" 
 
 " That's enough !" said Moleskin, taking up his gun ; " come 
 along." 
 
 The committee of inquiry proceeded on their mission. When 
 they reached the Barleymow they found Gypsy Jack very much 
 at his ease. He was sitting on the horse-trough, in the genial 
 spring sunshine, entertaining his nephew and the ostler with 
 what must have been a facetious story, as there was loud 
 laughter among them. At the approach of John Bullfinch 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 61 
 
 and his party, the keen black eyes of the boy lighted up with 
 intelligence, perhaps with glee. Gypsy Jack was more wary. 
 Without looking straight at the new-comers, he made a sign for 
 the lad and the ostler to leave. He then rose, and met the 
 farmer of Hawkwell with apparent frankness and cordiality. 
 He flashed a side look upon the keeper, and then met his gaze 
 in a way that plainly said, " Now, you know me, and I kno\7 
 you. What are you going to do about it ?" The constable 
 was regarded with a stare which might imply surprise, or 
 might indicate contempt, but certainly not alarm. The gypsy's 
 experience in various matters had, indeed, led him to form a 
 rather derogative opinion of those Parkins commonly called 
 " the authorities," meaning himself, four or five more consta- 
 bles and tithiug-men, and as many beadles, in the vicinity. 
 There was, in those days, no rural police. Gypsy Jack sur- 
 veyed the constable very much as an old gray badger or a 
 wild-cat might look upon a noisy but not dangerous little dog 
 in a wood. At a word from Mr. Bullfinch, they passed into 
 the Barleymow, a large, old-fashioned, roadside house, full of 
 all the comforts of the days of stage-coaches and post-chaises, 
 and were shown into a private room. The gypsy, sitting oppo- 
 site to Mr. Bullfinch, looked almost constantly, and always 
 confidently, into his clear blue eyes. He took no notice of 
 Parkins, and very little of the solemn-looking keeper. Mr. 
 Bullfinch returned the gypsy's gaze with some unsteadiness, 
 not knowing exactly how to begin to " draw for the old dog 
 fox" before him. He said something about the " good of the 
 house," and bad weather, and ordered gin-and-water and pipes. 
 Bad weather ! It was a beautiful day in spring. The sun 
 shone through the latticed windows, the scent of the violets 
 rose from the bank under the hawthorn hedge, the goldfinch 
 sang among the blossoms of the plum tree to his nesting mate, 
 and lambs were skipping at play in the pasture on the nearest 
 hill. The gypsy's eyes twinkled, and the constable nodded 
 approval, as the waiting-maid placed the liquor and pipes 
 before them. Mr. Bullfinch lighted his pipe with almost 
 Dutch deliberation, and then began : 
 
 " You remember the night of Aylesbury fair. Jack ?" 
 
 " I've had no call to forget it, sir, as I know of," replied the 
 
 gypsy. 
 
62 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " SometlnDg happeDed that night," said Mr. Bullfiuch. 
 
 " Very likely," said Jack, with much comjoosure; "some- 
 thiDg commonly does happen when gentlemen drink much of 
 the strong brandy-aud-water they serve at the Wheatsheaf, and 
 ride home late." 
 
 "This here's prewarication," said Parkins, aside to the 
 keeper. 
 
 " Moleskin's man, Stevens, was set upon that night in 
 Wootton woods, beaten within an inch of his life, his skull 
 fractured, and he was left for dead." 
 
 "Well, what of it?" said Gypsy Jack, with a bold and 
 steady stare at the yeoman. 
 
 " Plere's a villain !" said the constable to Moleskin. 
 
 " The next day," Mr. Bullfinch continued, " it w^as found 
 that you had left the neighborhood ?" 
 
 " I dare say it w^as, if anybody thought it worth while to in- 
 quire," said the gypsy. " I don't send the bellman round to 
 tell folks when I am going to change camps, and I went off 
 without saying good-by to Parkins or the keeper. I had busi- 
 ness elsewhere." 
 
 " It was discovered that same morning that Tom Scarlet had 
 left the Grange, and he has not been seen or heard of since," 
 said John Bullfinch. 
 
 " Yes, he has," said Jack. 
 
 " By whom ?" 
 
 " By me." 
 
 " Then you're the chap I be after as accomplice and acces- 
 sory, both before and after the fact," cried Parkins. 
 
 " 'Complice in what ?" 
 
 " In the murder — the attempt ! Come, none o' your non- 
 sense. This may turn out a hanging matter." 
 
 "Hanging be d — d," said the gypsy, with contempt. "The 
 man isn't dead, nor likely to die ; and if he was as dead as 
 mutton, I could prove a halibi by five witnesses." 
 
 " What sort of witnesses ? Your gang that was camped at 
 the heath won't do," said the constable. 
 
 " I've three without any of them ; and here sits one," said 
 the gypsy, pointing to Mr. Bullfinch. 
 
 " It is mainly as he says," remarked Mr. Bullfiuch. " Par- 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO'OTTON. 63 
 
 kins, be quiet, and make no further interruption. Now, Jack, 
 where did you see Tom Scarlet?" 
 
 " In a good many places." 
 
 " More prewarication," murmured the outraged constable. 
 
 " I mean the last time," said the yeoman. 
 
 " Well, sir, I met him at a horse fair in Lancashire the last 
 time I saw him." 
 
 " When was this, Jack ?" 
 
 " I don't think I shall be able to remember when it was 
 until I find out what is to come of all this cross-questioning," 
 said the gypsy. 
 
 " Well, well ! what did he say concerning this attack upon 
 Stevens?" 
 
 " Nothing at all. I believe he did not know of it. He had 
 other things to talk about." 
 
 " Well, you knew of it," said the keeper " and what did you 
 say about it?" 
 
 "Nothing at all. It isn't such a wonderful thing for a 
 keeper's man to have his head broke, that people should pre- 
 fer it to their own business when in another part of the coun- 
 try. He isn't the first that has had a crack on the crown in 
 one of the Marquis's covers, and I don't believe he'll be the 
 last," said the gypsy. 
 
 " I dare say he will not," the keeper remarked, grimly. 
 
 "I think there's been enough said about Stevens," returned 
 the gypsy. " In my opinion the breaking of a head or two is 
 a very trifling matter." 
 
 " And in mine it's a lagging matter, when the head broke 
 is that of a constable in the execution of his duty or a keeper 
 in a preserve, watching in the night season," cried the irasci- 
 ble constable. " For why ? because the law in that special 
 case made and provided — as anybody may see by looking into 
 the act — which means the statute; — is broke too, and not all 
 the currant jelly and sherry wine that May Bullfinch could 
 furnish gratis in a twelvemonth could mend tliat again." 
 
 " Where do you think Tom Scarlet is now. Jack ?" said the 
 yeoman. 
 
 " Well, sir, if the wind has been fair, and the passage any- 
 thing like good, he ought to be very near the coast of America 
 by this time." 
 
64 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 "America!" exclaimed Mr. Bullfinch. "What should he 
 do iu America? What took him to America?" 
 
 " Particular business," replied the gypsy. 
 
 "Which," iuterposed the irate constable, "is the case with 
 all of 'em. The particular business of nine out of ten that 
 cuts away from this country to that is to defeat the authorities 
 and avoid the service of a little docyment running in the name 
 of our Suverin Lord the King," 
 
 " What is this particular business, Jack ?" said the farmer. 
 
 " I can't say — that is, I won't say. It is private, but no 
 harm," replied the gypsy. 
 
 " I don't know about that. Private and sudden business 
 never took me over sea," said John. 
 
 " No, nor never will, sir !" exclaimed the admiring consta- 
 ble. " Forty years and more have I knowed you, and you 
 never cut away for fear of a little docyment proceeding iu the 
 name of our Suverin Lord the King. Hows'ever, there'll be 
 no splitting on the part of this here — party. You may believe 
 as much of what he says as you like, but he won't gammon 
 me — I ain't to be gammoned." 
 
 With this the astute constable walked out of the room. Mr. 
 Bullfinch and the keeper, finding they could make nothing 
 of the gypsy, soon followed. 
 
 The constable surveyed the front of the house. Thence "he 
 went into the garden bowers, among the bees and spring 
 flowers. With some rem.arks upon the wisdom of the busy 
 bee, and an allusion to the properties of honey, he took a seat 
 which commanded a view of the back door, and soliloquized : 
 
 " The reward is sure to be liberal, and it will be all my own 
 — no going halves. The keeper and him (meaning Mr. Bull- 
 finch) can have no claim ; for, though they knew the gypsy 
 was here, they haven't suspected, up to this time, what he's 
 been up to. It took my experience and penetration to find 
 that out." 
 
 He rose, went to the front of the house again and took a 
 seat on the horseblock. Mr. Bullfinch and the keeper ap- 
 proached. Parkins, regarding them with an air of profound 
 mystery, said in a guarded tone : 
 
 " Gypsy Jack must be took up. I'm going to pull him here 
 and now, and may want your help." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 65 
 
 " Nonsense ! he had nothing to do with it," said John. 
 " Perhaps not with the Stevens case, but how about a higher 
 crime ? Murder will out ! That is, when there's a certain 
 sort of man to find it out." 
 
 " What murder do you mean ?" said John. 
 "Hush! speak lower! The murder of Tom Scarlet. I 
 have hit upon the key to the whole business, and it's as clear 
 as day. The gypsy's cock-and-bull stories about horse fairs, 
 business over the water, and what not, don't gammon me. I 
 ain't to be gammoned ! Tom Scarlet has been made away 
 with, most likely by hocussing and burking. His body, sold 
 to the resurrection men, has been biled by this time. Jack 
 was one of the principals, and he must be took up." 
 
 This prompt and positive recital of horrors made Mr. Bull- 
 finch open his blue eyes to the widest possible extent. 
 " What evidence is there?" he asked. 
 
 " Plenty, as I'll show when he's collared and handcuffed, 
 and has no chance to cut away and get shet of the watch and 
 other vallybles taken from the murdered man. I hope we 
 shall be able to find the body — that is, the skeleton ; for if 
 we don't, the counsel as defends this here villain will pretend 
 that there's no corpus delicti — cor2Jus delicti ! Mr. Bullfinch," 
 added the learned constable, " the legal meaning of which I 
 will explain some other time, if convenient." 
 
 "If there is plenty of evidence, let us hear a little of it," said 
 the keeper, in his dry, matter-of-fact manner. 
 
 " Well, what be the facts to one used to such investigations ? 
 In the first place, this gypsy bears a noted bad character — a 
 shocking bad character ! He's up to all sorts of games against 
 the law, and has no respect for the authorities. He meets Tom. 
 Scarlet in some out-of-the-way place. The young man has a 
 large amount of money about him — it was his habit to carry 
 a deal of gold." 
 
 " By George, Moleskin, that's true !" exclaimed John Bull- 
 finch. 
 
 " Not so loud — not so loud !" said the watchful constable. 
 " He pretends to be cutting a stick out of the hedge yonder, 
 but's he's really a-listeniug to us, and can hear half a mile or 
 thereabouts. Now, you can swear to Tom's carrying the gold 
 yourself, Mr. Bullfinch. You can prove that." 
 5 
 
66 TEE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 
 
 " I can swear to the habit, but not to the fact, in this in- 
 stance," said John. 
 
 " It's all one for that. The fact is to be inferred from the 
 habit, and so the counsel for the Crown will say, when this 
 here amazing and celebrated case comes to be tried. Besides, 
 Tom left but little money at the Grange, you say, and you 
 don't think his men have robbed the bureau, do you?" 
 
 " No," said John Bulllinch, " they are honest lads — 1 know 
 them well." 
 
 " He always used to keep a deal of money in gold and 
 notes," said the constable, " and the old house would have been 
 robbed over and over again only for his name as a dare-devil 
 and the knowledge of double-barrelled guns and pistols all 
 over the premises, to say nothing of bull-dogs and bloodhounds. 
 Housebreakers, Mr. Bullfinch, picks their customers, just as 
 you picks the easy places to ride at in a hard run." 
 
 " Go on with your evidence," said the sententious keeper. 
 " The caps have snapped every time you've pulled the trigger 
 so' far. Come to the point. Didn't I hear you say the gypsy 
 had Tom Scarlet's watch ?" 
 
 " I said, ' No doubt he had ;' and I say it again. Let him 
 be took up, and you'll see," replied the constable. 
 
 " No go !" said the keeper. " It's all just like the castles 
 children build with cards — take one away, and down come all 
 the rest. As for Tom Scarlet, I believe him to be alive and 
 well this minute, and, as the gypsy says, gone abroad on some 
 sort of a wild-goose chase that very few men would under- 
 take." 
 
 " I'll see Sir Jerry Snaffle about this," said John Bullfinch. 
 " He's a great hand to puzzle out a faint scent and hit off the 
 true hunting line." 
 
 The constable heard Moleskin's remarks and the yeoman's 
 resolution with much disgust. 
 
 " Assault with intent to kill committed," said he to himself. 
 " Murder as good as proved, and nobody took up ! while one 
 of the principals is swaggering about like a lord in the land, 
 and regularly gammoning everybody but me. This comes of 
 the interference of farmers, keepers and the like with the real 
 authorities." 
 
TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 67 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 "Then came faire May, the fayrest mayd on ground, 
 
 Deckt with all dainties of her season's pryde, 
 And throwing flowers out of her lap around; 
 
 Upon two brethren's shoulders she did ride, 
 The twinnes of Leda; which on either side 
 
 Supported her, like to their soveraine queene. 
 Lord ! how all creatures laughi when her they spide. 
 
 And leapt and daunc't as they had ravished beene, 
 And Cupid's selfe about her fluttered all in greene." 
 
 THE namesake of the nymph, who rode upon arms of Leda's 
 twins, was not in higli favor with society in and about 
 VTootton and Kidingcumstoke, when the latter scattered her 
 flowers and threw around her sweets. May Bullfinch had 
 displeased many of those who had constituted themselves the 
 inquisitors and censors of other people's conduct. If any one 
 wants to incur the resentment of his neighbors, let him deny 
 some proposition they have laid down as a truth. Let him 
 have the hardihood to withstand " public sentiment" and in- 
 sist upon holding his ow^n opinions. This May Bullfinch had 
 done by refusing to listen to those charges against Tom Scarlet, 
 which had been proclaimed and enlarged upon ovei* almost 
 every tea-table in the riding. In spite of his loose reputation, 
 which had been fired at her a thousand times, point-blank, by 
 all the gossips of her own sex ; in spite of his sudden depart- 
 ure, just at the time of the assault upon the under-keeper ; in 
 spite of his continued absence, of his silence, and of the fact 
 that Miriam Cotswold had also disappeared and still remained 
 away, May's faith had never wavered. With a spirit like 
 that of the old knightly challengers, she maintained his inno- 
 cence and defied all comers. She was argued with, but not 
 shaken in her belief and trust ; she was coaxed, but it was of 
 no avail ; she was scolded, and she laughed at invectives. At 
 last the old ladies gave her up as " past praying for," pro- 
 nounced her a very suitable match for Scarlet himself, and 
 fell to pitying the blindness and weakness of the stupid man, 
 her father. The farmer had held several interviews with Sir 
 
68 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 Jerry Snaffle, but the baronet, after much beating about the 
 bush, had confessed that he was unable to hit off the scent. 
 Youno: Jack was altoojether of his "sister's mind, and Parkins 
 was in doubt whether the boy was " gammoned" by his sister, 
 or was trying to gammon other people within the metes and 
 bounds of Ridingcumstoke. Another staunch friend of Tom 
 Scarlet was the busy and influential landlady, Mrs. Hickman, 
 of the Wheatsheaf The good lady, with her daughter, pretty 
 Mary, had driven over to Hawkwell in her gig, and held 
 counsel with May Bullfinch. She knew Tom Scarlet and 
 Gypsy Jack well, and assured May that Tom would come out 
 all right in the end. She also knew Parkins well, and told 
 May that he was a fool, a " tippling, conceited fool of a man, 
 who ought to be ducked in a horse-pond ; and she had a great 
 mind to have it done." May thought so, too, and parted from 
 Mrs. Hickman much comforted. 
 
 Old Winter now had fled in perfect rout before the front of 
 brisk and lusty Spring. The fields were green with grass and 
 growing crops, the trees thick with expanding leaves, the 
 hedges whitely powdered with the fragrant May, the cluster- 
 ing blossoms of the hardy hawthorn ; and here and there were 
 warm tints of buds of the crab, and the blush of the wild rose 
 bedecked the bending briar. The cowslip, the crocus and the 
 daisy spangled the smooth pastures. Under the trees of the 
 copse the delicate primrose bloomed ; over the thriving wheat 
 fields cloud and sunshine and the vernal breezes chased each 
 other. So looked the Vale of Aylesbury as John Bullfinch, 
 with his daughter and son, rode along it, on a bright May 
 morn, to Gosford races. It was an annual event, and one of 
 moment. John could never remember that there had been a 
 race meeting at Gosford at which he was not present. The 
 races, perhaps, might have been brought off' without him and 
 Sir Jerry Snaffle, but it may be doubted. The farmer rode 
 Black Hearty. On one hand May was upon Cowslip ; on the 
 other, Young Jack upon Young Cowslip. Nature was in a 
 merry mood. Up, up! the lark towered up, and sang as 
 though he would pour out his very life aloft in melody. They 
 heard the cuckoo on the hill, the golden-fluted blackbird in 
 the hedge, and deep in wood and grove swelled the many 
 varied carols and wild notes of the thrush. They lingered on 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 69 
 
 the way, John Bullfinch and his daugther May, content to enjoy 
 so fine a morning and so fair a scene. But this sort of thing 
 was far from suiting Young Jack. It was a race morn- 
 ing, the occasion was momentous, and he was fiery hot with 
 haste. 
 
 The little jockey boots, the white buckskin breeches, and 
 the jacket of violet silk under his loose coat indicated that 
 Young Jack would take a prominent part when the proceed- 
 ings on the heath began. He was, indeed, to ride a certain 
 thoroughbred pony called Maid of the Vale, in the Ladies' 
 Cup, two miles, for ponies not more than fourteen hands high. 
 Three times before he had ridden the little mare to victory, 
 but never in a race of so much interest and importance as the 
 one about to come ofi*. Her chief antagonist would be a 
 famous brown pony, with a bald face, a noted runner, brought 
 on from Whittlebury Forest. He was the joint property of a 
 gypsy and a dealer in bridles and whips, an immense fat man, 
 twice as big as his own horse. This pony. Creeping Joe, had 
 won many races, and had furnished occasion for frequent quar- 
 rels and one or two fights between the worthies who owned 
 him, the gypsy and the fat man. In the altercations the fat 
 man generally had the best of it, for he was exceedingly loud 
 and voluble ; but in the fights the strategy of the gypsy pre- 
 vailed. He lowered his head, and by butting his antagonist 
 in the pit of the stomach reduced him to mere helplessness. 
 This gypsy was a crony of Gypsy Jack's, through whose sug- 
 gestions Creeping Joe had been brought up to Gosford Heath 
 to run against Maid of the Vale for the Ladies' Cup. 
 
 " We shall be late. I know we shall be late, and Mr. Bird- 
 bolt will be waiting. Put Hearty to a canter, father, and let 
 May send Cowslip along a bit. I declare that many people 
 would go faster to a funeral than we are going to Gosford 
 Green on the race morning," said Young Jack. 
 
 " And I shouldn't blame 'em, if the funeral was that of some 
 boys," said his father. " You'll go fast enough before the day 
 is over, if you beat Creeping Joe, for he is a nailer. Between 
 the gypsies, the big fellow and Young Ike, they have got him 
 in rare condition, I am told." 
 
 " So much the more reason that I should be with the mare, 
 to see how she feels and have another consultation with Jim. 
 
70 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 But, father, do you really think that Creeping Joe can outrun 
 the Maid ?" 
 
 *' I've no doubt of it, and you must depend on her bottom. 
 Now, the way to ride this race is to go along for a mile at 
 a " 
 
 " Ah ! I know all about that. I talked it over with Mr. 
 Kansome, from Lord Jersey's, at the Barleymow, and we came 
 to the conclusion to make the running strong. Now let us 
 make a little running here," said Jack. 
 
 "We'll just jog along as we are doing. I see Sir Jerry 
 Snaffle's chariot in front, and I won't pass him and her lady- 
 ship, if we never get there," said John. 
 
 " Then all I can say is, that I wish Sir Jerry Snaffle would 
 go a little faster,"" said Jack, with some discontent. 
 
 " Sir Jerry, sir," said John Bullfinch, " has a right to make 
 the pace as fast or as slow as he pleases. Why, when I was 
 a boy I should no more have thought of passing Sir Jerry's 
 father on the road, than I should have thought of flying. 
 But times have sadly changed — butcher boys spatter the mud 
 over gentlemen's carriages, and gypsies go spurring by the 
 best in the land." 
 
 This last observation was drawn out by the fact that the 
 young gypsy, Ike, who was to ride Creeping Joe, had just 
 turned out of a green lane in front, on his uncle's galloway, 
 and dashed by Sir Jerry's carriage, as if he was nobody. 
 Half an hour brought John Bullfinch to the front of a small 
 but elegant domain on Gosford Green. It was the residence 
 of Mr. Birdbolt, a short, stout old bachelor, hot in disposition 
 and hearty in manner, with white hair and a face as red as a 
 beefsteak. He was a great connoisseur in flowers, singing- 
 birds and racing ponies ; owned Maid of the Yale and often 
 declared that he wouldn't swap her for any sixteen-hand horse 
 in the Kingdom. He now rushed through the front garden, 
 and assisting May to alight, kissed her on the cheek. " Beau- 
 tiful, beautiful !" said the old man, holding her at arm's length. 
 
 " Yes, the month for singing-birds and flowers — the spring 
 flowers !" said May. 
 
 " Ay, you charming rogue, for bullfinches and roses. But 
 come in to lunch, and then I'll show you the nesting gold- 
 finches and canaries," said Mr. Birdbolt. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K 71 
 
 " Never mind them to-day, sir," cried Young Jack ; " any- 
 day will do for them. This is the mare's day. What I want 
 to know is " 
 
 " Confound the boy ! What do you mean by interrupting 
 a gentleman at his own house ?" said his father. " If I was 
 Mr. Birdbolt, I think I'd make you strip those colors off, and 
 get another rider. Still," he continued, " I should like to look 
 at the mare myself before we lunch, for on a racing morning 
 the less we have to do with birds the better, unless it be car- 
 rier-pigeons, to instruct friends in London how to put the 
 money on." 
 
 " There are cold fowls and tongue already on the table," 
 said Mr. Birdbolt. 
 
 " They won't fly away while we look at the mare. Come 
 along !" cried Young Jack. 
 
 They found the stable door locked, and the key in charge of 
 a short, bony man of fifty, who had once been a jockey, and 
 was now trainer to Mr. Birdbolt's ponies, in which weighty 
 affairs his chief counsellor and adviser had usually been Tom 
 Scarlet. The man was somewhat hoarse and at first so grave 
 and taciturn that you would have thought something ill had 
 certainly befallen the mare. 
 
 " All right, eh, Jim ?" said Mr, Bullfinch. 
 
 " Yes, yes ! she's tol'able well," replied the trainer. 
 
 " Good at her feed, and pulls up well after her gallops ?" 
 said John. 
 
 " Yes — yes ! she's eat what I gave her, and she's took her 
 work, but " 
 
 " But ! what d'ye^ mean by but ? You don't mean to say 
 that she's amiss in any way ?" cried Mr. Bullfinch. 
 
 " Why, no. Not exactly amiss, but she's had a good deal 
 easier races ; and if Tom Scarlet was here, just to look her 
 over and advise young master how to ride it, I should be 
 easier in my mind. However, you look her over yourself." 
 
 With this, he threw open the door of the box, and there 
 stood Maid of the Vale, with her muzzle on, ready for her 
 war paint. She was a pony, but with all the length and elegant 
 proportions of a thoroughbred horse of high quality. A rich 
 bay, long and low, with a glowing coat, full, meaning eye and 
 broad forehead — a mare well worthy of some of her ancestors, 
 
72 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 who, stouter than the sailors and men-at-arms of Spain, 
 breasted the billows of the stormy Channel, and swam ashore 
 from the wrecks of the Armada. She answered May's ca- 
 resses, and looking round at the visitors, as if to collect their 
 sentiments, seemed to know that her time had come again — 
 that Young Jack was there to take her to another struggle. 
 
 " She's fit ! She's up to the mark. We shall win it, Jim — 
 I know we shall win it," said Young Jack. 
 
 " And I know we shan't, if you underrate your adversary," 
 returned his father. " Of all the perilous and fatal errors 
 made in regard to racers, boxers, and the like, there is none 
 worse than underestimating those who are to oppose you. I've 
 seen it proved a hundred times. Look at Old Dutch Sam, the 
 winner of a hundred fights, and licked at last by a journey- 
 man baker ! Look at Jem Belcher, never beaten until he un- 
 derrated his own pupil, the Game Chicken !" 
 
 " Ay," said the trainer, " but I have always heard that Bel- 
 cher would have won the fight, only he had lost an eye a short 
 time before, playing at rackets, and Pierce got in on the blind 
 side of him. It's always been the belief in the racing stables 
 that Jem would have won if he had had two eyes." 
 
 " I know it," said Mr. Bullfinch, with a sigh, " but I have 
 heard competent judges say — I didn't see the fight myself — 
 that he couldn't have beaten Pierce on that day if he had had 
 four eyes. But he was a great man — a very great man was 
 Jem Belcher ! The best in my time, or any other time, for 
 that matter. There's no such men nowadays." 
 
 " Well, never mind him now," said Youug Jack ; " it's a race 
 and not a prize-fight that's going to come ofi'." 
 
 " In regard to the race," said Mr. Bullfinch, " much depends 
 upon the riding of it. You have had but a limited experi- 
 ence. Now, I could have got a boy from John Day's " 
 
 " I don't like them Days," said the trainer gruffly and posi- 
 tively. " They call old John * Honest John,' and, to my mind, 
 it is because he's the d — dest rascal in all England." 
 
 " Well, well, let it pass ! No boy from John Day's is here, 
 and Jack is to ride — my son is to ride. Now the mare, though 
 perhaps not as fast, is better bred than Creepiug Joe, and the 
 way to win is to come away and make running." 
 
 "From the start! right from the start," said Mr. Birdbolt. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 73 
 
 " And so diminish Creeping Joe's speed before it comes to 
 the finish," said May. 
 
 " Now, this is all wrong," said Jack, expostulating. « You 
 all talk as if you had made a grand discovery, when Tom 
 Scarlet and I and Jim have always known that the little mare's 
 strong point is her ability to stick over a long course. I don't 
 want instructions as to that matter. I've ridden her before 
 without instructions of that sort — eh, Jim ?" 
 
 "Ay, and against instructions, and won, too," said the 
 trainer, " for at Cotesford Mr. Bullfinch said, ' Wait and win,' 
 and the guvner said, ' Nail 'em on the post ' but Tom Scarlet 
 and you and I said, ' If we wait for them big horses they'll 
 outstride her at last, with all their weight ; so we'll just go 
 along and keep 'em moving all the w ay.' " 
 
 " That was it — precisely it !" said Young Jack, as his father 
 and Mr. Birdbolt began to retreat. " I cut out the running." 
 
 " And kept the pace good," cried May. 
 
 " And won in a walk," hallooed the trainer, whereat John 
 Bullfinch and Mr. Birdbolt quickened their pace towards the 
 house. 
 
 This matter at Cotesford had long been rather a sore sub- 
 ject to treat upon before John Bullfinch and Mr. Birdbolt, 
 and for that reason it was to the trainer, like a long suit at 
 whist — ^he never neglected an opportunity " to bring it in." 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 She was not foaled on the Northern wold, 
 
 But dropped in the lap of the midland vale; 
 And the gypsy there, with the coal-black hair. 
 And the eye well read in the fates, they said. 
 Told them next morn of the time, and tale. 
 
 TT could hardly be averred that John Bullfinch took as 
 -*- much interest in the plates and stakes run for at the rural 
 meetings near the Vale of Aylesbury as he did in the grand 
 event which came off" at Newmarket, Epsom and Doncaster, 
 but it is very likely that they afibrded him as much enjoy- 
 
74 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 ment. In a certain sense he \vas of the upper circle, the inner 
 ring of a great section of the turf. He had for years been 
 intimate \vith Mr. Ransome, a sort of JNIaster of the Horse at 
 Middleton, the favorite seat of the great racing magnate of 
 that age, Lord Jersey. All Sir Jerry Snaffle's racing doings 
 and secrets were confided to John Bullfinch. With the Days 
 he had long been friendly. With Will and young Sam Chiff- 
 ney he was hand and glove. Isaac Sadler had great respect 
 for him, the more so, that John always had a balance at his 
 banker's, and Mr. Sadler sometimes had none. It was not 
 likely that one who had discussed with Kansome the merits 
 of Cobweb, Middleton, Mameluke, Glenartney and Glencoe, 
 with the Chifiheys the memorable triumphs of Zinganee and 
 Priam, and with Sadler the glorious doings of Defence and 
 Dangerous, should prefer hunters' plates and pony stakes to 
 the national events. John's hat had been thrown up too 
 often after the great turf victories of Lord Jersey, Sir Jerry, 
 the Chiflneys and Isaac Sadler for that. It was a truth, how- 
 ever, that after a race of heats at the country meetings, in 
 which the struggle had been long and close, John's satisfaction 
 was intense. The trainer, the jockey, and the owner of the 
 winner always received his congratulations in the order named. 
 In the great steeple-chases, for which the beautiful Vale of 
 Aylesbury was then famous — real cross-country contests, quite 
 unlike those over the artihcial courses of the present day — 
 John was in his glory. A bold and skilful rider and a fine 
 judge of that rare animal, the weight-carrying hunter, Mr. 
 Bullfinch felt himself on solid ground when steeple-chasing 
 was in order. Concerning the Derby, the St. Leger, the Ascot 
 Cup, and so forth, he was never very confident, but inclined 
 to listen to the suggestions of his friends Ransome, Edwards, 
 the Chiffueys, the Days, Robinson, Isaac Sadler, &c. None 
 of these great men attended the little meetings of Gosford 
 Green, save Ransome and Sadler. The latter commonly had 
 horses to run, and at such places they were generally coarse- 
 looking creatures, sometimes string-halted or knuckled behind, 
 almost always running in bandages, and quite always set down 
 by Ransome in his own mind as " dangerous." He might 
 know nothing at all about them, but his theory was, " Isaac 
 Sadler knows precisely what sort of a horse to bring here." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 75 
 
 As our party cantered along from Mr. Birdbolt's to the 
 heath, the scene was highly animating. Scores of farmers on 
 horseback, and their wives and daughters in gigs and carriages, 
 were on the road. Now and then a barouche, bearing from 
 the country mansions fair dames and damsels, bright with rich 
 colors, and with ribbons gay, went rolling by. On either hand 
 there was a continuous crowd of country folks a-foot. Sturdy 
 men in smock frocks and leather gaiters ; young fellows in 
 velveteen coats, upon whom the recruiting sergeant cast a 
 longing eye. Lads and lasses, ruddy and dusty ; troops of 
 children with May garlands in their nut-brown hands, and no 
 fear whatever of the beadle before their eyes. It was always 
 a general holiday. On the heath, scattered over the open 
 sward among the gorse, and as near to the course as might be, 
 were booths, from which the clamor of voices, the scraping of 
 fiddles, and the sound of tabor and pipe, were already audi- 
 ble. The thimble-rig, and other games of skill and chance, 
 were going on, in nooks and corners, among the bushes. About 
 the vehicles, drawn up on each side of the roped run-in, there 
 was Punch and Judy ; and the hoarse bawling of ballad-singers 
 was almost loud enough to drown the voices of the gypsy girls, 
 crying, " The correct card of the races, with all the running 
 horses, and the weights, names, and colors of the riders !" 
 
 John Bullfinch and Mr. Birdbolt were recognised on every 
 hand. The latter was now as hot and earnest as Young Jack 
 himself May was the cynosure of many eyes, as she sat on 
 Cowslip with admirable ease and grace, bowing right and left to 
 the compliments showered upon her. Soon she became aware 
 of the near presence of Gypsy Jack, who, with a companion, 
 was intently regarding her from a short distance. The gypsy's 
 companion was a man of thirty, much scarred from small- 
 pox, sinewy and long-armed, dressed as a sailor. It seemed as 
 though they had something to tell May or her father, for after 
 exchanging some words together, the sailor nodded to the 
 gypsy, and the latter made three or four steps towards her. 
 But just then Sir Jerry Snaffle rode up on a gray gelding, and 
 paid such a compliment to May that she blushed and looked 
 down. When she raised her head again, the gypsy and the 
 sailor were gone. Sir Jerry, a tall, florid man, with reddish- 
 brown whiskers, bushy as the brush of a fox, was one of the 
 
76 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 stewards — iu fact, the leading man of the meeting. After a few 
 words with John Bullfinch, he mentioned Lady Snaffle's wish 
 that her goddaughter, May, should join her in the carriage. 
 Dismounting and throwing his reins to a groom, the baronet 
 assisted her to alight and conducted her to his wife's chariot. 
 Lady Snaffle was a little stout, fresh and fair, with a merry 
 eye, a rich, joyous voice, and a kind heart. She was the only 
 daughter of a fine old Admiral, who had fought at the Nile 
 and Trafalgar and scores of other places. He had come inland 
 at last, bringing with him the rustle of reefing breezes and the 
 rich flavor of the combing seas of the main ocean. Lady Snaffle 
 had no children. During the lifetime of John Bullfinch's wife, 
 a quiet, ladylike, superior woman, she had often called at 
 Hawkwell, and thus it was that she was godmother to May. 
 After the death of Mrs. Bullfinch, when John took his chil- 
 dren to the Hall and presented the little girl, in her deep 
 mourning, to Lady Snaffle, the lady clasped her to her heart 
 and vowed that she would be a second mother to her. This 
 was a source of great relief to Sir Jerry, who hated sadness 
 and sorrow, and whose well-meant endeavors to console the 
 widower had, somehow or another, failed. His exhortations 
 to John to " cheer up" had been wholly unavailing. Seeing 
 the little girl in his wife's arms, the good-hearted baronet took 
 charge of the little boy and carried him and John off to the 
 stables. Ever since that time May had spent a day now and 
 then with Lady Snaffle, and Young Jack had come to have 
 the run of the gardens and paddocks. The families had more 
 in common than people in the towns would at first compre- 
 hend, for the Bullfinches were as old in the county as the 
 Snaffles, and had marched to battle in the wars of the Roses, 
 side by side with the chiefs of that ancient house. Besides, 
 whenever the Admiral was at the Hall he frequently called at 
 Hawkwell and chatted with John and his daughter. After 
 his visits he would say to his daughter, " Good man, John 
 Bullfinch, Laura ! Like the cut of his jib. Politics right — 
 true blue ! Knows the ropes about horse-racing and farming. 
 Very handsome girl, May Bullfinch — beautiful ! and so well- 
 behaved ! Reminds me of the landlady's daughter at Port 
 Royal when I was a midshipman in the Sea Horse frigate. 
 Does, by Jove ! She used to wait upon us middies and mix 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 77 
 
 our grog. You should have heard her sing ' All in the downs.' 
 Smart boy, that Young Jack — ought to go to sea. Topman, 
 by George, by the time he's twenty ; might be captain of the 
 foretop at five-and-tweuty. Or we might get him appointed 
 midshipman, only our party is not in, and there's an over- 
 supply of them." 
 
 " He is heir to Hawkwell, papa, the estate of the Bullfinches 
 — very old family." 
 
 " What signifies a few acres of muddy land, Laura, when 
 the lad can own, as you may say, millions of acres of dark- 
 blue water?" 
 
 Even Tom Scarlet was looked upon by Lady Snafile with a 
 certain sort of favor, through the Admiral. On one occasion 
 the old sailor was at the Hall when the anniversary of the 
 battle of Trafalgar came round. Soon after break of day, 
 " two bells in the morning watch," the Admiral rose and found 
 the whole front of the mansion bedecked with laurel boughs ; 
 he roused out his daughter and Sir Jerry, and then the crowd 
 upon the lawn gave three cheers and began the stanza which 
 is, for simplicity and pathos, almost sublime : 
 
 "By Britons long expected great news from the fleet, 
 Commanded by Lord Nelson the French for to meet — 
 At length the news came over, through all England it soon spread, 
 That the French were defeated, but Nelson was dead." 
 
 Tom Scarlet had been the prime mover in all this, and Lady 
 Snafile appreciated the pains he had taken to celebrate the 
 fame of her veteran father. 
 
 May had not long been seated by the lady's side when she 
 noticed the sailor looking hard at them. 
 
 "A blue-jacket. May, but not a man-of-war's-man, my dear; 
 he seems determined to know us again. What can the man 
 be staring at us for?" 
 
 " Perhaps he is not a sailor," said May. 
 
 "O, yes, he is. I can tell at a glance the real tar from the 
 impostors who put on sailors' clothes to beg in. This man is 
 a sailor, but not one of our men — a man-of-war's-man." 
 
 Just then the bell rang to clear the course for the first race. 
 There was galloping up and down, smacking of hunting-whips, 
 and pressing back of the foot-people behind the cords. Louder 
 was the hubbub. Shriller the gypsy girls cried the " correct 
 
78 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 cards," as they pushed back their tangled locks and curtsied 
 to the " gentlemen and sportsmen," who paid in shillings and 
 half crowns, and got smiles and chaff for change. 
 
 Now the course and the horses riveted all attention. The 
 ballad-singers bawled no more. Punch shrieked in vain. 
 Pipe and tabor and catgut were silent. Tramp, tramp ! swish, 
 swish ! six or seven horses go flashing by. Isaac Sadler's 
 chestnut wins the plate for all ages, and Young Jack goes off 
 to the quarters of Maid of the Vale, under a <jlump of elm 
 trees a few rods from the course. 
 
 On his way the lad was accosted by Parkins. 
 
 *' Master Bullfiuch, what game, what gammon do you think 
 the gypsies be up to now ?" 
 
 " I don't know — I'm in a hurry. Is it something about 
 Creeping Joe ?" 
 
 " You've just hit it ; he's to win easy, and Young Ike is to 
 be made a great jockey. The fat man says he'll be one of the 
 top-saw^yers at Newmarket !" 
 
 " Do you believe that nonsense. Parkins ?" 
 
 " Do I believe it ? Master Jack, I hates the gypsies, espe- 
 cially the family of Gypsy Jack. They be bad 'uns, all bad 
 'uns." 
 
 " Well, no," said Jack. " Miriam Cotswold is a good girl 
 and a merry one." 
 
 " What ! A good girl ! Lord, how you be gammoned ! 
 Listen to me " 
 
 " Another time," said Jack ; " no time now. The saddling- 
 bell has rung." 
 
 Creeping Joe \vas first on the course, led by the gypsy 
 owner, and followed by the fat man, Jack Cotswold, his nephew 
 Ike, and some scores of the dark and sinister-looking men of 
 the tribes. Then came Maid of the Vale ; and she soon be- 
 came the centre of a circle of rustic admirers. The old trainer 
 held her by the head, Ransome buckled the girths, and Young 
 Jack was as busy about her as a bee in clover. A tall groom 
 in livery came up and said : 
 
 " I want Master Bullfinch ! Where's Master Bullfiuch ?" 
 
 " Now, where do you think Master Bullfinch is likely to be 
 at this minute, and the mare ready for her mount ?" said 
 Young Jack. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 79 
 
 " Lady Snaffle wishes to see you for a moment, sir. The 
 carriage is close at hand." 
 
 "I know. You tell her ladyship I can't come now, but 
 after the race " 
 
 " What ! you send such a message as that to Lady Snaffle ?" 
 cried his father. " Off with that jacket ! There's a boy here 
 from Will Chiffney's just the weight. No boy that fails in 
 proper respect for Lady Snaffle shall ride this mare." 
 
 " Go to her ladyship," said Mr. Ransome, " and keep cool ; 
 there's plenty of time. The fact is that her ladyship ought 
 to know better when there's a race in hand ; but ladies nevej 
 do know better. Go on. Jack." 
 
 *'I'm going," said he, with tears in his eyes; «'but if this 
 race is lost it won't be my fault." 
 
 Hurrying along, whip in hand, natty and spruce in breeches, 
 boots, and purple silk. Jack passed by the carriages, and heard 
 with some satisfaction such remarks as " There's Young Bull- 
 finch. He rides Maid of the Vale. I hope he'll win." In 
 one carriage there was a matron with three daughters, all fair 
 and rosy, and beautifully dressed — ^Irs. Southdo\vn, her two 
 eldest daughters, and Margery, a young miss just in her teens. 
 Mrs. Southdown and the young ladies bowed and smiled. 
 Margery jumped up and cried, " Jack ! I say. Jack !" 
 
 *' Ma ! Ma ! the idea ! Shocking !" said the young ladies. 
 
 *'Well, my dears, it may be improper in a sort of way. 
 But children will be children ; and your father has done his 
 best to spoil Margery and Young Jack ever since thej were 
 babies." 
 
 The Baronet's lady received Jack very graciously, alid all 
 his discontent vanished. Lady Snaffle gave him the tips of 
 her fingers, saying, " How d'ye do. Master Bullfinch ? Pleased 
 to see you in the Maid's colors again. How is the dainty little 
 mare ?" 
 
 " She's well, my lady ; very well and fit," said Jack. 
 
 " They say the bald-faced pony is a wonder. Master Bull- 
 finch. What do you think of the race ?" 
 
 " He's fast, ray lady, but the mare's the real sticker. She's 
 better bred. You know her pedigree ?" 
 
 " Well, yes, but really at this moment I do not recall it." 
 
 " Got by Master Henry out of Miss Stays, by Whalebone ; 
 
80 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 Master Henry by Orville. Lord Jersey and Mr. Elwes bred 
 him. The mare will win. Has your ladyship got anything 
 of value on ?" said Jack, with solemnity. 
 
 " Got anything of value on ! May, my dear, am I expen- 
 sively dressed to-day ?" said the lady, laughing. 
 
 " I don't mean that, my lady. I mean any money on the 
 mare. Because if not, put a little on." 
 
 " But I don't know who to put it on with. Everybody in 
 this part of the course is for the Maid." 
 
 " So much the better for them, my lady. Bet with Sir 
 Jerry ; he'll stand it. Somebody has gammoned him into the 
 belief that Creeping Joe can't lose it." 
 
 " A good idea, I declare ! Here comes Sir Jerry, and I'll 
 adopt it. May, it will be a rich joke, and I shall win twenty 
 guineas." 
 
 The Baronet rode up, and gave his opinion of the race. 
 Creeping Joe was probably the fastest horse of his inches in 
 the Kingdom since Little Driver's time. The mare was a good 
 one, but might not be quite up to the mark. He would have 
 been more confident if Tom Scarlet had been there to train 
 her. And then the Baronet added, "A very clever young 
 man. Miss May." 
 
 May blushed and looked a little confused, while Lady Snaf- 
 fle said, " I believe the mare will win. Master Bullfinch is 
 very confident." 
 
 " Boys always are," replied Sir Jerry. " He'd be confident 
 if he had no more chance than a man a-foot." 
 
 " Sir Jerry, I will back our county, and lay you twenty to 
 forty," said her ladyship. 
 
 "Not taken. Say twenty even, and it's a bet." 
 
 " I'll do it," said Lady Snafile. 
 
 The start was at the head of the straight run-in, half a mile 
 from the judges' stand. From the latter the course turned in 
 a half circle for a mile among the gorse, and then there was 
 the straight run-in again. As the ponies came along towards 
 the carriages and went sweeping by, it was seen that Maid of 
 the Vale, going with a long, measured stroke and her head low, 
 was leading two lengths. Creeping Joe, higher and more 
 rapid in action, was second, and two others who had started 
 were already outpaced. Away they went, between the bushes 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 81 
 
 and clumps of green gorse, nothing of them to be seen but 
 the caps of the riders. A mile had been run, and still the lit- 
 tle mare forced the pace. A mile and a half, and still she 
 was leading two lengths as they entered the straight. Now 
 the excitement began to rise. 
 
 " She'll win ! I know she will ! May, my dear, the mare is 
 winning !" cried Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " I do think so !" said May, in a flutter of hope. 
 
 " The boy rides well, and she sticks hard ; but the great 
 pinch is yet to come," said Sir Jerry, galloping away. 
 
 They were three parts of the straight run home, when the 
 gypsy called upon his pony for a great rush, and there was a 
 loud shout as the bald face of Creeping Joe was seen a little 
 in front of the mare. The ladies trembled with excitement, 
 and some shook with fear. But that shout was nothing to the 
 swell of the prolonged roar which shook the bushes when Maid 
 of the Vale came again, and won the race by a length. Then 
 laughing, smiles, bright flashes, shaking of hands, and a rush 
 around the weighing booth, as Young Jack and Ike, with their 
 saddles on their arms, came out. The mare was the great local 
 favorite. 
 
 " Sir Jerry, the race is mine by rights. He rode foul. He 
 did indeed ! My uncle can prove it," cried Ike. 
 
 " Sir Jerry, it's a lie !" said Young Jack. " Ask my father 
 — ask Mr. Ransome — ask Isaac Saddler — ask Lady Snaffle ! 
 O, Sir Jerry, do ask Lady Snaffle !" 
 
 " Ike, there's half a guinea for you. The race was well 
 ridden and fairly won. It was not your fault that you lost it." 
 
 The Baronet then took Young Jack by the arm and said, 
 " My boy, you're a credit to your father, and he's as good a 
 man as ever put foot in stirrup. You ride extraordinarily weJl." 
 
 " So I ought. Sir Jerry ; it was Tom Scarlet taught me," 
 said Young Jack, full of pride and joy. " Ride foul, indeed ! 
 I'd scorn it. Sir Jerry, especially against him, Ike." 
 
 " Ah, I understand — clever fellow, Tom Scarlet. Come 
 along, come along ! You must receive the congratulations of 
 your sister and Lady Snaffle, and I'll bring your father and 
 Mr. Birdbolt there." 
 
 As they went through the crowd to the carriage. Young 
 Jack's silken sleeve brushed the bluejacket of the- wiry sailor. 
 6 
 
82 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 
 
 He stood talking with Gypsy Jack. They were looking at 
 May Bullfinch again, all unconscious of the astute Parkins, 
 who watched them and muttered, " I ain't to be gammoned. 
 You chaps can't gammon me !" He took good care, however, 
 to keep behind the sailor, who showed such a rough and reso- 
 lute countenance, as he smoked his cheroot, that Parkins said, 
 " A bad 'uu ! A very bad 'un !" 
 
 After the sports of the day were over there was more noise, 
 more merriment, and more bustle. The brown, bare-legged 
 gypsy boys and girls ran shouting here and there. Tall racers 
 in their clothes, led by little grooms, trod stately by. Eed- 
 faced farmers, with their buxom wives and daughters, pressed 
 forward in the throng, and hallooed, " By your leave ! by your 
 leave, there !" In the booths faster went the fiddles, more 
 merrily sounded the tabor and pipe. Punch chuckled more 
 richly as he cudgelled the beadle and hung Jack Ketch. 
 There w^as the thundering of the drum, "and the vile squeal- 
 ing of the wry-necked fife." And loud bawled the ballad- 
 singers. Lady Snafile threw sixpences among the gypsy boys 
 and girls, clapped her hands, and laughed. Young Jack and 
 Mr. Birdbolt had gone away with the trainer and the victori- 
 ous little mare. Sir Jerry Snaffle's horse. Black Hearty, and 
 Cowslip w^ere held in readiness by grooms near the chariot ; 
 but the Baronet and the yeoman just then were elbowing their 
 way into the thick of a vast crowd, where a fight was going 
 on, in which Gypsy Jack and the sailor acted as seconds to 
 one of the brawny principals. 
 
 It was the twilight of the long summer day before John 
 Bullfinch, with May and his son, sat at the board of Mr. 
 Birdbolt. They had a pleasant and a jocund time. The 
 piping bullfinch sat on May's finger and whistled " Coming 
 thro' the Rye," with such art and emphasis that he was 
 encored. The trainer was had in with his lads to join in 
 drinking to r»Iaid of the Vale. Young Jack, for the tenth 
 time, went over all the incidents of the race, and declared 
 that he knew he had it safe when Ike challenged a furlong 
 from the post, instead of waiting till close at home. John 
 Bullfinch was in high glee. Sir Jerry had passed warm en- 
 comiums upon Young Jack to his father, and the latter now 
 exclaimed, " No more boarding school, Jack ! No more, May I 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 83 
 
 Sir Jerry says he don't need it ; he is in the right way of edu- 
 cation — the school for men." 
 
 Then John declaimed at length upon the glories and uses of 
 the turf; the principles of breeding; the art and the science 
 of training ; and the mysteries of jockeyship. Many anec- 
 dotes he related, and much information he communicated, con- 
 cerning the Darley Arab, the Godolphin Arab, Bloody But- 
 tocks, the Byerly Tuck, the two True Blues, Flying Childers, 
 King Herod, Eclipse, Pot-8-os, Waxy, Whalebone, and Web ; 
 and finally wound up with an eulogium upon Tom Searlet and 
 Cowslip. 
 
 Mr. Bullfinch had just concluded when it was announced 
 that Gypsy Jack was at the door and wanted to see him on 
 business. 
 
 " If his business is to claim the Cup, it won't do, you know," 
 said Young Jack. " I rode fair, and the mare won. Sir Jerry 
 and the other stewards have settled it, and the matter can't be 
 re-opened." 
 
 " Hold your tongue !" said his father. " Mr. Birdbolt, shall 
 we have Jack in and treat him ?" 
 
 " By all means," replied Mr. Birdbolt. 
 
 The gypsy looked as if he had been in a hot encounter, and 
 had washed at a horse-trough. His black hair was matted, 
 there was blood upon his shirt, and a cut over his eyebrow. 
 He came forward with his usual self-assurance, looked at each 
 of the company in turn, gave a sort of patronizing nod to 
 Young Jack, and in compliance with the invitation of Mr. 
 Birdbolt tossed off a steaming bumper of gin-and-water with 
 much relish. 
 
 " That's the right stuff!" said he. " Gentlemen, I made so 
 bold as to call, being bound up the country instead of down 
 the vale, and having business which may prove of interest to 
 all concerned." 
 
 With this lie set down the glass and looked steadily at May. 
 
 " Well, what is the business ? Is it about the race, Jack ?" 
 said Mr. Bullfinch. 
 
 " No, sir, it ain't. The race is over ; I've paid my bets, and 
 that's enough. The mare," he continued, with a glance at 
 another tumbler of gin-and-water which Mr. Birdbolt was 
 mixing, " is a d — d sight better than I took her for, and your 
 
84 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 son rode like a captain, lie did ; like a professor of the jockey 
 art, which is a'most as noble as that followed in the twenty- 
 four-foot ring. The owners of Creeping Joe have quarrelled 
 and fought. Luke licked the big fellow by butting — which I 
 don't count quite fair, though within the rules — and has took 
 the pony all to himself. But that ain't the thing. My business 
 here is to deliver a letter — I may say two — from foreign parts." 
 
 " A letter from foreign parts ! Why it must be from Tom 
 Scarlet," said Mr. Bullfinch. 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder," said the gypsy, with a grin, " seeing 
 they was brought over from America — there's one for Miss 
 May, too — by a sailor cove, a friend of mine that was in the 
 clipper brig Tom Scarlet took passage to Baltimore in." 
 
 " Is the sailor outside ? If he is, let him come forward and 
 splice the mainbrace," said Mr. Birdbolt. 
 
 " Well, he's outside, but not here ; that is, outside of the 
 lock-up," said the gypsy. " You see, there was a little mill, 
 and after that a jolly row all round. Parkins, being cheeky 
 and officious, had his head punched by this sailor, and went 
 off to get a warrant out. So the sailor, not wanting to be 
 jugged, has cut and run into another county." 
 
 " I saw the man," said Mr. Bullfinch. " Were not you and 
 he seconding one of the men in the ring?" 
 
 "O, ay! he belongs to the profession, as you may say," 
 returned the gypsy. " You used to know him well some years 
 ago, when he was a clever lad and a lightweight — fought by 
 the name of Harry Cox." 
 
 " The Oxford Sailor Boy \ And he went over in the same 
 ship with Tom Scarlet, eh ?" said Mr. Bullfinch. 
 
 "That a did," returned the gypsy, "and introduced him 
 there to one of the right sort ; a man from tlie West, some- 
 where or another, away up the country among the mountains 
 and prairies. A good horseman ! a knowing cove ! a racing 
 cove 1 and one as can fight above a bit ! He got Cox out of 
 trouble with the beaks in New Orleans once, when they 
 brought off a little battle for a thousand dollars a side, and 
 the other man happened to die. Tom's all right." 
 
 " Take another glass. Jack, while I read this letter," said 
 Mr. Bullfinch. 
 
 The gypsy readily complied. After a long look at May he 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 85 
 
 addressed some observations to Mr. Birdbolt and Young Jack, 
 touching America, the vast quantities of unappropriated land 
 there, the absence of game laws, and the cheapness of rum : 
 "Tuppence a glass and help yourself! My eyes! what a 
 country !" 
 
 The letter to Mr. Bullfinch vras brief, and being very legible, 
 which is more than could be said of many letters in those days, 
 was soon read. It seemed to be satisfactory, for John laid it 
 on the table before him, and surveyed the company. " It is," 
 said he, " a letter from America, written by Tom Scarlet, sure 
 enough, and is just as much to the point, and goes as straight 
 to the purpose, as if it had been written at his own desk at the 
 Grange. The voyage seems to have made no more difference 
 to him than a journey to Aylesbury, Banbury or Oxford 
 would to me." 
 
 " Very likely not as much, if it was winter time, and a white 
 horse happened " 
 
 " Hold your tongue !" said Mr. Bullfinch, peremptorily, to 
 the gypsy, pointing to a third glass of gin-and-water. He 
 then resumed : " Tom is quite well. He is gone to the West. 
 I don't precisely know what the West means." 
 
 " It is like our going to the west of England," said Young 
 Jack. 
 
 " I dare say it is. Tom means to make an extensive tour 
 in company with a man of those parts with whom he has be- 
 come friends — a very good man, a capital horseman !" 
 
 " Meaning for America, of course," said Young Jack. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir ! A good horseman to Tom Scarlet 
 is good anywhere. During his absence he requests me to look 
 after some, matters at the Grange." 
 
 " Sensible notion, that there," said the gypsy. 
 
 " And," continued Mr. Bullfinch, raising his voice, " to tell 
 Sir Jerry he»need not be afraid to match The Bagman across 
 country, for Tom himself will be home to ride him." 
 
 " That's very good !" said Young Jack. " I wish he had 
 seen the race to-day. Father, I should like to ride over to 
 the Hall with you when you go to tell Sir Jerry. I caused 
 him to lose twenty guineas to-day, and if I can help to put 
 him on a good thing, by letting him know the real, 2wivate 
 opinion of Tom Scarlet as to The Bagman, it " 
 
86 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 
 
 Mr. Bullfinch had been so struck aback by this statement 
 from his son, that up to the point of the private opinion about 
 The Bagman he had been unable to interpose. He now cried, 
 ''What d'ye say? Did I hear aright? Were you the cause of 
 Sir Jerry's losing money ? AVent halves Avith the chap who 
 won it, I suppose. You are a nice one for my son !" 
 
 " Went halves — no ! I am only to have a new saddle and 
 bridle. Her ladyship told me that since the race. She laid 
 the bet with Sir Jerry through my advice." 
 
 " O !" said John, opening his eyes very wide, while a smile 
 ran over his face, like the ripple of the sunshine across a 
 meadow in the spring, when light chases shadow, and is in 
 turn chased itself " If her ladyship won the money, it alters 
 the case. I like to see the ladies bet, especially when they 
 put it on the right horse." 
 
 May came forward from the window with a bright, liquid 
 eye and a flushed cheek. She said : 
 
 " Tom— Mr. Scarlet, I mean " 
 
 " Always called Tom," put in the gypsy. 
 « Mr. Scarlet writes very kindly. He wishes to be remem- 
 bered by all his friends. Sends his love to Jack ; and men- 
 tioning having written to you, father, says, tell him that as 
 yet I have heard nothing certain of the White Horse !" 
 John Bullfinch winced and cleared his throat. 
 " Heard nothing of the White Horse !" said IMr. Birdbolt. 
 " Heard nothing of the AVhite Horse ! He must be gone 
 over about the White Horse," exclaimed Young Jack. 
 
 The gypsy fixed the yeoman with his piercing eye, and said, 
 with great emphasis and deliberation : 
 
 " ' Tell him that as yet I have heard nothing certain of the 
 White Horse!' Now, this is curious! If this here White 
 Horse was only a goblin horse, a sort of Will-o'-the-Wisp, 
 leading people astray, I could have him charmed and laid by 
 some of our folks. But Tom couldn't have been led off* by that 
 sort of thing, and we shall hear more of the White Horse." ^ 
 
 " I hope I shall hear that he's ringboned and spavined," said 
 John Bullfinch, with some acerbity. 
 
 " Then I don't," said the gypsy, " for though Tom has heard 
 nothing certain of him yet, he icill hear of him, and if the 
 AVhite Horse is sound, I'll bet a trifle he never comes back 
 without him." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 87 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 " She was so loved, the fairy ! 
 
 Like a mistress or a child, 
 For she was so trim and airy, 
 
 So buoyant and so wild. 
 Although so young a rover, 
 
 She knew what life might be, 
 For she had wandered over 
 
 Full many a distant sea." 
 
 A CLIPPER brig lay, iu the moonlight, a little out in the 
 stream at Baltimore, and two men stood upon the wharf 
 abreast of her. The brig was low in the ^Yater, broad in the 
 beam, and very heavily sparred. It seemed tliat she had lately 
 met with heavy w^eather, for part of her bulwarks had been 
 washed away and her decks had a bare look, which indicated that 
 they had been swept by green seas within a few days. Yet the 
 spars and standing rigging were all right, and there was no 
 want of trimness in the coiling of the falls of the running 
 rigging upon the belaying pins and elects. The fact was that 
 the swift clipper, after wrestling with the ocean in its fierce 
 and angry moods for three weeks, had at last reached her port, 
 with all on board well and no damage done save to the paint 
 and upper works, and two or three sails blown out of the bolt 
 ropes. She was a favorite with her officers and her gallant 
 crew, though a very wet vessel, and one that from the height 
 of her masts, the reach of her yards, and the great length of 
 her main boom kept the watch on the alert, and in heavy 
 weather required all hands and the cook to reduce her canvas. 
 She had never made a more marked impression upon the 
 nautical mind by reason of her swift, staunch, and w'eatherly 
 qualities than upon the passage just concluded. 
 
 " A good brig she is ; and by the powers, the skipper and 
 mate know how to drive her. The passage was fast and good. 
 We are here ahead of Jagger ever so much. The brig lay her 
 course, you know, all the way " 
 
 " To tell you the truth, Cox, I know very little about it. 
 
88 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 Whether it's a week or a fortnight or a month since I came 
 on board, I hardly know." 
 
 " Ay, ay ! 'twas a rough passage from first to last, for we 
 got it in the channel, and the last gale off this coast was a 
 heavy one. Danger must be a pretty good sea-horse by this 
 time, for he was under water much of the way. I fed him 
 myself all the passage, and he ate well, which is more than you 
 did. He's a very knowing horse. When he smelt the land 
 he almost talked, and the way he struck out for the shore when 
 we shoved him overboard was beautiful. The fact is, that the 
 Roanoke in a breeze of wind is a lively craft. She ducks down 
 a little often, and points her flying jibboom up at the stars once 
 in awhile. But what then ? She is safe and swift. She lay 
 her course all the way, which is a d — d sight more than the 
 liners and regular traders could have done. Whichever 
 dagger may be in, he isn't this side of the Grand Banks yet." 
 "Now I've had time to reflect," said Tom Scarlet, "I must 
 say that it was imprudent in me to come off at red heat. You 
 see, while I lay below, and the brig was tossing between sea 
 and sky, buffeted about, as it seemed to me, by all the winds 
 and waves in the world, I had nothing to do but consider." 
 
 " I know. That's all over now. Another twenty-four hours 
 on land and you'll consider again. I have pondered over this 
 matter in the watches — at the wheel, mind you, and on the 
 look-out, and I've got it made up by day's reckoning. Now, 
 there's one thing sure, dagger won't go to New York, be- 
 cause there are men there who know him, and he would sooner 
 see the d — 1 himself than meet them face to face. They had 
 transactions together in England, and when these men were 
 obliged to cut and run he cheated them. Boston's very un- 
 likely. Canada he is sure to avoid. He may go to Mobile, 
 or to New Orleans. Meantime, you are in as good a place as 
 any to hear of him. Kelly here, up at the house, has ac- 
 quaintances all along this coast. But, better than that, he 
 tells me the Western man I told you of is in Baltimore. Of 
 all the millions in America he's the man to show you the ropes 
 and help you to overhaul dagger." 
 
 " But why should he take trouble and interest himself in 
 me, a complete stranger ?" 
 
 " Because he's that kind of man. He will carry you off to 
 
TEE WHITE EOBSE OF WOOTTON. 89 
 
 his plantation, and once he gets upon Jagger's track he'll hunt 
 him to the Rocky Mountains or to Texas, but ^vhat he'll have 
 him and recover your horse. Come, we'll go up and see if he 
 is there yet. Kelly expects him by this time." 
 
 They walked a block or two into the city and entered a long 
 room, from which flashed forth ruddy light, with the sound of 
 music, and vigorous feet tripping in the dance. Some dozen 
 men were lounging and smoking, most of them sailors. Some 
 were dancing to airs from two fiddles, a fife, and a harj). At 
 the farther end of the room there was a bar, behind which 
 stood the proprietor of the place, a stout fellow of five-and- 
 thirty, with his shirt-sleeves rolled up. To his right, in a lit- 
 tle recess, there were two men over a stove, with pipes in their 
 mouths. One of these was an old sailor, w^eather-beaten, 
 gnarled and knotted. His hair was grizzled, and his face was 
 as red and hard as salt junk which has been a time or two 
 around the world. The other man was rather tall, very brown, 
 very sinewy, and very quick in his movoments. His hair was 
 black, his eye a dark hazel, bold and bright. He had neither 
 beard nor whiskers. His dress was neat, not expensive, but 
 decent, like that of a countryman, and any one could see by 
 his cap of rich fur and his spurs that he was not a Baltimore 
 man. 
 
 " And so you say, old man, that you know of millions of 
 money wdiich may be come at for a trifle of outlay ?" 
 
 " Ay, he does ! that is, says so," said Kelly ; " but does it 
 stand to reason that they'd be there long and him without 
 enough to pay for his grog and tobacco ?" 
 
 " Young man, I do know of it, and w hat's more, nobody 
 else does ; so it's all my own. If you was a sailor man, we'd 
 go halves. There's nothing but an outfit wanted ; and if 
 Kelly here don't plank down something towards it, none of 
 the money '11 be spent in this place ; that I'm settled upon — 
 not a doubloon, not a joe, shall he have. Now, what is wanted 
 is a fore-and-aft schooner and six men, a puncheon of rum, a 
 hogshead of bread, and some beef and pork." 
 
 ". I say, you can furnish them last," said the landlord. 
 
 " Well, I have beef cattle^ (but they are on the hoof) and a 
 drove of live hogs. Old man, whereabouts is this treasure?" 
 
 " Well, ijomig man, did you ever hear of the Grand Cayman ?" 
 
90 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " Did I hear of it ? Why, I have been there, and, more 
 fool I, after such a treasure as you tell about. We found the 
 inside of a Spanish calaboose instead of the money. But I 
 hear Cox's voice, Kelly, and I suppose that's the Englishman 
 with him. He looks like a lost man." 
 
 " That's him. They came ashore last night from a clipper 
 brig, one as has had a hard but fast passage — a diver, you 
 know — one of them as only comes up now and then to blow. 
 The Englishman has brought a horse with him — such a horse ! 
 They swam him ashore. He'd suit you to death, only you 
 couldn't ride him." 
 
 " I can ride anything that has a mane," said the Western 
 man, positively. 
 
 " No, I'll swear you can't !' replied the ancient mariner ; 
 " for to say nothing of the lions, the sea-serpent we made out 
 off the Mauritius had a mane three fathoms long. It's true 
 as I'm alive — as true as the treasure down there by the 
 Grand Cayman. 'Twas in the morning watch — larboard watch 
 — I was at the wheel, and I says to the mate " 
 
 "Hullo ! what's the row now ?" cried Kelly. 
 
 The music had ceased — oaths, the breaking of glass, and 
 the interchange of blows were heard, and a man or two fell to 
 the floor. Those who had interrupted the dance then went 
 hastily into the street, and the musicians, after a time, prepared 
 to play again. But suddenly the door was flung open, and a 
 party of men, armed with slung-shots and clubs, rushed into 
 the room. Their leader was a huge fellow, with a powerful 
 club. He struck down Tom Scarlet, and another was bend- 
 ing over him with a slung-shot about to strike a blow which 
 might have brained him, when the Western man and Kelly 
 sprang forward together. A kick upon the jaw of the man 
 with the sluug-shot drove him in among the fiddlers, and then 
 the frontier man faced the intruders. Cox and several sailors 
 had been stricken down at the first onset, as well as Tom Scar- 
 let. The whole party were about to close with, the Western 
 man. But he did not wait for them. Ketracting his left hand 
 into the sleeve of his coat, so as to fend oft' with that arm, he 
 drew a knife from some part of his person, and with a fierce 
 cry, sprang at the gigantic leader. Twice the clubs came 
 down upon his head. Twice his knife flashed, and the glitter 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 91 
 
 of the blade made some of his assailants draw off. But at 
 last tile large man struck, two-handed, with force enough to 
 fell an ox, and down went the countryman. His opponent 
 uttered a shout of triumph, and hove up his club to finish the 
 work, but then came his own swift destruction. The frontier 
 man rose quickly upon his left knee and right foot, and with 
 an upward, backhanded stroke at the giant, " yerked him un- 
 der the fifth rib." With a yell of fear and pain the man 
 dropped his club and rushed out of the place, followed by his 
 companions. Kelly sprang to the door and threw two stout 
 oaken bars across it. He had no sooner done so than there 
 were shouts outside of "Help! murder! watch !" and knocking 
 at the door. 
 
 " I say. Sassafras, you've killed that fellow," said the land- 
 lord. 
 
 " He would have killed me, if he could. Look at this club, 
 with lead run into the head of it. If the man who made that 
 ain't a murderer at heart the Mississippi don't run towards 
 the Gulf Wlioishe?" 
 
 " A fireman and a politician — that is, his friends have got 
 political influence. You must clear out at once, and take the 
 Englishman with you. It won't suit you to lay in jail." 
 
 " No ; but I doubt whether the Englishman could 'cut his 
 way through the gang at the door if I could mine." 
 
 " I'll manage it all. Come here. Billy, get up." 
 
 A young boy arose from a berth near the bar, and the land- 
 lord said : 
 
 " Go to your uncle's ; tell him to have the Englishman's 
 horse saddled and bridled and in the alley in no time. Then 
 go to Carrol's and take Sassafras's horse there. Wait till they 
 come to you." 
 
 He then put the boy out through a little window at the 
 back. 
 
 " Now, Cox," said the landlord, " you three must go out over 
 the roof, cross the alley, and down off the tobacco warehouse. 
 You have been out that way before." 
 
 " I have ; but there was a plank and fifteen fathom of rope." 
 
 " They are there now. You'll find Mike in the attic to 
 bring them back again. Sassafras, you'll be pursued — no time 
 to lose. Never mind money. This'll soon blow over, and you 
 
92 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 can settle when you come East again. Take that Englishman 
 home with you, and keep him out of harm's way until he has 
 got the hang of the country." 
 
 In less than half an hour Sassafras and Tom Scarlet 
 mounted their horses behind the stable of Kelly's brother in 
 the presence of Cox, a man from Carrol's, and the boy Billy. 
 
 " You'd better come with us. Cox. I can get another horse 
 at Pierce's, outside the city. Fine, free air t'other side of the 
 mountains, and I'll show you sport." 
 
 *' The breezes from the blue water are healthier for me," re- 
 plied the sailor. " I could lay in this town all snug for six 
 months. But there's no call for it. In the stream, waiting for 
 the turn of the tide to trip her anchor, there's a vessel bound 
 to New Orleans. I know the mate and I mean to sail in her. 
 Direct letters to me at the old place and I'll take 'em to Eng- 
 land." 
 
 " You won't go with us, then ?" 
 
 " No ; it's not to be thought of." 
 
 " I sav, Sassafras, I'll go. I want to go to the West," said 
 Billy. 
 
 " Good boy ! So you shall when I come East again. Good- 
 night, boys." 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Dofjherry. — Tou shall comprehend all vagrom men ; you are to bid any man 
 stand in the Prince's name. 
 
 Wdtchmnu. — How if a' will not stand? 
 
 Bof/hen-y. — "Why, then, take no note of him, but let him go ; and presently 
 call the rest of the watch together, and thank God you are rid of a knave. 
 
 SILENTLY and slowly through the city, keeping to narrow 
 and unfrequented streets. Sassafras and Tom Scarlet rode 
 together. Presently the former explained in brief terms that 
 when they reached the road they could make speed, and with 
 such horses as they rode could easily keep ahead of all pur- 
 suers. Arrived at the straggling suburbs, Sassafras leaped 
 his horse over a low fence and led the way across an open 
 space of ground to a good road leading towards the West, 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 93 
 
 through au undulating country. Another leap took them 
 into the road, when Sassafras assured his companion they 
 might now consider themselves safe. They would ride briskly 
 for about five miles, when he would call upon a friend of his 
 for a few minutes, after which they would push on farther. 
 He should consider himself bound to be a friend to Tom ; he 
 would carry him first to his plantation, to get the whistle of 
 the winds and the roar of the waves out of his ears, and then 
 aid him to pursue Jagger and recover his White Horse. Time 
 enough for talk afterwards, he added ; they would canter along 
 now and get a piece away from those who might follow. 
 
 " Do you think the man is dead?" said Tom Scarlet. 
 
 "He may be, but he had thick clothes on, and the life lies 
 low in some of these heavy, burly fellows. Besides, I felt the 
 knife cut through a rib or two, and I doubt whether it went 
 far home. But you would have been dead enough by this 
 time if I had not struck in. I have heard something of your 
 history from Cox. Reckon me your friend. I will take 
 chances but what I'll see you righted ; the more so, because at 
 this, our first acquaintance, we were in a little difficulty 
 together. Nothing like being on the same side in a little 
 fight to make friends of men upon short acquaintance." 
 
 Tom Scarlet expressed his gratitude in suitable teruis, and 
 declared that he resigned himself to the guidance of Sassafras. 
 The young men shook hands, and put their horses to an easy 
 hand-gallop. 
 
 Sassafras was a Virginian ; but his home was now so far 
 towards the West, that it may be doubted whether his new- 
 found friend would have consented to accompany him, if he 
 had known that the plantation to which they were bound was 
 some twelve hundred miles away, and west of the great river 
 which, running a course as far from north to south, is called 
 the Father of the Waters. Sassafras was the youngest of a 
 family of three children, the eldest of whom was a girl. He 
 lost his mother young, but not before the excellent woman 
 had planted and cherished in his mind the sound principles 
 of morality and simple piety by which she herself had always 
 been governed. His father, after the death of his wife, grew 
 discontented, and moving across the mountains with their 
 stock and negroes, they settled in Kentucky. The daughter 
 
94 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 
 
 married a well-to-do farmer \Yheii she was eighteen. Kot long 
 afterwards the father and the eldest brother were cut off im- 
 timely in a desperate encounter with fellows called " Regu- 
 lators," who, under pretence of supplementing the laws, car- 
 ried on all sorts of depredations and violence. Young Sassa- 
 fras killed the leader of the gang before the blood of his 
 father and brother was well off the ground, and desperately 
 wounded two others. They had relatives and friends, and 
 after carrying on a bitter, bloody and vindictive feud with 
 extraordinary daring and constancy, the young man — he was 
 hardly more than a youth — sold off most of his effects to his 
 brother-in-law, and started for Missouri with the. negroes, who 
 might be considered the survivors of his family. He also took 
 a lot of blood horses. He settled on the Missouri river, near 
 St. Joseph's, the old city founded by the French explorers and 
 traders. There he now owned a large plantation. He did not, 
 however, spend much of his'time upon it, but made excursions 
 to the Indian country, and sometimes visited New Orleans. 
 Meantime his laud and stock were honestly, if not thriftily, 
 looked after by his negroes, at the head of whom was a sage, 
 white-headed grandsire, who had " always been old," as Sas- 
 safras said, which meant as long as he could remember. Most 
 of the produce raised on the estate, save the tobacco, which 
 flourished much in the rich bottoms, was consumed upon it. 
 In fact, if any one had made it a matter of reproach to Sassa- 
 fras that he owned slaves, he would have replied, " If it comes 
 to that, they own me." 
 
 He was passionately fond of horses and horse-racing. He 
 was a bold, skilful and enduring rider, a sure shot with the 
 rifle, and a mighty hunter. He was not a quarrelsome man, 
 but he was a quick, tenacious and severe fighter when engaged. 
 He revered the memory of his mother, and sometimes curbed 
 his tongue in altercations and broils with the reflection, " ^ly 
 mother would not have approved of this." He was intensely 
 devoted to " Old Virginia," and it is to be remarked that the 
 most thoroughgoing and unselfish admirers of some states, 
 commonwealths and countries, ai-ie to be found among those 
 who have left them. Sassafras would sometimes laugh at a 
 reflection upon himself; but let anybody say anything against 
 the name, the fame, the honor or the wisdom of the " Old 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 95 
 
 Dominion," and his blood was up. The calumniator was re- 
 quired to retract or fight upon the spot. 
 
 About once a year Sassafras visited Baltimore, passing down 
 the Mississippi and up the Ohio by steamboat to Wheeling in 
 Virginia, and then riding across the mountains on horseback. 
 His business was to settle his accounts with an old Scotch 
 merchant to whom he sent his tobacco and his furs, and who 
 shipped to him sundry supplies. Two days before he had met 
 Tom Scarlet, Sassafras had presented himself, without notice, 
 as usual, at the merchant's warehouse, and had been ushered 
 into the inner office, where the old man sat at one desk and 
 his trusty bookkeeper, a canny Scot, at another. After a warm 
 greeting, there was some such colloquy as follows : 
 
 " Ye've sent no tobacco the year, Sassafras. How's that, 
 man?" 
 
 " I was off in the Indian country, Mr. Leith. The tobacco 
 is all right, and a good crop it is. It will be sent on after the 
 spring freshets have run out of our rivers." 
 
 " 'Tis good, is it, Sassafras ? And how many hogsheads ?" 
 said the old gentleman, taking a pinch of black rappee, im- 
 ported from " Edinboro' Toon." 
 
 " I don't precisely know how many, sir." 
 
 " Hear till this, Duncan ! hear till this ! Here is a planter 
 who don't know how many hogsheads of tobacco he's got to 
 ship !" 
 
 " I didn't count 'em. I know more about the furs, because 
 I brought them from up the Missouri river myself." 
 
 " And what will they be. Sassafras ?" 
 
 *' Why, there's mink and otter and beaver and fox, and 
 there's two silver fox, but they are not for you." 
 
 " Not for us ! How's that, man ?" 
 
 " I'm going to make a present of them to a lady — a young 
 lady, sir." 
 
 " Present to a leddy — a young leddy ! Nonsense, man ! The 
 value is very large — much too large." 
 
 " Very likely, but for all that I shall give 'em to your 
 daughter." 
 
 "Duncan, heard a man ever the like o'this! Sassafras, 
 there must be an invoice 0' the furs." 
 
 " Very well, you can make it yourself." 
 
96 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " And we maun settle our old account. Ye'll have had the 
 statement, Sassafras ?" 
 
 "O, yes, sir, I have the statement you sent." 
 
 "And ye've fund it correct?" 
 
 " I have. I have added up all the figures, and the totals 
 are right. The statement is a beautiful statement, only I can't 
 quite make out whether we are even, or whether I owe you 
 about a thousand dollars or you owe me a thousand." 
 
 " Good Lord ! Duncan ! hear till this ! Draw the man a 
 check for $1161.18, and let's get him oot o' this toon as soon 
 as may be." 
 
 " Never mind the odd cents, Duncan." 
 
 " But he must mind the odd cents. How the devil do ye 
 think the books can be balanced and the check no' show the 
 cents? Sassafras, ye'll dine wi' me the day. Duncan, ye'll 
 come and cut your mutton wi' us. And noo, as it's past the 
 hoor of noon, a wee drap of the auld stuffie from over yonder 
 will be no that ill to take. Bring out the Ferintosh, Duncan. 
 See ye draw the curtain close, too. Ye see, Sassafras, there's 
 a wheen young lads in the ooter office, and I'll set no bad ex- 
 ample to youth. Doou wi't, man ! Ye get na such dram as 
 that in the Indian country. Here's till ye !" 
 
 When the old merchant took his seat at the desk the follow- 
 ing morning, he said : 
 
 " Duncan, we mun gi' credit to Sassafras at the full market 
 price when his furs come to han'." 
 
 " Ay, sir ; and he mun get full weight in the entry of his 
 tobacco." 
 
 " Wha said anything about weight, ye fause loon ?" 
 
 " Weel, sir, I did. Yon chiel, Sassafras, accepts everything 
 we put doon without question, and he's no skeel in figures be- 
 yond adding up. 'Twould be a shame not to gi' him full 
 weight. Besides, we'll mak' it up oot of them ower-cute Yan- 
 kees fra' the North that come here haggling and objecting and 
 speering, and wushiiig a reduction of this, and demanding an 
 explanation o' that — we'll mak' it up oot o' tha cunning bodies 
 wha think a' body as unprincipled as theirsels." 
 
 " So we will, Duncan — so we will ! My certie, Duncan, but 
 ye're well grunded in the true mercantile principle, to which, 
 by the by, we'll take a wee drappie." 
 
 The education of Sassafras had been elementary only. But 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 97 
 
 it had been improved aud enlarged since his early school days. 
 He had derived much general information from several classes 
 of men. The chief of these were Catholic priests at an insti- 
 tution near St. Joseph's, aud certain Jesuit missionaries among 
 the Indians. Sassafras was not himself a Catholic. His 
 mother had been a member of the Episcopal Church of the 
 Old Dominion, and that was good enough for him. But he 
 respected the priests he knew, especially the missionaries. 
 Besides, when stricken with fever at I^ew Orleans, after 
 the expedition to the Grand Caiman, he had been nursed and 
 cured by the Sisters of the Charity Hospital. You might as 
 well abuse the Old Dominion as declaim against priests and 
 nuns to Sassafras after that. He gave money to help build 
 churches. He furnished the fathers with horses. Every year 
 at Christmas he overwhelmed the larder of the Lady Superior 
 (a French Countess) of the Sisters' House at St. Joseph's with 
 hogs, hindquarters of beef, turkeys, poultry and bucks, such 
 as delighted the heart of Father Abbot at Bolton Abbey in 
 the olden time. Sassafras was fond of books at leisure times. 
 He read but few, but these were good, and his taste had mainly 
 been guided by a good old Jesuit from the Canada side of the 
 line, who was as much English as French, and had been a 
 soldier in his youth. The last time the old man parted from 
 him was at an Indian encampment among the spurs of the 
 Rocky Mountains, and then the missionary said : 
 
 " Sassafras, my son, farewell ! We shall probably not meet 
 again. To say to you be brave, honest, and truthful I deem 
 unnecessary. But, Sassafras, be temperate, merciful and just. 
 Shed no blood, save upon absolute necessity. May God have 
 you in his keeping." 
 
 Sassafras and his English friend drew bridle in front of a 
 large frame house, with straggling out-buildings, which stood 
 back from the road. The moon was sinking in the West, but 
 there was light enough for the practised eye of Sassafras to see 
 that a herd of cattle lay in the yards adjacent to the out-build- 
 ings. He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled low but 
 shrill. A man came out, attended by a stout negro bearing a 
 lantern. The man was thin and tall. His face was expressive, 
 now grave, then lively and gay, and there was humor in his 
 gray eve and the lines about the corners of his flexible mouth. 
 *7 
 
98 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " Halloo, Sassafras !" said he, " what now? You are back 
 very soon." 
 
 <' Ay ! and a friend with me, but we shall not stop here now." 
 
 " Not stop ! why you won't go on to Smith's ! Your friend 
 is an Englishman, I see, and on a good horse. He's brought 
 money with him. They all do it. Don't let him go to 
 Smith's." 
 
 " Pierce !" said Sassafras, sharply, " there's been a little dif- 
 ficulty, and a fellow got cut with a knife in the ribs." 
 
 " I say, Sassafras, so you've been at it again !" said Pierce, 
 solemnly, and then he added with a grin, " and a knife, too ! 
 You ought not to have used a knife." 
 
 " Well, a pistol would have done as well and I had one 
 about me, but the knife was handy to my grip. Besides, the 
 difficulty was hot just then, and a knife never misses fire. 
 Now, the man who was cut has got political influence, and 
 they will send men after us. I don't want to fight any more 
 to-night, and I don't want to be followed. Still, if we are fol- 
 lowed we are not going to kill our horses by running away. 
 You understand." 
 
 " I understand, Sassafras. You won't be followed beyond 
 this house — that is, if them that follow have got a bit of sense." 
 
 "Good ! who's here with those cattle?" 
 
 " Men from the West, who own them." 
 
 " From over the mountains ?" 
 
 " No ; this side of the mountains." 
 
 " Well, good-night. Pierce. Give my love to my cousin 
 Elizabeth, and tell her the next time I come East I'll take 
 her to the Old Dominion." 
 
 " Sassafras, stop that," said Pierce, with a gesture of alarm ; 
 *' them words ' Old Dominion' wakes up your sweet cousin in 
 the most astonishing manner, and her health is so precious 
 that I object to having her disturbed." 
 
 Sassafras and Tom Scarlet rode away. Pierce returned into 
 the bar-room of his tavern with the negro ; and while the latter 
 stood by the stove, the former made ready to refresh himself 
 with a glass of liquor. Before he got it to his lips there was 
 a patter as of little feet in slippers on the stairs at the back, 
 and a female voice, not as low and soft as Pierce or Kichard 
 Grant White might have wished, exclaimed : 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 99 
 
 " Pierce I" 
 
 He shook his head and looked at the negro, who thereupon 
 skook his head. 
 
 " Pierce ! Mlder Pierce !" 
 
 No answer, until the frill of a night-cap over certain black 
 eyes and black hair in curl-papers appeared round the bal- 
 usters. Mr. Pierce then exclaimed : 
 
 " I must have been dozing, my dear. What do you wish?'' 
 
 " Who were you talking with outside, Pierce ?" 
 
 " Travellers, Elizabeth ; strangers going West." 
 
 " O, you bold deceiver ! It was my cousin — Sassafras. 
 And there's been a fight. Sassafras has whipped four or five 
 more. Acknowledge the corn. Pierce ! You know he has !" 
 
 " Well, my dear, if Sassafras was here, and if there was a 
 fight, Sassafras got the best of it." 
 
 " Of course ! He's a Virginian, from the Old Dominion. 
 So am I, Pierce !" 
 
 " My dear, I've heard that some thousands of times." 
 
 The footsteps retreated, and the good man was about to put 
 the tumbler to his lips, when Elizabeth said : 
 
 "Pierce, if men come here from Baltimore, send them 
 packing home again. Tell them that there's a party of Vir- 
 ginians on the road ahead ; and ,say, too, that your own wife, 
 a Sassafras by the mother's side, can hit a squirrel in a tree- 
 top with a two-grooved rifle — from the Old Dominion, Pierce!" 
 
 Mr. Pierce shook his head at the darkey, and listened like 
 a cat at a cupboard door, until he heard a sound above which 
 indicated that Mrs. Pierce had laid down again. He then 
 drained his glass, and, looking at the darkey, said : 
 
 "When a man, a Marylander, marries into one of the " 
 
 " Fust families !" said the darkey. 
 
 " Fust fighting families of Virginia, he nat'rally wishes his 
 member of the family to enjoy her sleep o' nights. Jacob, 
 there'll be men here from Baltimore. They will have driven 
 fast, and you'll have to look to their horses." 
 
 " Yes, sah ! and if dey trow a shoe, or break a trace, or 
 start a tire — such will happen sometimes on de road, sah !" 
 
 " Jacob, I see you understand, but I hope none of these ac- 
 cidents will happen on the road hack to Baltimore. What 
 will you take, Jacob ? Here's whiskey, very pure, made in 
 
100 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 the raouutaius, Jacob; and here's rum, old, straight from 
 Jamaica." 
 
 " De whiskey, Massa Pierce, is bery fine. For de ole Ja- 
 maicky I hab great respect, sah I But habbiug been ras'd in 
 Virginia, away down on de Eastern shoah, de peach and honey 
 — real essence and true flavor ob de ole Doniin " 
 
 " Stop ! Here you are — help yourself!" 
 
 The miserable man — he was in bondage sore — took tlie 
 peach brandy in one hand and the honey in the other, and 
 compounded a tumbler full. His eye dilated, his nostrils ex- 
 panded, his mouth seemed to widen from ear to ear. And all 
 over his broad ebony countenance there spread a glow like 
 that of an African morning on the west coast. 
 
 " Jacob," said Mr. Pierce, " your missus is a singular good 
 woman." 
 
 " Dar no better *oman in de 'ole " 
 
 "Stop!" 
 
 "'Ole United States, sali ! Everybody say dat. De town 
 trash negroes in Baltimore acknowledge dat." 
 
 " Jacob, you may live — far distant be the day — to see your 
 missus in her coffin. You've heerd of people being buried 
 alive?" 
 
 " I hab heerd, but not experienced, sah." 
 
 "Well, Jacob, if you live to see your missus in her coffin, 
 jest wdiisper ' Ole Dominion ' close to her ear. If nothing 
 happens then it will be safe to proceed with the funeral." 
 
 No long time had elapsed before Pierce and the negro heard 
 the sound of approaching wheels, upon wdiich they fell asleep 
 instanter, and it was several minutes before they suffered them- 
 selves to wake up and admit the new-comers. There were six 
 men in the party, and the leader was a bluff, portly personage, 
 with the air of one in authority. He was addressed by the 
 others as Sheriff, but his office was only that of chief deputy. 
 
 " Any strangers in the house. Pierce ?" said he. 
 
 " Yes, there are — five or six. They own the cattle in the 
 yard and are going to the city at daybreak." 
 
 " Is there any stranger here, come from the city, a Western 
 man, with a sailor and an Englishman in his company ?" 
 
 " No such person in the house." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 101 
 
 " No man by the name of Sassafras, eh ? Do you know such 
 a person ?" 
 
 " I do. He stopped here some days ago as he went in. 
 What of him?" 
 
 " He has killed a man, that's all." 
 
 " Then if he is on the road he's gone on to Smith's beyond 
 any question. All such parties do. None but quiet, peacea- 
 ble citizens stop at my place, but at Smith's " 
 
 At this Pierce gave such an unutterable look and made such 
 a gesture as to signify that Smith's chosen customers were none 
 too good for Sassafras or any other man. 
 
 " We must follow him. How far do you call it to Smith's?" 
 
 " I call it a good deal too far for you to travel before day- 
 light," replied Pierce. " If Sassafras and the sailor and the 
 Englishman are there, they will have the backing of as des- 
 perate a gang as is to be met with on this side of the moun- 
 tains. If I were you I should stay here until daylight cer- 
 tain. You are not strong enough to take these men at 
 Smith's." 
 
 " The law would be on our side," said a timorous-looking 
 man who was of the sheriif 's party. 
 
 "You couldn't have a worse thing on your side at Smith's 
 when the knives and pistols and rifles come into play." 
 
 " You think Sassafras will resist ?" 
 
 " I know he will. He's been resisting somebody or some- 
 thing ever since he was fourteen years old, at which age he 
 fought at the polls for Jackson. Besides, I doubt whether he 
 won't be justified in resisting. Your warrant will not run 
 at Smith's; his house is in another county — a Democratic 
 county." 
 
 " And Sassafras is a Democrat, is he ?" said a sprightly little 
 man. 
 
 " I have it from his cousin, a noted shot with a two-grooved 
 rifle, who is not far away, that he fought at the polls for Jack- 
 son when fourteen years old, and he's been at it pretty much 
 ever since." 
 
 " Then I honor him," said the little man. " I'm a Democrat 
 myself, and I now give notice that I have been mistaken. The 
 sheriff" inveigled me into joining this party by pretending that 
 it was to go after a murdering ruffian, and I now find that he's 
 
102 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 a respectable gentleman, a worthy fellow-citizen of the West. 
 This is a political manoeuvre — another Whig plot against the 
 rights of the people. Talk about resisting — I'll be d — d if I 
 don't resist it myself" 
 
 " The real truth is that you had better stay here till morn- 
 ing and then go back to Baltimore," said Pierce. " How can 
 it be expected that you gentlemen in buggies, responsible men 
 of homes and reputation, can come up with such a set of dare- 
 devils as Sassafras and Smith's gang, and them on horseback ? 
 Besides, if you could come up with them, you would be am- 
 bushed to a certainty. That cousin can hit a squirrel in a 
 tree-top with a two-grooved rifle — that I know, for I've seen it 
 done. The best thing for all concerned is just to let Sassafras 
 go his ways. The state of Maryland will be well shet of him, 
 and you'll take no damage in any respect." 
 
 "As a father of a family," said the timorous-looking man, 
 " I look upon Pierce's advice as good." 
 
 " I have something else to say about Sassafras, which the 
 sheriff ought to hear," said Pierce. " Look at this paper. I 
 got it through the cousin I mentioned, copied it with my own 
 hand from the original, which you'll find in the possession of 
 Sassafras, if you ever get hold of him. Now listen : 
 
 " ' Greenbriar, Virginia. 
 
 " ' This is to certify to my friends that John Sassafras, Dem- 
 ocrat and Jackson man, came to my aid in a time of great 
 peril, and saved my life at the imminent risk of his own. 
 
 (Signed) Hexry Clay.' " 
 
 "Let me see that paper," said the sheriff. "Ay! that's 
 ]Mr. Clay's hand and style, sure enough !" 
 
 " Hand and style ! Why, it's a copy !" said the little man. 
 
 " Very well, what if it is ? Do you think Pierce can copy 
 from Harry of the West and me not find it out? It will be 
 of no use for us to put ourselves into trouble and danger in 
 order to take this man. Xo jury will convict. Pierce, copy 
 me that off. We'll stay here till morning, and then take the 
 back track." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 103 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " The western sky was all aflame, 
 The day was well nigh done — 
 Almost upon the western wave 
 Rested the broad, bright sun." 
 
 AT the time of which I write, between forty and fifty years 
 ago, the Republic of the United States of America, 
 although vast in,,exteut even then, had not embraced several 
 great regions which are now within its boundaries. Texas, an 
 empire in itself, so far as extent and fertility are concerned, 
 had not been annexed. Neither California, New Mexico, nor 
 Arizona had been acquired. Moreover, a vast portion of the 
 country, which is now partly settled and fruitful to the hus- 
 bandman, or valuable to the cattle-breeder and miner, was 
 then in a state of nature, wholly unsubdued and almost wholly 
 unknown. Great forests, immense prairies, wide as seas, lofty 
 and rugged mountains, and tracts wild and desolate as the 
 deserts of old Arabia or young Australia, were then part and 
 parcel of its territory. To the west of the Mississippi river the 
 population was very sparse, save towards its mouth, in low lat- 
 itudes ; and it was largely composed of adventurers, trappers, 
 hunters, Indian traders, and the like. In the great state of Ar- 
 kansas there were but a few thousand inhabitants, exclusive of 
 Indians. In Missouri there were not many. The settlements 
 w^ere mostly upon the rivers. On the Arkansas, Little Rock 
 was the only place of note. On the Mississippi and Missouri 
 the old French towns of St. Louis and St. Joseph's were the 
 seats of population and trade. The latter was the northeastern 
 starting point of the famous Sante Fe trail, the route by which 
 the interior of the vast regions of the Southwest was reached, 
 and the bullion of New Mexico brought to the States. The 
 rich deposits of gold and silver in our own country were then 
 as unknown and as unsuspected as was the existence of this 
 continent itself when Christopher Columbus sailed from Palos. 
 The western parts of Missouri and Arkansas were the hunting 
 grounds of powerful and predatory Indian tribes, and the 
 resorts of buffaloes in immense herds. Beyond these western 
 
104 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 boundaries there was, practically, a vast terra incognita, the 
 home of the savage, the buffalo, the elk, and the grizzly bear. 
 Explorers sometimes penetrated into the passes of the Rocky 
 Mountains. Trappers and hunters sometimes ventured in the 
 " Parks," ^vhich lie between their spurs, but their numbers 
 were scanty and their visits far between. Indian traders had 
 here and there, in this vast wilderness, what they dignified by 
 the name of forts, but which were chiefly mere trading posts, 
 erected for the purpose of traffic in buffalo robes, skins and 
 furs. Almost all kept, as near as might be, to the Santa Fe 
 trail, for that was about the only known ro^te, and the sole 
 means of succor and supply in times of danger and scarcity. 
 The Indian tribes, though savage, improvident, turbulent and 
 inconstant, were then much more powerful in numbers and or- 
 ganization than they are now ; while their peoj^le were not 
 nearly as debased, individually, as they have since become. 
 Years ^fter that period, many bands of Sioux, who hunted 
 upon the ujjper waters of the Missouri, about Fort Benton, 
 had never tasted the " fire water," and thought Charles Pri- 
 meaux, manager of the western posts of the American Fur 
 Company, the richest and the greatest man on earth. He re- 
 ceived by a steamboat, which painfully struggled up the Mis- 
 souri to Fort Benton about once in two years, such supplies 
 of powder, lead, blankets, etc., as made the untutored savages 
 think the wealth of the world was poured out at his feet. To 
 the southward, the tribes, always nomadic in their habits, were 
 almost constantly encroaching upon the grounds of other tribes, 
 while what they called their own were encroached upon in 
 turn ; so that it would now be nearly as difficult to assign to 
 any one of them its j)roper limits, as it was for Gibbon to 
 trace the wanderings, the innumerable vicissitudes and changes 
 of many of those hordes of barbarians who overthrew the 
 Roman Empire. It is sufficient here to say that the Indians 
 between the borders of Missouri and Arkansas and the Rocky 
 Mountains were predatory, fierce, aggressive, and all horsemen. 
 And it may also be affirmed that many of the whites with 
 whom they were brought in contact were nearly as ignorant 
 and savage, and quite as greedy and unscrupulous as them- 
 selves. The neighborhoods of the trading posts were some- 
 times the scenes of jirivation which bordered on famine. At 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 105 
 
 other times they rang with drunken revelry, and barbaric 
 23rofusion was mingled with brawl and slaughter. 
 
 On the afternoon of a clear, hot day, towards the end of 
 August, a small train was passing over the practically bound- 
 less prairies to the eastward of the Santa Fe trail. It was 
 trending to the southward and eastward, so as to point for those 
 head-w^aters of the Arkansas river which rise in the neighbor- 
 hood of the Ozark ^lountains. The party had left St. Joseph's 
 many days before, and having gained a good departure to the 
 southwest along the trail, its leader had now inclined to the 
 left, as if he meant to strike the northwest corner of Arkansas. 
 The train itself consisted of four wagons, draw^n by mules and 
 driven by negroes. It was preceded by two men on horseback, 
 and followed by two more. Behind two of the wagons there 
 were powerful horses, clad in sheets and hoods of a light, 
 striped fabric. The pace the travellers went was slow% for the 
 afternoon was intensely hot ; but they proceeded steadily along 
 tow^ards a thin fringe of cottonw^ood trees, or, rather, bushes, 
 dimly seen in the distance, near which the leader knew he 
 should find the great necessity of the prairie at that season — 
 fresh water. One of the men who rode in advance w^as tanned 
 so red, his beard was so overgrown and scorched by the sum- 
 mer sun, and he was so clad and armed in the fashion of the 
 rovers of the West, that he would not have been known by 
 his friends, nor even by his enemies, if some of them had met 
 him there and then. It was Tom Scarlet, Master of the Grange, 
 in the parish of Kidingcumstoke. His companion, the leader 
 and captain of the band, \vas Sassafras, now in his proper ele- 
 ment upon a roving expedition. As he sat his horse with the 
 ease and freedom of the Indian, and the short stirrup and bent 
 knee of all the real riding races, as contrasted with the long 
 leathers and straight leg of those who teach equitation, he 
 seemed to be almost a part of the animal he rode. Sometimes 
 Sassafras had gone as far as New Mexico to the southwest. 
 Upon other occasions he had spent weeks with the chiefs and 
 head men of the Cherokee nation in their territory. Some- 
 times he hunted and camped, and if occasion happened, fought 
 with the nomadic Indians of the plains and mountains. But 
 whenever he went upon his Western expeditions he always took 
 one or two thoroughbred horses with him, and was ready to 
 
106 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 run against anybody for anything. After spending some time 
 at his plantation, Sassafras had taken Tom Scarlet to St. Louis. 
 While there he received from some boatmen on the river cer- 
 tain information -svhich induced him to hurry back to St. Jo- 
 seph's. There he speedily equipped his train. Taking with 
 him four of his negroes, and associating with himself two 
 experienced frontier men, he crossed the Missouri and set forth 
 boldly towards the southwest. The supplies for the needs of 
 himself and men were neither expensive nor extensive. Am- 
 munition, salt, coffee, sugar, bacon and a few bags of corn-meal 
 composed their stock, as they knew they could mainly live by 
 the game which would fall to their rifles. The wagons were 
 loaded, in great part, with bags of oats and bales of corn-fodder, 
 the latter plucked and cured while the stalk was green. These 
 were for the race-horses. Sassafras had learned, by a long and 
 wide experience, that grass and Indian corn would not suflice 
 for the race-horse, if he was to be called upon to display his 
 high powers of speed and endurance. 
 
 They journeyed on. The white men with knives in their 
 belts and pistols in their pockets, their rifles ready to their 
 hands in the wagons. The negroes laughed and sung, while 
 the sweat rolled down their faces in thick streams. 
 
 " Is the weather always as hot as this in these parts ?" said 
 Tom Scarlet. " I protest. Sassafras, that I am roasted and 
 basted, like a goose at Christmas, and before long I think I 
 shall be done brown, if not burned to a cinder. It is terribly 
 oppressive !" 
 
 " The weather is a little hot — hot even for these parts," said 
 Sassafras ; " but you'll get used to it in a little while, and think 
 it very pleasant. For my part, a good deal of sunshine agrees 
 with me. You'll get used to it, and come to like it." 
 
 " I think I have become used to it, but as to liking it, that 
 is another matter. Does it never change here ? Ever since 
 we left St. Joseph's it has been unvarying — blue sky and 
 blazing sun." 
 
 " Well, it does change a little, as you'll find out before very 
 long," said Sassafras. " The moon is near the full. Before 
 she passes into her decline we are likely to have a storm. 
 Before it comes I hope to reach the timber belt at the foot of 
 the Ozark spurs, for it rips heavy over these prairies sometimes, 
 especially after a long spell of dry, hot weather." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 107 
 
 " You seem to know this wild, lonely country as the sailors 
 know the sea, aided by their instruments and the sun, moon, 
 and stars. Sassafras. Were you born about here ?" 
 
 "Born about here! Why, no white men have ever been 
 born about here, and some think there never will be any. 
 But I hold to another opinion. Where buffaloes can live and 
 trains can subsist their men and horses on a passage, folks can 
 make settlements and thrive. So I think this part of the 
 country will finally be staked out and bounded, and towns 
 built, but not yet for a good while." 
 
 " You are a Western man?" said Tom, inquiringly. 
 
 " A Western man, yes. But I was born in Old Virginia, a 
 thousand miles and more to the eastward ; some say nigh upon 
 two thousand by the way we have to travel to get there. My 
 father lived in King GeDrge county. I was but a boy when 
 he moved his family to the West, after mother's death," said 
 Sassafras, slowly. 
 
 " Tell me all about it," said Tom. 
 
 " The all is but little," Sassafras replied. " We were four — 
 'father, two sons and one daughter. I was the youngest. We 
 crossed the mountains with two wagons — the big Virginia 
 wagons with hoops and cotton tilts. We had two thorough- 
 bred mares hitched to the tail of the wagons, and underneath 
 there were chained two couple of the best hounds that ever 
 ran a red fox through the underbrush. It's many years ago, 
 but I remember all the journey. How the wolves used to 
 howl away off from our fire at night ! and how the panther 
 screeched in the rocks and woods above !" 
 
 " And you went on in this way to Missouri ?" 
 
 " No, no ! we settled in Kentucky, and lived there ; but we 
 had ill luck after some time. My father and brother were 
 killed in a fight. I have wiped that score out since," said Sas- 
 safras, sternly, while there was a gleam of fire from his eyes 
 that made his companion start. " My sister married and her 
 husband is a very good man. After that I got restless and 
 went further west." 
 
 They rode on in silence for some time. Then Sassafras 
 cleared his throat, and said, " I visit the graves in Kentucky 
 once a year, and my sister brings her children there to meet 
 me. Sometimes I go to Virginia to the graves we have there." 
 
108 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 
 
 " It is good," said his companion. 
 
 *' So I find it. In old King George my grandfathers and 
 grandmothers and all our kin before them, lie, as well as my 
 mother," said Sassafras. 
 
 " I'm glad of that. Men should hold their forefathers in 
 remembrance ; be proud of them. They have no reason to be 
 ashamed to visit the places of their burial. Some have said 
 that you Americans cared nothing for old homes and the 
 graves of the households that were your ancestors." 
 
 " It's a lie !" said Sassafras, earnestly, " at least, so far as we 
 of Virginia are concerned. Of the down-east people I don't 
 know much, but from what I do know, I believe it to be a lie 
 in regard to them, also." 
 
 They rode on a little further, when Sassafras said, "Look at 
 our horses. What do you think ails them ?" 
 
 " I do not know. There's something unusual," replied Tom. 
 " Perhaps they smell the water, or a wild beast lias passed 
 here." 
 
 "It isn't the water," said Sassafras. " They have been here 
 before, and know where that is as well as I do. No wild beast 
 has passed that I or they know of, although a wolf may 
 have prowled by here last night. There are buffalo within a 
 few miles of us. These horses are old buffalo hunters, and 
 scent a herd long before w^e can see it. AYe may have tongue 
 and steaks for supper." 
 
 The herd of bison, a small one, was soon seen leisurely graz- 
 ing along one of those hollows of the prairie in which the 
 grass was freshest. There were several bulls in the van, great 
 fellows, with massive heads and horns, gigantic shoulders and 
 withers, and wild, shaggy fronts. 
 
 " Keep quiet," said Sassafras. " AVc must let the Gumbos 
 pass them to the right and left, and get upon their flanks. 
 Our horses are pretty well tuckered out, and if the herd stam- 
 pede the slow^est of them will distance us." 
 
 " Gumbos ! are there Indians in sight, too ?" said Tom. 
 
 " Indians! no. The Gumbos are the Frenchmen — our men. 
 They are Gumlio French, which means the French of St. Louis 
 and St. Jo. and all the frontier. First-rate men they are, too, 
 for the plains, the rivers and the mountains." 
 
 " Can't we dismount, and stalk the buffaloes mth our rifles?" 
 said Tom Scarlet. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 109 
 
 « No, you can't stalk buffalo a-foot. They smell the powder 
 in the gun, some say," replied Sassafras. 
 
 " I have heard the same of crows in England, but I don't 
 believe it," returned Tom. 
 
 " Nor I, They can smell the man that carries the gun, and 
 as he is out of sight they are all the more wary," said Sassa- 
 fras. " A good many things concerning wild birds and ani- 
 mals are put down by men who know nothing about it." 
 
 This observation is as true now as it was then. It was 
 gravely announced recently by the London Spectator, in an 
 article on the power of sea-birds to estimate distances, that at 
 a certain place they had calculated the difference of range be- 
 tween shot-guns and rifles as soon as the latter were introduced, 
 and in two or three days kept just outside of the range of two 
 thousand yards. The author of this valuable addition to nat- 
 ural history was evidently unaware of the fact that a hundred 
 riflemen could not hit a sea-bird at two thousand yards once a 
 week, if they shot every day and all day long. 
 
 The train was halted. The proper dispositions were made, 
 and the men let their eager horses go for the buffaloes. A cow 
 in good condition, and a yearling, fell to their fire. The sun 
 now declined, slow and majestic, towards the edge of the west- 
 ern horizon, and all that quarter of the heavens was flooded 
 with rosy light. The camping place at the stunted cottonwood, 
 by the scanty pool of the creek, was reached. The weary horses 
 were relieved of their riders, the mules hobbled and turned 
 loose, and the race-horses watered and fed. The men ate their 
 evening meal and smoked their pipes. Then the first watch 
 was set ; and while the sentinel remained silent and alert, the 
 others stretched themselves upon buffalo robes and fell asleep. 
 The middle watch was kept by Tom Scarlet. He paced to 
 and fro by the wagon. The moon had risen high in the heav- 
 ens, and now flooded the prairie, far and near, with a sea of 
 silver light, whose even wave no shadow broke. A light fog, 
 close to the ground, took the white beams, and looked like 
 smooth water. The scene was grand in its sublimity and awful 
 in its silent desolation. No sound broke the silence of the 
 night. No howl of wolf, nor hoot of owl, nor cry of whip- 
 poor-will invaded it. The very men and horses might have 
 been dead — they were so still and motionless — remains of a 
 
110 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 band of explorers, \Yhose bones would whiten in the realm of 
 the mighty and mysterious wilderness. The young English- 
 man felt the influence of the scene, the hour and the place — 
 the place ! one spot in what seemed boundless space. He 
 thought of his home in the fair vale of the populous little 
 island over the sea. The sadness of the solitude grew upon 
 him. But Sassafras rose silently from the shaggy robe which 
 was his couch, and broke the spell, saying : 
 
 "Watchman, what of the night?" 
 
 " Nothing ; but it seems so lonely here," replied Tom. " We 
 might fancy ourselves the only beings in a wide world shone 
 upon by yonder moon. Sassafras, 1 am sad to-night." 
 
 They sat down together, and talked in the low tones befit- 
 ting the pale hour and the solemn scene that lay before them. 
 The AVestern man, in spite of his wandering life, had read 
 much, in a few books. His memory was retentive, his pene- 
 tration quick and deep. The young Englishman was surprised 
 to find him well-informed upon topics of which he knew but 
 little himself. Sassafras loved history, especially the history of 
 England and of this country, as taught in the lives, the works, 
 and the famous exploits of their great men. After some time, 
 their conversation gradually diverged to the subject of their 
 expedition. 
 
 "If we have been running a false scent after all, it will be 
 very provoking. Sassafras. I shall, however, have had experi- 
 ence of a region vast and wild beyond conception to me before, 
 and of a way of life glorious in its freedom and the absence 
 of petty things and cares." 
 
 * "All true, Tom," said Sassafras ; " you have left petty cares 
 behind you. But then you have also left the true-hearted girl, 
 and the warm friends, and you will rejoice to see them again. 
 We are on no false scent. We shall hit the head of the 
 snake's trail, instead of beginning at the tail of it, that's all." 
 " You still think so, do you ?" said Tom, anxiously. 
 " Do I ? Ay, I do. It isn't a moonlight night in a lone 
 camping place that'll shake my conclusions," replied Sassa- 
 fras. " The information received from Orleans was mystical 
 in words, no doubt, but true enough in substance. Staples 
 was bound up the river and West by way of the Arkansas, 
 making for the Ozarks. Your man, Jagger, was with him, 
 and he had the White Horse." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. m 
 
 " Suppose this information should be the device of an enemy, 
 instead of the ^va^ning of a friend, and intended to lure me 
 into these wild parts ?" said Tom. 
 
 " There is not a bit of sense in supposing any such thing. I 
 sent word to friends in New Orleans to make inquiries. This 
 information comes not from them, but no doubt from somebody 
 who heard from them, and who knows Jagger and all hfs 
 moves; who is also your friend, but don't want Jagger to 
 know it just yet. This is the lay of it, as sure as my name's 
 Sassafras.'^ 
 
 " I hope it is so, but I have no friend in New Orleans," said 
 Tom, after a pause. 
 
 " It must be so," said Sassafras, earnestly. "No enemy who 
 wanted to decoy you into these parts to your harm would have 
 decoyed me along with you, unless he was the biggest fool that 
 ever sailed up the passes of the Mississippi river. Why, 
 man, none other of my sort has as much influence with the In- 
 dians of these plains as I have. I can raise a ' power,' as they 
 called it in Old England, in the days of the Eoses and the 
 Barons. Old Staples has as much influence as I have, if not 
 more, in the Cherokee Nation ; but this business must be set- 
 tled here, where the red horsemen, who roam and hunt all the 
 way from the Ozarks to the Rocky Mountains, will be the re- 
 ferees. They don't like Staples a bit too much ; and he's no 
 favorite at all of the Comanches and Kiowas, whose country 
 is further to the Southwest. Enemy ! why I want to show 
 you ! You've no enemy in all this land but Jagger. Nobody 
 knows who you are but me and him ; and he won't know you 
 when you meet again, if you keep a still tongue." 
 
 " He may have told all sorts of lies about me," said Tom. 
 " The man is a villain. Sassafras, capable of anything. He 
 knows that I was hard upon his heels at Liverpool, but unfor- 
 tunately, by the advice of Cox, I took ship for Baltimore, 
 while Jagger must have sailed for New Orleans." 
 
 " It was not unfortunate that you came to Baltimore, but 
 all the other way. You and I met there, and I reckon my- 
 self a gainer by it," said Sassafras. 
 
 Tom thanked him warmly. 
 
 " Jagger would have had the best of you at New Orleans. 
 I believe you said he had been there before ?" said Sassafras. 
 
112 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX. 
 
 " I said he had been in the West Indies." 
 
 "It's the same thing. FeUows of his hang and stamp 
 ahvays turn up at Orleans at last, when they visit the West 
 India Islands — that is, the Windward Islands. When we got 
 this news at St. Jo., concerning him and Old Staples, I said to 
 myself, ' Bo3's, I know where you're pinting for, and you'll 
 meet somebody at the post, about the spurs of the Ozarks, that 
 you little think of.' Luckily an exj^edition was about to set 
 out for the head-waters of the Kansas river, with supplies, and 
 to hold a talk with some of the chiefs. By that I sent word 
 to a fast friend of mine, a chief among the Cheyennes, whose 
 main hunting-ground is now about Solomon's Fork. I 
 requested him to cross the plains and be at an old rendezvous 
 of ours early in September, or a little earlier if he could." 
 
 "And do you think the Indian will come?" said Tom. 
 
 "As sure as water runs down hill. Cinnamon will come, if 
 alive, with a band of his young men — a band able to hold 
 their own against the drunken, crazy set that are mostly in the 
 neighborhood of the post at this time of year." 
 
 " Well, then, Jagger may have said anything, and may say 
 what he will, and not harm me ?" 
 
 " You are a young man of plenty of sense, in most ways, 
 but as innocent as a baby in a venture of this kind," said 
 Sassafras. " Jagger will never mention your name ; he'll 
 think you are a good thousand miles away, and probably four 
 or five thousand — gone back to England. Why would he 
 mention you ? He would as soon see the d — 1 as you any of 
 these days, because you know that he has run away with a 
 heap of money belonging to other folks and stole your horse. 
 !Now, I can tell you that the people in these parts, whether 
 about the towns, in the woods or on the prairies, don't hanker 
 after horse-thieves, except ai the jope's end or through the 
 sights of a rifle." 
 
 There was great significance in the way Sassafras said this. 
 
 " You say Captain Staples is a shrewd man. Is he honest 
 and fair-minded as well as shrewd ?" said Tom. 
 
 "Honest! Lord bless your innocent heart alive! he's the 
 d — dest rogue in North America! But it ain't everybody 
 that can find him out though. I soon found him out. He's 
 cunning as a fox and treacherous as a wolf." 
 
THE WHITE HOESE OF WOOTTOK. 113 
 
 " You describe a man ^vitliout a single good quality." 
 
 " Xo, I don't," rejDlied Sassafras. " I don't say lie is without 
 plenty of courage of a certain' sort. He has it. Show him 
 prey, and he's fierce as a tiger. But he grows old, and is no 
 longer quick and prompt enough for open fight with a man 
 like me." 
 
 " What hold can Jagger have established upon a man like 
 this ?" said Tom. " I have seen the fellow in a row at home ; 
 and when there were not strong odds on his side he was chicken- 
 hearted." 
 
 " He has no hold on Staples. It is nothing but the attrac- 
 tion of his gold. The old man swings to it like the needle to 
 the north star. Staples has established the hold on him ; and 
 he is not likely to let go wdiile the other man's money lasts. 
 Some difficulty we shall have in managing the matter when 
 we meet them at the post. Your countryman is of no account 
 out here. It would be very easy to settle with him. Staples 
 is the nut that is hard to crack. We might buy him off, but 
 it would cost a sight of money ; and I'm opposed, on principle, 
 to paying him a red cent." 
 
 " So am I," said Tom. " The horse is mine. He has been 
 paid for once, and he shall not be paid for again." 
 
 " Good ! The next thing is, we may gamble for him, or 
 run for him ; and win him at poker, or in a race." 
 
 " But we might lose. Sassafras, and that would be equiva- 
 lent to paying twice over and not getting him at last. We 
 must find some other plan." 
 
 " Very well," replied Sassafras. " If no better way ofiTers, we 
 can take him by the art of war — a mixture of force and strat- 
 agem. By making all the Indians, save a select band of Cin- 
 namon's men, drunk, we can get up a free fight, and while 
 h — I's bells are ringing can run the horse off to a cache I know 
 of before Staples and Jagger can tell that the hair is still 
 upon their heads." 
 
 " I do not think it will do," said Tom. " Innocent blood 
 would be shed. The horse is my property. When I have 
 found to a certainty where he is, cannot I recover him by the 
 law ?" 
 
 " The law ! why bless your innocent soul, ' Old Father 
 Antic, the law,' was never within some hundreds of miles of 
 8 
 
114 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K 
 
 this place. There's no law here but such as white meu and 
 red men can make good with knives and rifles," replied Sas- 
 safras, laughing. 
 
 " It is true, we are far in the desert, but the law has long 
 arms. Are we not still in the United States ?" 
 
 " Ay, lad, in the territory of the United States, that we be, 
 and if we were to pass a thousand miles further to the west- 
 ward we should be still. But only a little of this land is 
 staked and bounded, like lots in St. Jo., and no sheriff or 
 marshal has ever served a writ here. We are in what is called 
 the Indian Territory, an immense country that white men 
 know but very little about, as yet — prairies and forests ; plains 
 and mountains ; then more plains and more mountains and 
 barren wastes, and big rivers that in flood time come thunder- 
 ing down to make up the great streams of the Missouri and 
 the Arkansas." 
 
 With this Sassafras rose, and the convei-sation ceased. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 "Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows, 
 
 AVhile gaily sailing o'er the azure realm, 
 In gallant trim the gilded vessel goes, 
 
 Youth at the prow, and ])leasure at the helm, 
 Unmindful of the treacherous whirlwind's sway, 
 That, hushed in grim repose, expects his evening prey." 
 
 IVTEXT day, and the next, the journey of the party was con- 
 -^^ tinned towards the south and east, Sassafras and Tom 
 Scarlet riding in the lead as before. The negroes, merrily 
 carolling their old plantation songs, followed with the teams 
 and wagons. The Frenchmen brought up the rear. The 
 swells of the prairie now rose higher at almost every mile, and 
 it was cut and scraped here and there by ravines, in crossing 
 some of which the quick eye of the frontier man detected the 
 tracks of wolves. Water was more frequent, and at some 
 pools they saw where buflttloes had wallowed in the mud upon 
 the marge. The dead stillness of the prairie left behind was 
 exchanged for sounds and sights of life, even if it were but 
 the hoarse croak and flight of ravens, which sailed in circles 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 115 
 
 overliead on ragged wings. At length Sassafras paused and 
 pointed out, in the distance, the loom of a range of hills to the 
 south-southeast. They were the. spurs of the Ozark Moun- 
 tains, and on the far side of them, Tom was told, where the 
 slopes were sheltered from the sweep of the prairie winds in 
 winter, they should find belts of timber, white oaks and black 
 walnuts. 
 
 The young Englishman had now grown very weary of the 
 blue above and the brown below. The heat still continued. 
 The same unclouded sky was over all ; the fervent sun still cast 
 its burning rays upon the dry or reeking earth. It was sorely 
 oppressive. The mules stood it well, much better than the 
 horses. The approach to the uplands was good news to Tom 
 Scarlet. The notion of hills and groves, clear springs and 
 green trees, verdant slopes and grassy valleys, took possession 
 of him, and he began to lament that he had left Danger at 
 the plantation near St. Jo. 
 
 " Sassafras," said he, " I'd give a trifle if we had brought 
 Danger with us. He is a rare horse for a timber country." 
 
 " Horse for a timber country !" replied the man of the fron- 
 tier ; " the timber in the parts hereabouts isn't post-and-rail 
 fences, between grass lands, with a clump of oak trees here, 
 another of ash yonder, and another of elm a little further off. 
 It's woods ; small trees, but many of them, about the rocky 
 ground ; big trees, the growth of ages, in the rich, deep places 
 where the good soil has gathered thick. Underneath their 
 arms lie the mouldering trunks of other giants, grown long 
 ago and overthrown by the storms of other days. The squalls 
 come through the shutes between the hills with a power some- 
 times, and level miles of tall timber flat in a minute. Why, 
 the Indians can ride little better than a foot pace there ; and 
 unless Danger is quicker than a cat, he'd be down before he 
 had gone five rods." 
 
 " But if we had him we might run him a race at the trad- 
 ing post. It's my belief he can give any horse in this part of 
 the country a stone of weight, and a beating. I fully believe 
 that," said Tom. 
 
 " I don't think he could give one or two a pound," said 
 Sassafras, glancing over his shoulder at the gray mare and the 
 bay horse that leisurely followed the wagons. " Good as he 
 
116 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 may have been in England, I would not trust him here. Let 
 him stay at St. Jo. My boys ^Yill gallop him along gently, 
 and get him acclimated. Late along in the fall, when the 
 corn shocks stand in the fields, and the shucked heaps are 
 yellow on the black ground ; when the leaves show crimson, 
 russet and gold among the green, and the hoar-frost glistens 
 on the grass in the first beams of the morning sun, we may 
 perhaps bring him to a race ; that is, if we get back to the 
 settlements in time. Besides, you told me he was not alto- 
 gether thoroughbred." 
 
 " Yes, he must be well enough bred for this country, as the 
 stain is remote. He is by Stumps out of a mare by Sultan, 
 her dam by Walton." 
 
 " Well, go on ; that ain't half enough. What about the 
 dam of the Walton mare ?" said Sassafras. 
 
 Mr. Scarlet looked at Sassafras as if surprised. Then he 
 answered : 
 
 " Concerning her there is some doubt ; she was certainly got 
 by Tramp, and many said that her dam was by Dick An- 
 drews, out of a thoroughbred mare." 
 
 " That story won't hold. A Dick Andrews mare would 
 hardly have been put to Tramp, as he was got by Dick An- 
 drews," said Sassafras. 
 
 " That's true enough ! In fact. Sir Jerry Snaffle and John 
 Bullfinch say that the dam of the Tramp mare ims out of a 
 thoroughbred mare, but by a gypsy pony, instead of by Dick 
 Andrews. This pony was well-bred himself, and got into the 
 pasture where the mare was at spring grass. So you see, even 
 if this is the true bill. Danger is almost thoroughbred," replied 
 Tom. 
 
 " Ah, that almod ! How many races have been almost won 
 that would have been quite won if the horse had been quiie, 
 instead of almost, thoroughbred ! I go in for a clear pedigree, 
 especially for stock to run over a distance of ground and 
 repeat heats. When there's a black drop in it, it is sure to show 
 itself some time, and it generally happens at a very inconve- 
 nient time." 
 
 " Do you mean to say that your horses — these behind us — 
 have full, clean pedigrees, according to English rules ?" 
 " I certainly do. As clean as any in your Stud-Book. They 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 117 
 
 are without a cold cross, right back to Eclipse and King 
 Herod, Matchem and Snap," said Sassafras. 
 
 " Why, how can that be. Sassafras ?" 
 
 " In this way : our forefathers in Virginia, Maryland and 
 the Carolinas imported from England many horses and mares 
 of the best blood in the kingdom. The importations of others, 
 as good, has been going on, in a degree, ever since. The thor- 
 oughbred blood has been kept unsullied by any other strain ; 
 and these are of it," said Sassafras, looking back at the bay 
 and gray. 
 
 " It may be as you say ; but I hardly believe that the thor- 
 oughbred horse of real high stamp can have maintained his 
 excellence here." 
 
 « Why not ?" 
 
 "Well, because things are so different. The country is 
 vast, overwhelming ! But it isn't like England, you know." 
 
 " Did you expect it to be like England — come, Tom ?" said 
 Sassafras. 
 
 " Well, not altogether, but in a measure I did." 
 
 "That's where all the trouble between Englishmen and 
 Americans comes from," said Sassafras, earnestly. " Each wants 
 to find the other country like his own, and the other people 
 like his own people. And because God never made the coun- 
 tries alike, and in the nature of things the people can't be 
 just alike, they pitch in and abuse one another." 
 
 Mr. Scarlet stared at the roving, raciug philosopher for 
 about a minute. He then said : 
 
 " I shall never speak ill of this country or of its people. 
 I should be a fool or a very ungrateful man if I did ; but 
 there are things here I don't think I could put up with perma- 
 nently." 
 
 " What may those things be ?" said Sassafras. 
 
 "The heat has been intolerable for two or three months, 
 and before we left the settlements and wooded land the mos- 
 quitoes w^ere awful." 
 
 Sassafras laughed. 
 
 "You had a very light touch of the mosquitoes, considering." 
 
 " Considering what ?" 
 
 "Considering the time of year," said Sassafras. "How- 
 ever, a few musquitoes are too many for strangers. Like 
 
118 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 
 
 the giant in the story book, they can smell the blood of an 
 Englishman. I remember a boxer who had lauded at Orleans, 
 a stout, ruddy fellow, by the name of Bonnox, brought over 
 from Hampshire by the sailor Cox. On the second morning 
 after his arrival he looked as if he had lately had the small- 
 pox, or had been having a turn-up with somebody and got the 
 worst of it. His eyes were bunged up, and his nose was well- 
 nigh as big as a champagne bottle. * Halloo, Bonnox !' said I, 
 * have you been fighting here already ?' ' Noa, master, noa T 
 says he. * It's the d — d insecks as worrits me. Blast such a 
 country as this, I say ! Give me Old England, even if we're 
 never able to bring off a civil fight there again." 
 
 When Tom had laughed, Sassafras continued : 
 
 *' Such men .as Bonnox, if it's summer time, generally go 
 back home after a stay here of about a fortnight or three 
 "weeks. That time is spent, for the most part drunk, in expa- 
 tiating upon the joys of life in England and swearing at every- 
 thing in this benighted country. There is another class much 
 more to blame, because they ought to know better than the 
 poor ignorant fellows of the Bonnox stamp." 
 
 " And what say those ?" 
 
 " O, it runs after this fashion : < Having seen a great deal 
 of the country, and given its people, institutions, climate, and 
 so forth the most careful consideration, I have come to the im- 
 partial conclusion that everything here is wrong. The State 
 House at Albany is a wretched building. At Buffalo the 
 houses are built of wood, and the people use it for fuel, which 
 was once the wasteful and improvident practice of the lower 
 classes in England. I admit that there is coal at Pittsburgh, 
 but the lamentable truth is that it is nothing like as black as 
 our English coal is. The country about the Ohio river is too 
 hilly. About the Mississippi it is too flat. The Missouri is a 
 muddy, turbulent stream, not at all like the Avon or the 
 Thames. Finally, there's no ale anywhere, and the American 
 water is unfit to drink.' " 
 
 After another laugh, Sassafras continued : 
 
 " This is the style of the people who after a few weeks in 
 this country go home to England and write a book about it, or 
 a few letters to the newspapers, in which this western laud is 
 rode over rou2:h-shod. Now the men know no more about this 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 119 
 
 country than a hen scratching on the toj) of a hill knows of 
 the ores that lie beneath. But then in consequence of what 
 one fool has published in England up jumps a bigger fool here 
 and denounces England, lock, stock and barrel, for everything 
 she has done since Julius Caesar's time. So the game goes on 
 — see-saw ! you're another ! — and it's carried on in the main 
 by those wlio think themselves above their neighbors. The 
 truth is that the prevailing notions in the Eastern cities about 
 the people of the West are no more correct than those of the 
 conceited English tourists. Some day they'll find out that 
 there is a little of this country outside of Boston and New 
 York." 
 
 "There is a great deal of misconception, no doubt. To 
 understand things rightly, we must see them close and observe 
 them carefully," Tom remarked. 
 
 " True, my friend. Look at that speck yonder in the sky," 
 said Sassafras, pointing to the southeast. "What do you 
 think that is ?" 
 
 " I don't know. It looks like a skylark hovering high over 
 a brown harvest field," replied Tom. 
 
 " That is an eagle, ten feet or thereabouts across the wings," 
 said Sassafras. " But we must better the pace. The change 
 in the weather I told you of will come at sundown or soon 
 after, and we ought to be off* the levels and to the leeward of 
 a hill when the storm strikes." 
 
 To the untaught Englishman there was little or nothing in 
 the aspect of the heavens to indicate the storm which Sassafras 
 so confidently predicted as close at hand ; but to the expe- 
 rienced eye of the latter, and those of the Frenchmen, the 
 signs were unmistakable. The cloud, no bigger than a man's 
 hand, had appeared upon the western horizon, and they knew 
 what would speedily follow. They held a brief consultation. 
 Then the course of their journey was slightly changed and its 
 rate increased. The mules, stimulated by the whips and loud 
 cries of the negroes, were put to their best pace wherever the 
 ground was good. The party held straight for the nearest of 
 the bold ridges which bounded the prairie. It was still at 
 some distance, but had taken form and substance to the eye— a 
 rough, sharp slope, with a few stunted, twisted trees and strag- 
 glin'g bushes on its northwestern front. Sassafras now looked 
 
120 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO X. 
 
 over bis right shoulder frequently aiul called to the negroes to 
 hasten. They, iu turn, shouted to the mules lustily, calling 
 them by name, sometimes with coaxing and entreaty, and 
 again with loud yells and vituperative epithets. The sun was 
 still tolerably high iu the heavens, and the heat was even 
 greater than at his meridian. The light eastern breeze had 
 almost died away to a close, sultry calm. In the western board 
 there appeard a large bank of pale, woolly-looking clouds, 
 Avith here and there a white, rounded dome rising above it. 
 Gradually, and as if inflated by some vast power within, these 
 domes swelled upwards and outwards, and threw forth other 
 and loftier domes of the like shape and color. Great snowy 
 mountains seemed to be heaped one on another in the w^est, 
 with other mountains, many and huge, struggling and push- 
 ing from below, in all that quarter of the sky. It was as if 
 the powers of the air were gathering their forces on the con- 
 fines of the earth to try and overwhelm it. Slowdy, and with 
 the calm grandeur of nature before a great convulsion, these 
 white aerial mountains, half earth, half cloud to the erring 
 sight, rose to meet the declining sun. He sank in their eclipse, 
 gilding the edges and domes of the moving mountains for a 
 few moments with rims of burning gold. Then a sombre 
 shade fell upon the western world from the towering clouds, 
 whose bases had become as black as night. The ravens flew to 
 the left. There was a low m.oan over the land, as if the earth 
 drew breath for the coming struggle in one last flutter of the 
 eastern breeze. 
 
 The travellers reached the ridge, and with shoulders to the 
 wheels and loud shouts to the mules, forced the wagons up it. 
 They crossed hastily, and descended into a low bottom, among 
 trees of some size and thick underbrush. Here Sassafras soon 
 found the refuge iu which he intended to pass the night. It 
 was a rude, half-ruined structure of logs, bark and saplings, 
 built in the centre of a group of the largest trees. It took the 
 work of about an hour to stop its holes and brace its sides, 
 against the rapidly coming storm. The men worked ^Yith a 
 will. Buflalo robes were stretched over the top and down the 
 windward side. The provisions, feed and fodder were carried 
 into the place. The wagons were drawn up as close to its 
 sides as might be, so as to break, in a measure, tlie stroke of 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 121 
 
 tlie wind. The latter would come from the west, but Sassa- 
 fras knew that it might chojj to the uorth or south. The 
 mules were hobbled, fed and turned to leeward. The horses 
 were led in and fastened in close array to the sides of 
 the hut. Then the fire was built and kindled, and while the 
 dusk of the coming night caught a deeper, darker shade from 
 the advancing storm, the party sat down to their evening meal. 
 It is a wise provision of nature that while a man is in bodily 
 health he will eat. Sickness may abate the appetite, but im- 
 minent peril, or the near approach of certain death, does not. 
 The forlorn wretch whose feet are almost upon the steps of the 
 scaffold, eats heartily in the very presence of the hangman. 
 The sailor in a sinking ship, with boats stove by the raging 
 sea, and the crags of an iron-bound coast grinning in his face, 
 takes his last meal unsparingly. The men under the shelter 
 of the poles and bark, beneath trees already groaning and 
 sighing, were not at all likely to neglect their fare. They ate 
 and cracked their jokes. Some told of storms they had for- 
 merly experienced in that region until the war of elements had 
 actually begun. 
 
 Meantime the black and ponderous sky, to the seeming 
 almost as solid as the earth itself, came towering on. Cloudy 
 mountains, like Alps on Alps, and Teneriffe on lofty Andes 
 piled, bearing the red pennons of the forked lightning, and the 
 chariots of the thunder ! Before the storm really began there 
 was darkness for a few minutes. Then lightning split the 
 black arch that hung like a pall over the troubled earth ; the 
 thunder crashed and rolled away to the eastward ; torrents of 
 rain came beating down ; and the fierce winds rushed in to 
 complete the uproar. Half the night the tempest raged. 
 Towards the last, by the flashes of the spent lightning, beasts 
 of chase, elk or deer, might be seen mingled with the mules 
 of the travellers. 
 
122 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " Upon the banks where panthers steal along, 
 And the dread Indian chants a dismal song, 
 Where human fiends on midnight errands walk, 
 And bathe in brains the murderous tomahawk, 
 There shall the flocks on thymy pastures stray. 
 And shepherds dance at Summer's opening day." 
 
 ON the raorniDg after the storm the sky was clear to the 
 westward, but iu the East masses of black-blue cloud 
 hung about, as if threateuiug to return and renew the wild 
 tumult of the night. Most of those iu the camp slept soundly 
 towards the morning hours, lulled as it seemed by the low 
 rumble of the then distant thunder. The French hunters 
 were more wakeful. They arose at dawn, renewed the fire, 
 lit their pipes, and made a pot of coffee, the fragrant and 
 favorite beverage of the frontier. Having partaken of this, 
 the Frenchmen woke the negroes, then took their rifles and 
 went upon a little scout. Not far from the camp they came 
 upon the tracks of elk ; whereupon Franyois, the elder of the 
 two, told his companion to beat through the underbrush of 
 the swale along the banks of the creek running from a spring 
 beneath the ridge, while he would mount the ridge towards 
 the prairie, and lie in wait for a shot at any animal which 
 might pass. The elk, however, had gone on through the 
 wooded valley to the higher hills which lay to the southeast 
 of it, and Francois waited in vain. After some time he passed 
 down the declivity up which the wagons had been forced the 
 previous evening, and, looking out upon the prairie, suddenly 
 drew back to the edge of the cover and crouched down among 
 the stunted bushes. He was motionless and silent, but his 
 quick and searching glances swept the swells of the prairie 
 far and near, and he looked keenly along the broken outline 
 and ragged scrub of the ridge. He laid down with his ear 
 near the ground, and listened intently, but heard no sound 
 save the rustle of the mules l)ehind him. A low, peculiar 
 call, like the plaintive cry of some wild animal, brought Jules 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 123 
 
 to his side in a few minutes. Franyois, with a gesture, indi- 
 cated the necessity for silence. He then pointed to the prairie, 
 and exchanged a few words with Jules. Thereupon the latter 
 moved with the crouching action and silent, stealthy step of a 
 panther, along the ridge towards the south, while Franyois 
 advanced with like craft and caution in the opposite direction. 
 About-an hour elapsed before the two men met again at the point 
 from which they started. Their search had been ineffectual, and 
 Franyois, stooping low, went swiftly out upon the prairie for a 
 short distance. He soon returned, and then they went down 
 to the camp. When they reached it the other men had fed 
 the horses and mules, and got their own breakfasts. 
 
 Sassafras was seated on a bale of fodder, smoking and pon- 
 dering. 
 
 "Any game about?" said he 
 
 " We came upon the tracks of elk," said Fran9ois, " but 
 found that they had gone off to the higher hills. I think 
 they left as soon as the storm abated." 
 
 "And no wonder, mon Dieu !" said Jules; "for there have 
 been other visitors about since we went into camp. Sassafras, 
 there are moccasin prints about the ridge, and a band of In- 
 dians dismounted upon the prairie last night." 
 
 At this relation Sassafras exhibited no alarm, and scarcely 
 any surprise. The Frenchmen, too, went at their breakfast in 
 a very matter-of-fact sort of way. The former watched the 
 smoke as it curled upwards from his pipe, as if waiting for 
 the guides to satisfy their appetites before questioning them 
 further. He, however, ordered the negroes to load the wagons, 
 and then said to the Frenchmen : 
 
 " Boys, we are no more alone. We must have been watched 
 yesterday for many a mile, as nobody could follow our trail 
 after the storm fairly loomed up. Either the Indians were 
 close upon us before the storm broke, or knew where to find 
 us when it was over." 
 
 Fran5ois and Jules looked up as though about to speak, but 
 one appeared to wait for the other, and both remained silent. 
 Sassafras then added : 
 
 " This is what I propose : we w'ill be in no hurry to move 
 until we have tried to find out something about these new- 
 comers. What say you, Fran9ois ?" 
 
124 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " I say the plau is good, so far as it goes," replied Fran wis ; 
 " but, Sassafras, we shall hardly learu mueh about this party 
 \vhile we stay here. This much I can tell already — the baud 
 is small. There are six Indians and six horses, no more. They 
 did not come to the ridge until after the rain had fallen ; the 
 tracks showed it. When they dismounted and climbed the 
 ridge, they walked wide, and some of them slipped." • 
 
 " Which shows that they are Indians of the plains, and 
 almost always on horseback," said Sassafras, quietly. " But 
 if there were but six here, they know where to find six more — 
 eh, Jules ? But which way do you think they have gone ?" 
 
 " It is not easy to say," replied Francois. " They set off to 
 the north of west, and the tracks show that they galloped fast. 
 But they may have doubled back, for all we know, and be 
 behind the ridge to the south and east of us." 
 
 " I hardly think they have done so," said Sassafras. " The 
 Indians of the plains like to keep on the backs of their horses, 
 and being but a small party, they would not be likely to leave 
 the prairie for the hills and the timber. Besides, they may 
 be a part of Cinnamon's baud upon the scout to meet us." 
 
 " Is it not too soon for their arrival ?" said Jules. " The 
 South Fork of the Solomon is a long way off"." 
 
 " I know ib," returned Sassafras, " and did not expect to 
 see or hear anything of him and his men so soon. Still, the 
 Indians travel fast and far, and Cinnamon is not the man to 
 loiter by the way when a friend calls for him." 
 
 "Ay, but Indians must eat though, and so must their 
 horses," remarked Franyois. " It may be that the chief got 
 your message a long way east of his usual hunting-grounds. 
 News travels fast over the plains, when it is of a party bear- 
 ing presents and going to have a talk." 
 
 " But as Cinnamon is a chief, if he heard of coming pres- 
 ents and a talk, would he not stay to get his share?" said Tom 
 Scarlet. 
 
 " The question is well put," replied Sassafras ; " but I do 
 not think he would, after my message was carried to him. 
 Cinnamon is a young and active chief, more renowned for 
 hunts, forages and marches than for council with the whites. 
 The talks are mostly left to the elder men ; and as for the 
 presents, the share of himself and the braves of his band 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 125 
 
 would be kept for them. I have good reason to know that 
 he will be here soon, if he is not already in the neighborhood, 
 and I think these men may belong to his band. But they 
 may be none of his and we must move warily. Whatever 
 the Indians may be, who were here last night, and who are 
 certainly not far off this morning, they know our strength. 
 They are aware that no six or sixteen, for that matter, can 
 make a raid on us with impunity. We are eight, three of us 
 tried frontier men. AYe have the best of arms and the In- 
 dians know it. And though they may not belong to Cinna- 
 mon's band themselves, they will be apt to know that the 
 red riders of the Horse-head from the Forks of the Solomon 
 have come far east on the plains. This little party will not 
 attack." 
 
 " They may know where to find a bigger one," said Jules. 
 
 " What does ' red riders of the Horse-head' mean ?" said 
 Tom Scarlet to Franyois. 
 
 " It means the Cheyennes. Their totem is a horse-head ; 
 and unless I'm mistaken, Sassafras carries it of right, as one 
 of the tribe." 
 
 Sassafras looked at his pistols and examined the lock of his 
 rifle, a heavy weapon of soft metal, with the Kentucky gain- 
 ing twist. The guides finished their meal, and by this time 
 the wagons were loaded. 
 
 " Hitch up, boys," said the leader to the negroes. " Fran- 
 cois, Jules, I have settled in my own head upon our plan of 
 action. If you have any objection to make when you hear it, 
 speak your minds. Jules shall take charge of the train, 
 snake the wagons along the ridge to the nearest place to the west 
 of this, and then cut across the bend of the prairie towards the 
 southwest bluff", which is visible from the top of the ridge 
 above us. You and I, Fraugois and Tom, will make our way 
 on horseback iuside the ridges and hills and round the bight 
 of the bend out of sight. Before Jules gets to the bluff" we 
 shall know a little more about our neighbors than we do now, 
 unless they have gone right off" towards the west, which is not 
 at all likelv. They are within eyeshot from a tall tree, no 
 doubt." 
 
 "The plan is good," said the guides. 
 
 " Ay, I think it'll do ! Jules, if you reach within half a 
 
126 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 mile of the bluff without seeiug or hearing of us, halt there," 
 said Sassafras. 
 
 " The train will be so weak that the Indians may make a 
 rush and carry off the race-horses," said Tom Scarlet. 
 
 " To some, if they knew the quality of Virginia and the 
 Young Chief, the temptation would hardly be resistible," re- 
 plied Sassafras. " But these Indians number but six. They'll 
 know there are rifles in the train, of long range and true, 
 especially when fired from the rest of a wagon rail by a man 
 stretched upon his breast. Besides they'll know that the three 
 horsemen out of sight are scouting them, and ready to come 
 in unawares. Come ! we three shall have far to go, and there 
 will be no riding fast upon this route. Boys, take care of the 
 racers." 
 
 With this he mounted his horse, and followed by Tom Scar- 
 let and Francois, rode away into the timber and underbrush 
 of the bottom, and crossed the creek which meandered along it. 
 
 The ridge of hills which ran out to the bluff spoken of as 
 its westernmost elevation, swept round in the section of a cir- 
 cle, so that the teams upon the prairie would travel by a 
 straight and comparatively short line, while Sassafras and his 
 party would go round the bend. This he deemed necessary in 
 order to be able to survey the plain unseen from time to time, 
 and to reach the bluff unknown to the Indian baud, which, be- 
 yond all doubt, was prowling in the neighborhood. This route 
 w^as impracticable to the wagons, and therefore the separation 
 was made. Threading his way among such obstacles as ra- 
 vines, fallen timber, and the thickest growths of vines and 
 brambles, Sassafras led Frauyois and Tom Scarlet along the 
 rough and devious route. At intervals, when they were upon 
 the high ground, they could see the wagons with their teams 
 and drivers, following the lead of Jules, upon the prairie. No 
 Indians appeared, nor could Sassafras detect any signs by 
 which it might be inferred that they had approached the ridge 
 at any other place than the one above the last night's camp. 
 He knew their stealthy character so well, however, that he and 
 Frau9ois remitted no vigilance, and watched warily as they 
 made progress over the rough and woody ground. The sun 
 was n-ow lofty and triumphant in the heavens, like a monarch 
 who has subdued and driven away the legions of a formidable 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 127 
 
 rebellion. The effects of the storm were seen, however, in the 
 branches strewn upon the soil, and here and there in the trunk 
 and top of a large tree, which, loaded with wet, and stricken 
 by the furious assault of the wind, had come down with a sough 
 and a mighty crash. It was high noon, and upon the banks of 
 a swollen creek in a grassy bottom the party halted to bait 
 and water their horses. When they remounted they ascended 
 the ridge and saw the teams slowly moving across the prairie 
 at the distance of four or five miles. Nothing was discovered 
 of the Indians. Two or three miles further was travelled in 
 solitude and silence, for neither beast, bird nor man appeared. 
 Then Sassafras dismounted and again ascended the ridge. 
 Upon its crest he laid down his rifle, and climbed the tallest 
 tree he could find. From amongst its topmost boughs the 
 frontier man, with an eye trained for ranging over a great 
 space, like that of a sailor who sees the far-off land while it is 
 still invisible to his passengers, and nothing but sea and sky 
 appear to their untaught vision, surveyed the country for 
 many miles around. For a time he made no discovery. At 
 leugth, however, his roving gaze was fixed upon the southwest, 
 beyond the western bluff', and upon the prairie. Swinging 
 himself from bough to branch, and from branch to lower arm, 
 he slid down the trunk, rejoined his companions, mounted his 
 horse, and led the way. 
 
 "Any signs of the Indians?" said Francois. 
 
 "Yes, but they are at a smart distance and in ambush," 
 replied Sassafras. " They have made their horses lie down in 
 a hollow, and are watching the train as it moves towards 
 them." 
 
 "Indians of the West?" said Francois. 
 
 "Ay, no doubt of it, for they keep on the prairie, and use 
 what little cover it affords with much craft and skill. They 
 forget, however, that where trees grow a tree can be clomb," 
 replied Sassafras ; and then he hummed : 
 
 " 0. the oak and the ash and the bonny hiek'ry tree, 
 They do all flourish best in the "West country." 
 
 " Do you think them part of Cinnamon's band ?" said Fran- 
 9ois, anxiously. 
 
 " I think it probable they are," returned Sassafras ; " but I 
 
128 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 
 
 shall be more able to judge when we reach the head of the 
 bluff. They lie iu a buuch to the sou 'west of it, and within a 
 couple of miles. From a tree-top on it I shall be able to look 
 down upon their cache and make them out." 
 
 " It would seem from their lying in wait, near the route of 
 the train, that they mean to attack, and are none of Cinna- 
 mon's men," said Tom Scarlet. 
 
 " Not so," replied Sassafras. " If they intended to raid upon 
 the wagons they would lie behind the knoll and pretty close 
 to it, so as to come out with a sudden rush and a yell, and 
 close before the rifles could be brought to bear. As it is, they 
 would have to ride about a couple of miles in plain sight 
 before they could strike a blow." 
 
 " That's it," said Fran9ois ; " they are only scouting." 
 
 " Only scouting," repeated Sassafras. " They are now ob- 
 serving the train, believing that it belongs to friends of their 
 chief. They do this in Indian fashion, wary-like, and ready 
 to go off without parley, and without letting us know what they 
 are and what they came for, if they conclude that we are not 
 the men. Besides, they go upon the certainty, that while they 
 are watching the wagons they may be watched themselves by 
 another band. Then, again, they know that three horsemen 
 who were with the wagons yesterday are with them no longer. 
 They want to account for that before they come near and 
 show themselves. I reckon they expect us to be doing just 
 about what we are doing, and think that we shall appear 
 upon the route before another camp is made." 
 
 "That is it," said Fran9ois. "They lie hidden, as they 
 think, out on the prairie, because they are uncertain where we 
 shall debouch." 
 
 No more was said, but the pace was increased so far as the 
 nature of the bushy, broken ground would allow. Still the 
 progress was slow, so that the sun was sinking towards the 
 west, like a great orb of red gold in the deep azure sky, when 
 they reached the west knoll and dismounted. Standing upon 
 his horse's croup. Sassafras gra.«ped a branch of a tree above 
 his head, and swung himself upon it. Climbing to a lofty fork, 
 his lookout commanded the prairie for a vast distance, all lit 
 up and mellowed by the beams of the sinking sun. The 
 "wagons were halted half a mile north and east of the bluff 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 129 
 
 on which he was. The Indians yet lay close in the hollow 
 way, and made no move. It seemed that they still thought 
 themselves unobserved, and were yet uncertain whether to 
 advance or retreat. The frontier man looked long and fixedly, 
 but at length descended to the ground and rejoined his anxious 
 companions. 
 
 " Well," said Tom Scarlet, " what do you make out ?" 
 
 " Some of Cinnamon's young men," said Sassafras, confi- 
 dently. " You two wait here while I ride out to where they 
 are, and have a talk." 
 
 " May it not be dangerous ?" said Tom Scarlet. " I see not 
 how you can be certain of their character and tribe from a 
 mere glance at a group of men and horses lying dovrn two 
 miles oflf." 
 
 Sassafras and the Frenchman laughed. 
 
 " Well, now," said the former, " it seemed as certain to me 
 that these Indians were part of Cinnamon's band as it would 
 if I had seen the chief, armed and mounted, at the head of 
 them. But then I w^as the ' man up a tree.' However, you 
 remain here. Ten minutes will settle the business." With this 
 he mounted and rode down the western slope of the bluff. 
 
 "I cannot understand it," said Tom Scarlet to the guide. 
 The latter had seated himself snugly in his saddle, had filled 
 his pipe with much deliberation, struck fire from knife and 
 flint, caught the spark with well-dried punk, and was now 
 pufiiug away with much content. 
 
 " I say, Francois, I cannot understand it," repeated Mr. 
 Scarlet, with some perplexity. 
 
 " Very likely not ; I couldn't myself once, but that was 
 long ago. I can now," replied Franyois. 
 
 " And you say that, partially seen, the character of Indians 
 could be made out two miles off?" 
 
 " Yes, four miles off, by Sassafras, when he is well acquent 
 with the tribe they belong to," said Frangois, positively. 
 
 Sassafi-as had now reached the prairie. Tom Scarlet and 
 Fran9ois saw him canter off towards the Indians. As soon as 
 they perceived his approach the braves rose to their feet, got 
 up their horses and mounted them. Then one rode forward 
 to meet the white man, each carrying his rifle across his 
 horse's withers. They met. Some words and signs were 
 
130 THE WHITE EORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 exchanged. The Indian pointed with his gun towards wooded 
 heights lying away in the southeast and dim in the distance. 
 The savage then returned to his silent band, and the six rode 
 rapidly away. Skirting the blufi' and making a signal to 
 Scarlet and Fran9ois, Sassafras rode towards Jules and the 
 wagons. Half an hour later the camp was formed and supper 
 eaten. Afterwards, by the camp-fire, Sassafras informed his 
 friends that the Cheyenne chief was near at hand with a band 
 of hunters and braves. 
 
 This intelligence was received by the Frenchmen without 
 emotion, but the negroes appeared to be excited and disturbed. 
 A sort of natural antipathy existed between the red and black 
 races, such as is found between the domesticated dog and the 
 wolf. The Indians, hunters and warriors almost from the 
 cradle, disdaining steady work, barbarian in all their tastes, 
 and without knowledge of any of the arts of civilized life, 
 looked down upon the blacks as a people made by the Creator 
 expressly for labor and bondage. The blacks, while secretly 
 holding the Indians in contempt, as ignorant savages, good 
 for nothing but to be scalped, yet feared and hated them, as 
 their ancestors on the banks of the Niger feared and hated 
 the lion of the great woods and the crocodile of the reedy mud- 
 banks. But the certain intelligence that the band of Indians 
 from the western side of the plains and the spurs of the Rocky 
 Mountains had arrived, wrought most efiect upon the young 
 Englishman. In all probability, he had never seen an Indian 
 before that day. A fellow had, indeed, been exhibited at a 
 country fair, in company with a giant and a dwarf, as an In- 
 dian. He ate raw beef and performed strange antics; but 
 some thought that though he might be savage enough for any- 
 thing, he never came Irom the tribes of North America. This 
 was afterwards confirmed by the worthy landlord of the Seven 
 Bells. He declared that, going to his back door in answer to 
 a summons late at night, he there found the proprietor of the 
 caravan and the Indian ; when the latter swore at the show- 
 man in round English, with a rich brogue, and drank the 
 greater part of three pots of beer with exceeding relish. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 131 
 
 CHAPTEK XV. 
 
 " Loud rush the torrent floods 
 The Western wilds among, 
 And free, in green Cohimbia's woods, 
 The hunter's bow is strung." 
 
 TNSTEAD of proceeding to join his Indian friends and 
 -L allies in the morning, as Tom Scarlet and perhaps the 
 Frenchmen expected he would do, Sassafras remained in camp 
 all day, chiefly devoting himself to the exercise, grooming and 
 feeding of the gray mare Virginia, and the bay horse, the 
 Young Chief. The negroes slept for the most part. The 
 Frenchmen smoked much, and cleaned their guns and pistols. 
 The Englishman walked uneasily about, with a dejected air. 
 The region in which he now was seemed even more wild and 
 threatening than the melancholy expanse of the great prairies 
 itself The hills were rocky, broken and uncouth, and to the 
 southeast were dominated by higher hills, where huge preci- 
 pices might be perceived, frowning over chasms which broke 
 the forest with which the hills were mainly clothed. At that 
 day those parts were seldom visited by white men. The passes 
 in the mountains were known to but few, and these were 
 mostly adventurers of the stamp of Sassafras and his French 
 companions. Time has changed all that. This region has 
 become common enough, like other tracts which were savage 
 and remote two score years ago. Commerce, the pursuit of 
 mining, and the desire of exploration penetrate everywhere, 
 and when foiled return again and again. 
 
 "The Hyrcanian deserts, and the vasty wilds 
 Of wide Arabia, are but as thoroughfares now !" 
 
 In the evening Sassafras left his camp in the charge of 
 Jules, and set out with Tom Scarlet and Francois upon a pro- 
 jected expedition. Perhaps he had thought it best to appear 
 in no hurry ; perhaps he knew that he would not be expected 
 at the Indian camp until night had set in. However this 
 may be, the sun had set when he mounted his horse and rode 
 
132 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 briskly away to the southeast. The moon had just risen over 
 the eastern highlands when they turned towards the wooded 
 slope, and rode cautiously up it. The night was still and 
 calm, the air and earth fresh from the recent rain. As they 
 reached the highest point of the ridge, and the glimmer of 
 fires, in a sheltered, grassy bottom below, was visible through 
 the brush, the figure of an Indian rose from the grass. He 
 appeared so silently and suddenly that Tom Scarlet uttered a 
 startled exclamation. The man was naked to the waist, for 
 the blanket belted around him had fallen from his shoulders, 
 and he held a rifle in his hand. He spoke a few words in an 
 Indian tongue, with a sign to Sassafras to follow him a little 
 apart. He was tall, straight and well-built, but not stout. 
 The shade of his complexion could not be determined by that 
 uncertain light, but it was dark even for a native of the west- 
 ern wilds ; in fact, its hue was a rich brown, befitting one who 
 lived, like the eagle, "close to the sun, in lonely lands." His 
 manner was grave and collected, and he was, indeed. Cinna- 
 mon, a young but famous chief, renowned from the Rocky 
 Mountains to the settlements of the whites for his success in 
 hunting and his exploits in war. 
 
 After a short conversation between him and Sassafras, they 
 returned to the others, and the chief bade Tom Scarlet wel- 
 come in a few words of broken English. He seemed to speak 
 it with difficulty and unwillingly, for he addressed the French- 
 man in the Indian tongue. Cinnamon then led the way 
 towards the camp of his people, who were soon seen sitting 
 and reclining round the fires in the valley below. The wild 
 appearance of the Indians, seen by the red glare of blazing 
 logs and brush, with their picketed horses and rude tents, mere 
 blankets and skins on sticks, was strange and striking to the 
 Englishman. Sassafras and Francois had no doubt seen the 
 like of it many times before, for they followed the chief down 
 into the valley without pause or remark. Cinnamon passed 
 on to the fire in front of his own scanty tent, around which 
 was a group of his young men. The Indians appeared to 
 know Sassafras well, for they came up one after the other and 
 greeted him in a few words, their gaze being meanwhile fixed 
 upon the ornament of a horse's head, cunningly carved in red 
 stone, which he now wore upon his breast. The costume of 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 133 
 
 the Cheyeunes was sparse to a degree, consisting mainly of 
 moccasins and leggings, with here and there a scrap of blanket. 
 But if their wardrobe was scanty, there was no lack of rude 
 ornament among Cinnamon's men ; and the glare of the fire 
 showed a profusion of paint upon their faces and bodies. 
 Their heads were uncovered save by their shaggy black hair, 
 with which were intermixed the plumes of eagles, hawks and 
 perhaps other birds of prey. One figure there was whose out- 
 fit presented a striking contrast to those of the chief and his 
 men. It was that of a youth of perhaps seventeen years old. 
 His form was handsome, and his features may have been good, 
 but they were obscured by much paint. He wore scarlet leg- 
 gings, with a sort of tunic of the same color, belted at the 
 waist. A white blanket, trimmed with scarlet, lay across his 
 shoulder in the manner of a Highland plaid. Braid and 
 trinkets were plentifully disposed over his apparel ; his hair 
 was plaited, twisted round the top of his head, like a coronet, 
 and bedecked with eagles' plumes. Upon this boy the gaze 
 of Sassafras was soon fixed. The lad returned it with a 
 haughty air, and then seemed to be wholly interested with 
 the appearance of Tom Scarlet. He stood aloof. At the 
 earliest opportunity. Sassafras addressed the chief. 
 
 " Cinnamon," said he, in a low voice, " you have a stranger 
 in the band — one of another tribe. Who and what is he that 
 my friend has brought here?" 
 
 " Indian from the southwest. Young Kiowa, son of a great 
 chief I have sometimes hunted with," replied the Cheyenne. 
 
 Then seeing that Sassafras was hardly content, he added : 
 
 " Brought here from down the great river by my brother. 
 I will answer for the boy." 
 
 " Very good," said Sassafras. " And so your brother has 
 come up from his plantation, has he ?" 
 
 " He has," replied the Indian. 
 
 Cinnamon's brother was, in fact, an elder half-brother, being 
 a son of his mother and a wealthy French trader. He was 
 settled on a plantation near the mouth of the Arkansas river, 
 but sometimes made trips to its upper waters, where, as Sassa- 
 fras knew, he might often meet roving bands of the great pred- 
 atory tribes of the southwest branches of the Arkansas, the 
 Kiowas and the Comanches. This brother of the chief, being 
 
134 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 a man of substance, liberality and enterprise, as well as of 
 part Indian blood, had reputation and influence with many 
 bands and tribes. A conversation, weighty in matter, but com- 
 paratively brief, eusued between Sassafras and Cinnamon, at 
 the close of which the former rejoined Tom Bcarlet and 
 Frau9ois. The wary Western man threw a keen glance around 
 before he recited to Tom Scarlet in English what had passed 
 between himself and the chief. A discussion followed, in 
 which Sassafras became earnest, and enforced his view of the 
 case with a louder voice and much force. When he finished 
 and looked up, he was surprised to find the painted Kiowa 
 near at hand. He seemed, however, to be lost in revery, 
 thinking of things and scenes far away, for his piercing eye 
 appeared to look beyond the fires and tents and figures of the 
 camp, and to penetrate the darkness which hung heavy on the 
 hills and woods around. And yet Sassafras was not altogether 
 satisfied. As he threw himself upon a pile of brush, pipe in 
 mouth, and weighty thought in brain, he muttered : 
 
 " Cinnamon will answer for the boy. Cinnamon is good, but 
 the boy is none of his tribe, and has been with him but a few 
 days. Safe bind, safe find ! Fran§ois shall watch him !" 
 
 Almost worn out by the fatigue of the last sleepless night, 
 and by the anxiety of the day just past, the Englishman, in 
 spite of the novelty of his situation, soon slumbered heavily by 
 the side of the Western man. When he was fast asleep the 
 latter drew a blanket carefully over him, and sat some time in 
 thought. He then aroused Franyois, and led him to the verge 
 of the valley, where they sat down on an old log. The camp 
 was nearly still, the moonlight mingling its white rays with 
 the fitful, dying glare of the fading fires. An Indian, how- 
 ever, might now and then be seen stalking out of the shade 
 of a pile of brush or a clump of bushes, and getting a brand 
 to light his pipe. The horses had eaten their fill of the fresh 
 grass of the valley, and lay here and there all around the 
 camp. At times the hoot of the owl was heard from the timber 
 of the hill above, and the long howl of the wolf resounded 
 from the ravines. The Frenchman filled his pipe with much 
 deliberation, and having lighted it, signified by an inclination 
 of his head that he was ready to hear what Sassafras might 
 have to communicate. The latter, looking around cautiously, 
 spoke in a low voice. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 135 
 
 « Fran9ois, there is a boy in there," pointing to the tent of 
 the chief, " for whose presence here I can't account. You, no 
 doubt, saw him when we first arrived, if not since." 
 
 " I did, and I cannot make him out any better than your- 
 self," replied the Frenchman. " I asked one of the Cheyennes 
 if he was of their tribe. He said no, but partly of their blood, 
 being a son of Cinnamon's half-brother, Pierre Langlois. 
 Pierre is now at the trading post, and having brought up his 
 son from below, has suffered him to join his uncle in camp 
 here." 
 
 " That cock cannot fight in this main," said Sassafras, 
 quickly. " The story don't agree at all with what Cinnamon 
 told me two hours ago. He says that lad is the son of a chief 
 of the Kiowas, intrusted to Pierre Langlois by his father, when 
 he was up in the mountains near the head-waters of the 
 Arkansas, over towards the Spanish line." 
 
 " It may be so and the Indian not know it," said Franyois. 
 
 " Devil a bit !" said Sassafras. " If the boy was a Kiowa 
 every ludian in this camp would know it. You've seen Kiowas 
 — did you ever see one painted like this boy?" 
 
 « I have seen their warriors — this lad is none." 
 
 " Ay, but he's of age to be a warrior," returned Sassafras. 
 « Besides, though he looks a little like a dandy Indian, he 
 don't walk like an Indian ; and his blanket and other fixings 
 ain't a month okl, instead of being five or six." 
 
 " Sassafras, we have always said that you were the keenest 
 man on the frontier, and you are," said Frangois, " but I think 
 you take too much note of this lad." 
 
 "It may be so," replied Sassafras, "but I tell you I have 
 got no use for that boy here until I know more about him." 
 
 " And this may make trouble, as he is with Cinnamon him- 
 self," said Francois. "You don't doubt the chief?" 
 
 " Surely not, for I wear this, won by his side in a hard- 
 fought tussle with the Sioux," said Sassafras, laying his hand 
 on the ornament which hung upon his breast. " But you see 
 this stripling is really as little knpwn to Cinnamon as he is to 
 you and me. The chief may be imposed upon. Pierre Lang- 
 lois brings the boy here from a quarter whence I expect an 
 enemy, and he is a neighbor of Staples," 
 
 " Yes, but hates him worse than he hates a snake — I know 
 it well," said Francois. 
 
136 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " For the matter of that, everybody hates him that ever had 
 anything to do with him," said Sassafras ; " but he manages 
 to get many to go in with him for all that. But no matter ! 
 I spoke to this bedizened boy in as good Indian as I could 
 muster for the occasion, and no answer did I get." 
 
 '' Well, he may not understand Cheyenne," said Fran9ois. 
 
 " Then I want to know how he understands Cinnamon, who 
 can speak but precious little else, though he can understand 
 my English," remarked Sassafras, with a little impatience. 
 
 " There's some difference between Cinnamon's Cheyenne and 
 yours," said Franyois, with a smile. " Of all the people that 
 have to do with the Indians, you and the English speak their 
 tongues the worst. Kow, we French and the Spanish of Mexico 
 soon learn to speak them well. That is, well for white men." 
 
 " You may speak them as w^ell as you like, but d — n me if I 
 think you can make this boy understand Indian of any sort. 
 What do you say to that, now ?" said Sassafras, with some 
 heat. 
 
 " I don't know. To-morrow I'll try him with French, and 
 with as good Kiowa and Comanche as I can command. If 
 those fail, I'll at him in Spanish ; for I'll bet a horn of powder 
 he's Spanish if he's no Indian. His eyes and his hair show 
 it, as well as the small size of his hands and feet." 
 
 " Do so, Fran9ois ; and watch him narrowly, without letting 
 him know that you are doing so. You can stay here on some 
 pretence, when I have gone back to our camp. AVe shall not 
 move to the post for some days. I must give Virginia and 
 the Young Chief work — sharp w^ork." 
 
 " Good ! the boy will be more off his guard, if he is now on 
 it, when you have left the band again," said Frangois. " If 
 I can find out nothing from him, we must wait until we see 
 Pierre. Pierre is a talkative as well as a prosperous man, and 
 by getting him to drink three or four times I can learn almost 
 all he knows." After a pause of a minute or so he added : 
 " But as you know the chief to be true, why trouble yourself 
 about this youngster? What can the boy do ?" 
 
 " Why, no harm that I can see, just at present," replied 
 Sassafras ; " but the minute I laid eyes upon this gay bird it 
 struck me that he was not what he seemed. When I find a 
 blind at the beginning of a trail, I am never satisfied until I 
 know what is at the other end." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 137 
 
 " There's wisdom in that, and ^Ye will try to find out," re- 
 turned Frau9ois. 
 
 " One thing made me more suspicious than almost all that 
 I have mentioned," said Sassafras, earnestly. " I noticed that 
 when we came into camp to-night with Cinnamon, this boy 
 looked straight at Tom Scarlet and gave you and me but just 
 a glance. Now, I say that's not natural, if the boy is Indian, 
 or even half or quarter blood, through Pierre Langlois. 
 Would a young Kiowa, from the plains and mountains of the 
 Southwest, take more note of a green Englishman than of 
 men like you and me, Fran9ois ?" 
 
 " Hardly ! though the Englishman is a fine-looking young 
 man, a very fine-looking young man," replied Francois. 
 
 " I grant it — much better looking than you or I, so far as 
 mere form and features go," said Sassafras ; " but don't you 
 see, he has none of the air and carriage of the West — of men 
 who have hunted many a year, and fought in many a scrim- 
 mage — and I tell you that's what would have fixed the eye of 
 this youngster, if he had been the son of a chief of the war- 
 like Kiowas." 
 
 The Frenchman silently assented to this by an inclination 
 of his head, and Sassafras went on : 
 
 " As for our mate from the island over the sea, he needs 
 vigilant as well as staunch friends here. Good man, brave 
 and true, he is no doubt in his own country ; but here, Fran- 
 9ois, he is little more than a baby — no experience, you see — 
 and a self-willed and obstinate baby at that. Why, he sticks 
 out for honesty and what he calls fair play, and what not, in 
 our dealings with the men we must circumvent. As if hon- 
 esty was of any use against Staples, three or four hundred 
 miles west of the Mississippi river !" 
 
 The Frenchman nodded acquiescence once more, and Sassa- 
 fras went on : 
 
 " If there was no one but you and Jules and me concerned, 
 it would be different, and I should be less alert, knowing we 
 could hold our own, whatever might turn up trumps. I never 
 told you before the exact state of affairs. It is this : The man 
 who stole the best horse in England, or one about as good as 
 any, and a lot of money, from Tom Scarlet, will be at the post 
 with Staples. My business is to make him fork over, one way 
 or another. Do you see?" 
 
138 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " I see well enough — go on," said Fran9ois. 
 
 " The fellow ran away with a lot of money belonging to 
 other people, too ; but that don't concern us," said Sassafras. 
 He then continued, speaking very earnestly: "I met this 
 young fellow, Tom, at Baltimore, as soon as he landed, and 
 struck hands with hira. I have brought him all this way 
 west, and I'm bound to stick to him, come what may. ' He's 
 here in double trust,' as Macbeth says of Duncan ; for he has 
 confided in me, and I like the man himself, Franyois ; while 
 his talks of the girl he left behind him have made me like her, 
 too. I swear I'm almost in love with her myself" 
 
 " And good reason," said the Frenchman. " I, too, have 
 heard him talk of her, and, my faith ! it reminded me of the 
 little girl I was to marry tw^enty years ago, when we used to 
 dance under the trees on the bank of the big river, half 
 through the summer nights. But Louise died in her spring 
 time, you see." 
 
 " Well, my true and trusty friend, remember to look close 
 after that boy. Find out something about him somehow, and 
 then ride straight over to our own camp. Now, we'll lie down 
 and sleep, as well here as anywhere about, for the night is 
 warm." 
 
 Midnight was some time past, and the dark, dead hour had 
 come which precedes the first faint tinge of dawn. The camp 
 was as still as though no living thing was in it. No breeze 
 sighed among the branches of the lofty trees, and the moon 
 had gone down over the vast silent prairie to the west, leaving 
 the valley to the little light afforded by wasted brands of the 
 waning fires among their own ashes. It was the time of 
 night — 
 
 ** When the graves, all gaping wide, 
 
 Every one lets forth his sprite, 
 In the churchway paths to glide ; 
 
 And the fairies, that do run. 
 By the triple Hecate's team, 
 
 From the presence of the sun, 
 Follow darkness like a dream." 
 
 The deep, solemn sleep, so like pale death itself, into which 
 Tom Scarlet had first fallen, was now changed into uneasy 
 slumbers and swift-changing dreams. His home across the 
 Atlantic, the scenes of his boyhood, the favorite haunts of her 
 he loved, and many incidents of his life, long forgotten, flew 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 139 
 
 through the chambers of the brain, faster than the sunbeam 
 which chases night's black shadow round the revolving world. 
 More uneasy the sleeper grew, for the sombre shadow of his 
 brother's death, jand the white face, upturned to the pale blue 
 wintry sky, were again before him. Again he felt the stun- 
 ning horrors of the gale which smote the brig, and almost 
 overwhelmed her in the waves of the Atlantic. The fierce 
 hissing scream of the wind ; the thunder-clap of the topsail, 
 when its chain-sheets parted and flew loose aloft ; the calls of 
 the captain and mate ; the hoarse cries of the sailors ; and 
 the tumult of the raging waters, rang in his ears again. Then 
 the noises subsided into the merry echoes of the village feast 
 at eventide, and the rustle of summer winds among the haw- 
 thorn and the gorse. And then came music, to a soft air, and 
 low, as of the hum of honey-bees about the fresh June flowers. 
 After a space this was shaped into words, and the man, in the 
 mysterious debatable land which lies between dead sleep and 
 wakefulness, heard the following, like a faint but distinct and 
 clear echo : 
 
 High the hawks fly in the dappled sky, 
 
 And over the blackthorn stream 
 The partridge knows, while swift she goes, 
 
 They float on the morning beam. 
 A maiden bright, at their foremost flight, 
 
 Says, " Well ! ah, well-a-day !" 
 The Scarlet and Gold, so lithe and bold. 
 
 Is over the seas away ! 
 
 Early and late, near the garden gate. 
 
 The linnets sing love's song ; 
 The sparrows hatch in the old barn thatch, 
 
 And the ploughmen plod along; 
 And at morn and night the maid so bright 
 
 Says, " Well ! ah, well-a-day \" 
 The Scarlet and Gold, so lithe and bold. 
 
 Is over the seas away ! 
 
 There's a yeoman tried at Hawk' ell side 
 
 In all the tales they tell, 
 And the hunting mare is grazing there, 
 
 In the paddock by the well. 
 The throstle's note, from his golden throat, 
 
 And the blackbirds seem to say, 
 The Scarlet and Gold, so lithe and bold, 
 
 Is over the seas away ! 
 
 The hawks fly, too, and the wolves pursue 
 
 Where the wild buck leaps for life — 
 ! the beak and claw of the border law 
 
 Are the tomahawk and knife. 
 
140 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 Will the maid once gay e'er see the day 
 
 When the sun shall clear the wrack? 
 Will the Scarlet and Gold, so lithe and bold, 
 
 O'er the racing seas go back? 
 
 From first to last, while this strange chaunt was going on, 
 the young man lay like one in a trance. Conscious he was, 
 but partly unable aiKl partly unwilling to stir and break the 
 spell of the voice. When the song was finished he lay for the 
 space of a minute. Then he rose and looked about him with 
 a bewildered air. No one was in sight. He felt for Sassafras ; 
 but the Western man had long left that couch, and was now 
 fast asleep with Francois upon the outer verge of the camp. 
 
 " This is like witchery," said Tom. " I must have been awake 
 — somebody must have sung. It can't be Sassafras, for his 
 voice is not so tuneful. It can't have been an Indian, for no 
 Indian could master the words, to say nothing of the harmony. 
 Can it have been Fran9ois ? I'll tax him with it in the 
 morning." 
 
 Morning was now near. The sky was steel-gray in the 
 eastern board, and soon one after another of the horses rose 
 and shook his lariat. Tom Scarlet had no opportunity of 
 speaking to Francois, for when the time came for the white 
 men to return to their own camp the Frenchman was not to 
 be found. An Indian briefly stated that he had gone, with 
 two of the young men, to hunt the elk, which were to be found 
 in the neighboring hills. Sassafras remarked that he could 
 not wait, and bidding farewell, for the present, to Cinnamon 
 and his braves, he and Tom Scarlet put boot in stirrup and 
 rode away. The young Kiowa was not to be seen. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 " Good people all, I pray give ear, 
 And a doleful story you shall hear; 
 'Tis of as stout a rogue as ever 
 Bade a true man stand and deliver. 
 
 ABOUT two weeks had elapsed since the meeting between 
 Sassafras and Cinnamon, and both had moved their camps 
 to the near vicinity of the trading-post. The interval had 
 been mainly spent by the former and Tom Scarlet in training 
 
THE WRITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 141 
 
 Virginia and the Young Cliief for the races they expected. 
 The Indians had parsed their time in hunting excursions, and 
 in much eating and sleeping. Game was abundant. The 
 young men brought in elk and deer. Franyois and Jules shot 
 many turkeys. The former found no opportunity to sound 
 the young Kiowa, for when he returned from his first hunt 
 the youth had left Cinnamon, and the Frenchman was told 
 that he had returned to Pierre Langlois at the post. Nor was 
 he to be seen at that place when Sassafras reached it ; and 
 Cinnamon then said that he was gone on a hunt with some of 
 his young men. The Western man was too much occupied 
 with his horses and in settling the preliminaries of a race or 
 two with his old antagonist, Captain Staples, to make further 
 quest just then. 
 
 The trading-post alluded to was situated among the hills, 
 but on a flat prairie some two miles long and a mile and a 
 half wide. The hills were bold but not high, and bushy val- 
 leys ran up between them from the open ground. The grass 
 of the prairie was short, more like that of a meadow in the 
 valley of the Ohio than the coarse but nutritious buffalo grass 
 upon wdiich herds of bisons fed on the great plains further 
 west. Often camped upon, trampled, and fed off close, it had 
 lost much of its wild character, and become tame pasture. 
 This change had, perhaps, been aided by the mixture of other 
 grasses, from seed which had been scattered by such wayfarers 
 as Sassafras and Staples at their periodical visits. The main 
 structure was a square log-building, standing on the north side 
 of the prairie. It was of considerable extent, part being used 
 as a depot for the goods of the company who were the nomi- 
 nal owners of the land, and part for the residence of their 
 factor and his men. On each side of it, at the distance of a 
 few rods, there were shanties of slight poles, roofed with bark ; 
 while in some of the valleys between the hills, rude log-houses 
 had been built at some time, which could be hastily repaired. 
 The prairie sloped very gradually inward to a slough or 
 pond, in which there was nearly always tolerable water. It 
 was fringed with low bushes of cottonwood and alder, and the 
 surface of the water was overgrown with lilies then in flower. 
 A rude sort of race-course, called a mile, but probably more, 
 for the vast ranges of the Western country belittled measured 
 
142 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 spaces in the eyes of the adventurers who had laid it out, 
 and now resorted to it, ran around the pond. It had once 
 been ploughed up and harrowed by the men of the post, who, 
 cultivating a few acres of corn and potatoes, had the imple- 
 ments of simple husbandry ; but it was now overgrown with 
 short grass, very good to gallop over. At the foot of the hills, 
 in various places, small bands of Indians were encamped. In 
 some of the shanties near the main building there were a few 
 W'hite men, with blood-like horses and negroes. The traders 
 had done a good business with the Indians, considering the 
 rate of profit, buying buffalo robes, skins and furs for next to 
 nothing, in whiskey, powder, lead and blankets. The Chey- 
 ennes of Cinnamon's band had bartered away in this manner 
 the furs and skins they had brought on the backs of their 
 horses. For two or three days there was high revelry, and 
 some danger of an outbreak and resort to arms between them 
 and some of the other bands. But it was prevented by the 
 vigilance of their chief. Cinnamon had pitched his camp in 
 the bight of a narrow valley, between two of the largest hills 
 on the south side. Further on it opened out and became the 
 bottom lands of a creek, one of the head-waters of the Neosho, 
 which is itself, in turn, one of the almost innumerable streams 
 which contribute to the volume of the Arkansas without ap- 
 parently increasing it. Such is the thirsty nature of the soil, 
 and so great the evaporation in summer time, that the river is 
 nearly as large five hundred miles from its mouth as it is 
 within sight of the Mississippi, into which it falls. In the 
 next little valley on the south side lay the camp of Sassafras; 
 but this was a mere branch of the prairie, running up into the 
 wooded hills, but not piercing them through. It had good 
 grass and fine water. A living spring, small but constant, 
 gushed out at the foot of a lofty rock near the head of it. 
 Pierre Langlois, a small partner in the trading company, 
 lodged in the post. The young Kiowa may have been there 
 also, but if so he kept very secluded, and made no visits to 
 Cinnamon's camp. 
 
 It was the evening of the fourth day after the arrival of 
 Sassafras at the post, and he sat at the entrance of his log-hut, 
 expecting a visitor. He had not long to wait after he had 
 sent the Frenchman and Tom Scarlet away, for the man soon 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 143 
 
 approached, and addressed him ^vith a familiar air. He mio;ht 
 be nearly sixty years old, and much weather-beaten, but plainly 
 very tough and vigorous for his years. He was not tall and 
 sparse, as most white men in that region were, but below the 
 middle height, with a broad, deep chest, and massive, round 
 shoulders. His dark hair was shaggy, and a little sprinkled 
 with gray. His eye was red and lowering, like that of a sulky 
 bull, and upon his face there were the scars of several wounds. 
 Such, in appearance, was the redoubtable Captain Staples, a 
 man of uncommon shrewdness and cunning ; bold and unscru- 
 pulous to the last degree. Subject to the laws of Arkansas 
 when within her boundaries, and to those of the Federal Gov- 
 ernment when to the westward, he had, to use his own expres- 
 sion, no use for either of them. 
 
 " For why ? The good old rule 
 SuflBced him; the simple plan 
 That they should take who had the power. 
 And they shall keep who can." 
 
 Sassafras preceded the captain into the shanty, and without 
 much ado they sat down facing each other, with a barrel be- 
 tween them, which served the purpose of a table. A stone jug, 
 and a tin cup, were soon put in requisition, and they each 
 took a drink of whiskey. Sassafras lighted his pipe, while the 
 captain renewed the enormous quid of negro-head tobacco, 
 which he had removed when he drank. With some people 
 Captain Staples enjoyed a reputation which was very rare in 
 the West and Southwest in those days. It was thought that 
 he drank no liquor. This was an error ; he drank none in 
 company, save when the latter was very select, but a great 
 deal in private. Why he had adopted such a rule nobody 
 knew. It could not be because he was afraid of being over- 
 reached in his dealings, if he drank in the rude society to 
 which he was accustomed, for liquor had no effect upon his 
 muscles and nerves, and abated none of his singular resolution 
 and craft. A town pump might have been made drunk as 
 soon as he. He was now, however, aware that by pretending 
 he never drank he should merely excite the disgust of Sassafras, 
 which might have interfered with the object he had in view. 
 Therefore, the worthy captain tossed off about a third of a pint 
 of whiskey, and praised the quality of the licjuor. The two 
 
144 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 meu looked each other full in the eye for a few moments. The 
 captain then placed his hands squarely on his brawny thighs, 
 and said : 
 
 " Sassafras, we have been acquainted a long time ; I believe 
 we know each other pretty well." 
 
 " I shouldn't wonder if we do," returned Sassafras. " It 
 ain't beeu your fault, if I don't know you." 
 
 " No, it has not ! And yet I believe you don't know rae 
 through and through, Sassafras," said the captain, with much 
 complaisance. " The fact is," he added, " there have been at 
 times words between us, and perhaps hard feelings on your 
 part. Now, in spite of all that, I have always had the highest 
 opinion of you, and am the best friend you've got, from the 
 Missouri to the Red river. I think you didn't know this," 
 concluded the captain, coolly. 
 
 " I'm d — d if I did, until you told me !" said Sassafras, pour- 
 ing out more liquor, and handing it to his best friend to drink 
 first. 
 
 " Well, you know it now. Here's to you. Sassafras," said 
 the captain, drinking with a relish. " Tlie last time we raced 
 against each other, I beat you stop ! hear me out ! Some- 
 thing was said at the time ; but if anything was done wrong, 
 it was without my knowledge and against my wish. That's 
 what it was. You've got the gray mare here now, and she'll 
 beat me." 
 
 " I don't intend to let her be dosed before she starts," said 
 Sassafras, bluntly. 
 
 The old man was unmoved. " That's right," said he. " It's 
 always well to look out. There's generally a lot of loafing 
 fellows and half-breeds hanging about these posts, and they'll 
 do anything for a few Mexican dollars and a jug of whiskey. 
 I see you've got the mare in good condition, and she's sure to 
 win." 
 
 " Well, you haven't come here a-purpose to tell me that ?" 
 said Sassafras. " Come, now ! Why did you ask me to send 
 my men away, and meet you here alone soon after sundown ? 
 It isn't your way to take much trouble for nothing, captain.'* 
 
 "It is not. You're quite right. Sassafras. I meant, by 
 coming, to do you some good. That ain't nothing." 
 
 " How much good, in regard to what good you mean to do 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 145 
 
 yourself?" said Sassafras, knocking the ashes out of his pipe 
 preparatory to filling it again. He probably thought that this 
 question would lead to an explanation from the captain, and 
 he was not wrong. 
 
 The fine old gentleman gave his quid a twist, and said : 
 
 " Sassafras, I've got a betting man up here with me, a gen- 
 tleman — an English gentleman — a man with plenty of know- 
 ledge and plenty of money. Now, this gentleman is inclined 
 to lay some of his money against your mare. He'll do so, if 
 I let him alone ; and 1, out of friendship for you, feel inclined 
 to let you win some of his sovereigns. In short, we could go 
 halves, you know." 
 
 " But why don't you let Keeps or Kirby lay against him for 
 you, and go it all yourself?" said Sassafras. 
 
 " It don't suit me to trust Keeps or Kirby," said the captain. 
 " Besides, they are greedy and unprincipled, and have a han- 
 kering after the gentleman's money themselves. You'd hardly 
 believe it, but it's been all I could do to prevent Kirby and 
 Keeps, especially Keeps, from cheating the gentleman at poker. 
 I declare to you that these fellows had a cold deck all ready, 
 and would have got his money out of him by downright cheatr 
 ing. That, you know, I could not stand." 
 
 " Of course not," returned Sassafras ; " the money is not for 
 them. They might as well undertake to rob you at once. 
 You have a large interest in this English gentleman." 
 
 " I think I have," said the captain. " I reckon it is a large 
 interest, present and contingent." 
 
 " And in order to make pretty sure of the contingent interest 
 you are willing to share the present interest with me. Ain't 
 that it ?" 
 
 " I don't think it is altogether," said the captain. " Of the 
 bets we win on the first race you shall have half. But after 
 that com.es the heft of the undertaking. Listen now, for I 
 mean real business. It won't do to cut deep at first for fear 
 of exciting the gentleman's suspicions. He's a very nice man 
 — fine specimen of what I've heard a good deal about in my 
 time, the English gentleman. But I can't say that I find him 
 quite perfect Sassafras, he's mistrustful of most people, and 
 I sometimes think that he suspects even me." 
 
 " O, the villain I" cried Sassafras. " What's his name, and 
 10 
 
146 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 what brouglit him here, so far from the settlements ? Come, 
 tell us a little about the stranger." 
 
 " His name is Reginald Grosvernor," replied the captain, 
 with readiness and composure. " That's his private travelling 
 name." 
 
 " He's got two or three, has he ? Staples, I think you had 
 better begin to suspect Mm, and not make sure of your buck 
 while he's running in the woods." 
 
 " That's all right ! you leave that to me," replied the cap- 
 tain confidently, " This gentleman is a kind of lord, what 
 you call viscount, but has dropped the title for a time, which 
 is right and proper, being on a tour in this land of republican 
 liberty and free institutions, where titles " 
 
 " That'll do ! I've heard enough about that. You ain't on 
 the stump addressing the people down the river. Come to this 
 business. What brought this stranger to these parts ?" 
 
 "Friendship, and a desire to see the world," replied the 
 captain. " He was on his travels, and I brought him here, 
 where he can see the works of natur' on a stupendious scale." 
 
 Sassafras was about to interrupt him, when the captain 
 changed his tone, and continued. 
 
 " He is owmer of a plantation in the West Indies and mines 
 on the Spanish Main. Having been to visit those properties, 
 he came back by way of the Crooked Island Passage. You 
 don't know where that is, but I do, having been on an expedi- 
 tion to an island thereabouts, on which the buccaneers buried 
 a mighty treasure. Lord ! Sassafras, if we could only find it ! 
 Well, he lands in Cuba, and comes on to Orleans, to make a 
 tour in this country before he goes home." 
 
 " Then your contingent interest is in the sugar plantation 
 and the " 
 
 " Coffee— coffee plantation, Sassafras! It's coffee grounds 
 he owns, and the quality of the berry is beautiful. He brought 
 a sample and we tried it at Orleans. He had offers for the 
 crop, but had contracted it in England." 
 
 " Well, coffee, then. The contingent interest is in the 
 coffee plantation and the mines on the Spanish Main, is it?" 
 said Sassafras. 
 
 " No," replied the captain. " If it was it would not be easy 
 to realize it. It is in certain money he has deposited in the 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 147 
 
 Bank of Louisiana. I tell you this because I feel certain you'll 
 want to know what induces me to divide with you in the mattter 
 of the ready money." 
 
 " All right. I don't care a picayune what the contingency 
 is in. That's your affair. The present interest in the ready 
 money is to be equally divided between us, when we have 
 bagged it." 
 
 " No, it ain't ; only the money won on the first race is to be 
 divided that way. When we come to the main stakes, I must 
 have two-thirds," said the captain. 
 
 " Then I can tell you," said Sassafras, decisively, " that your 
 interest, present and prospective, is worth just about as much 
 as a share in the treasure buried by the buccaneers on the 
 island near the Grand Cayman. I know what that's worth. 
 Man alive ! I've been there, too. Do you think that I, who 
 must be the actual winner of the money, am to be put off with 
 less than half?" 
 
 « Not so loud ! Hear reason, and don't be hasty. If you 
 have a fault. Sassafras, it is going off at half-cock. Listen to 
 me — not a dollar of Ja — of Mr. Grosvernor's money can be 
 handled except through me. Not a dollar ! If you agree to 
 that which I propose, your third, with the half of the first 
 winnings, will amount to five hundred guineas — five hundred 
 guineas !" the old man repeated with slow and round emphasis. 
 
 " Your'n will amount to about a thousand," said Sassafras, 
 curtly. 
 
 " Ay ; but I must give Kirby and Keeps each a share, recol- 
 lect that. Besides, consider the risk and unpleasantness of 
 taking the gentleman down the river broke. That will fall 
 on me, while you will go north to St. Jo., as rich as a Jew 
 and happy as a king. I wish I was in your place and you 
 were in mine, I do," said the captain. 
 
 " Now, look here," said Sassafras, " the contingent interest 
 will pay well for taking the man down the river. If it 
 wouldn't, you w^ould leave him to get down as he might. As 
 to Kirby and Keeps, you won't give 'em more than t\YO hun- 
 dred silver dollars a-piece, when you strike the Arkansas, and 
 you'll win that back before they see Little Kock. They won't 
 ring in any cold decks on you." 
 
 " I don't think they will," said the captain, dryly. " But 
 
148 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 consideriog that I have in a manner got this money already 
 in hand, and that the five hundred guineas will be the same 
 as a gift to you, don't you think that you are in conscience 
 and duty bound to be content with one-third of the main 
 stakes ?" 
 
 " No, I don't. I must have half or as good as half," replied 
 Sassafras. " I'll take the Englishman's white stud, and allow 
 two hundred dollars for him in the settlement between you 
 and me." 
 
 "Two hundred ! he thinks him worth two thousand," said 
 the captain. " But never mind his horse for the present. The 
 thing to go for first is his money. Since we are old friends, and 
 I may never have such another opportunity to oblige a friend, 
 I will agree that you shall have four hundred dollars out of 
 every thousand won by us from Grosvernor after the first 
 race — there !" he exclaimed, as if amazed at his own gener- 
 osity. " Your shares together wdll reach eight hundred guin- 
 eas — eight hundred guineas !" he repeated, slowly, and with 
 round, dwelling emphasis. "There ain't another man west 
 of the Mississippi that I would do it for." 
 
 " No, nor east of it either," said Sassafras ; " but suppose I 
 should come into your plan on these terms, how is it to be 
 carried out?" 
 
 " You say agreed, I'll find the way ; and after the little busi- 
 ness of the first race, we'll go for blood — meaning big money, 
 you know\" 
 
 " Very well ! I say agreed. Now let's hear how this man 
 is to be corralled in, so that he'll lay pretty nigh two thou- 
 sand guineas on a second race, after having lost on the first. 
 He isn't altogether a fool in such matters, I suppose !" 
 
 " A fool ! oh, no ! he knows more about such matters than 
 you and I put together. The Derby, the Leger, Newmarket, 
 and what not — he knows it all. Sassafras ; knows it all !" said 
 the old gentleman, with a chuckle. " I said he was suspicious ; 
 he's conceited as well, and reckons his own judgment better 
 than mine. He contradicts my opinions, and rejects my advice 
 — thinks very little of it, and will think less, when the first 
 race is over. Now," continued the captain, leaning forward 
 over the barrel, in such a manner as to endanger the whiskey 
 jug, which Sassafras thereupon removed, " after your mare has 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO X. 149 
 
 beat my horse in the match now made, we can make another. 
 He'll back your mare at strong odds, and all we have to do is 
 to stretch out our hands and grasp 'em !" 
 
 "We shall never grasp them in that way," said Sassafras. 
 " The plan won't work. The Indians will back the mare, and 
 I daren't pull her. There was nearly a bloody fight when Vir- 
 ginia was beat by you last year." 
 
 " Kever mind their small amount of silver — we can make it 
 up to them through the traders." 
 
 " Ay ! but we had better mind their lead. The end of it 
 might be a bullet in my head and another in yours, and what 
 would be the use of the Englishman's gold then? The thing 
 would be too plain. Staples. If it was the Englishman's white 
 stud now that run against her, he might win. He's a very 
 fine-looking horse, and ought to beat her." 
 
 " You think he could beat her, eh ?" said the captain, with 
 another chuckle. In a moment, however, his merriment ceased, 
 and he added, " but the money couldn't be laid right in that 
 case. He conceits that horse mightily. The best way will be 
 to run my horse and let him beat Virginia. The Indians can 
 be squared, and the Cheyenne band can overawe the others. 
 The chief is your friend." 
 
 "His band couldn't overawe a marksman in a bush, and I 
 tell you that plan won't work," said Sassafras. "Besides, 
 there's a little coolness between me and Cinnamon just now, 
 caused by the interference of Pierre Langlois." 
 
 " I see ! something has been said," returned the captain. " I 
 have been all my life trying to get people to mind their own 
 business, and let that of other folks alone, but I can't effect it. 
 But now to come back to our business. Suppose you were to 
 run the Young Chief against my horse and got him beat. It's 
 true there would be no odds laid against him, and we should 
 have hard work to raise enough to stake against the English- 
 man's guineas, at even bets." 
 
 " I don't know about that. You've got some money, I've 
 got some. We reckon upon winning some on the first race. 
 And then the traders will cash a bill on Orleans for me, on 
 good security. Young Campau comes from St. Jo., and knows 
 my plantation. Still, I am of the belief that it can't be 
 worked that way, for the Young Chief is lame, and the Eng- 
 
150 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 lishman would see it with half an eye. Better leave the 
 shaping of the main matter until after the first race is run. 
 To make sure work, let the Euglishman lay plenty of money 
 on that. Meantime, I'll make his acquaintance, and don't you 
 come mixing in when we are talking together." 
 
 After Sassafras concluded, the old man sat in thought. He 
 was considering whether he could not contrive some means by 
 which Sassafras and his mare Virginia might be beaten in the 
 first race. That would have been a coup after his own heart, 
 but he could not see how he could win the money of the Eng- 
 lishman, after having deceived Sassafras, without jeopardiziug 
 his chance and contingent interest in the Bank of England 
 notes and sundry securities deposited in the Bank of Louisiana. 
 Jagger, as bold and unscrupulous, in his way, as the worthy 
 old captain himself, had led him to believe that the amount 
 was about ten times as great as it was in reality. By this 
 means he had acquired a strong influence on Staples to insure 
 his personal safety. The old man was virtually bound over 
 in the amount deposited in the bank, to bring Jagger safe 
 back to New Orleans. Moreover, the captain had a saving 
 conviction that a repetition of the strategy by which he had 
 been enabled to defeat Virginia the year before, in the Terri- 
 tory of the Cherokee Nation, would be dangerous. He rose 
 and said : 
 
 " Well, we understand each other. Don't let your mare 
 look too well, for Mr. Grosveruor will scan her general ap- 
 pearance, and if she shows racing like, may take a notion to 
 bet on her, or not bet at all." 
 
 " Leave it to me to manage his lordship on that point," said 
 Sassafras, going out with the captain. " She shall go in the 
 balance of her work in such a way, and look so queer, up to 
 within ten minutes of the start, that he'll reckon she can't beat 
 a bull." 
 
TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 151 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 "Away, and mock the time with fairest show; 
 For the false face must hide what the false heart doth know/' 
 
 TT7HEN Captain Staples and Sassafras parted after their 
 ^^ interview, the mental exclamation of each in regard to 
 the other was, " Here's a pretty rascal !" It was the more 
 emphatic on the part of Staples, who had expected Sassafras 
 to make some remonstrance before coming into the fraudulent 
 scheme by which the intended victim was to be despoiled. On 
 the other hand. Sassafras knew that Staples w^as an unscrupu- 
 lous rogue just as well before the latter unfolded his plan as 
 he did after he had announced it. The captain walked out 
 into the night, like a hardy robber, to whom darkness is a 
 familiar and welcome cloak, or a wolf who prowls, watchful 
 and confident, in his haunts of chase and prey. He had gone 
 some eight or ten rods into the prairie, when he halted, and 
 seemed to deliberate as to whether he should not return and 
 renew the conversation with his partner' in the conspiracy he 
 had planned and was bent upon carrying out. But after brooding 
 for a minute or two, he said : 
 
 " No, I'll see him no more to-night. He's so very ready to 
 go into this business that I must beware of him. The fellow 
 bears me no good will. He has threatened me once or twice. 
 He has kept up a sort of character for honesty, and all that 
 sort of thing, a good deal too expensive for my means, and for 
 that I always hated him. But see, now, how he jumps at the 
 golden bait as soon as the stakes are big enough. He's as 
 great a rogue as I am. As great did I say ? — much greater ; 
 for this money, as I look at it, is mine by a sort of right. I 
 steered it safe through New Orleans, where Jagger would not 
 have had sense enough to keep it twenty-four hours. I have 
 protected it all the way from Kirby and Keeps and others, 
 who would have got the Englishman roped in long ago. Be- 
 sides, Sassafras is a young man, without a family to provide 
 for, and with a good plantation on the Missouri, close to St. 
 
152 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 Jo. Beyond all doubt, the fellow shows himself to be a much 
 bigger rogue than I am. But I hate him now almost or quite 
 as much as I did before. He's fallen out with the Cheyenne 
 and Pierre Langlois ! That's what makes him afraid to throw 
 a race in my favor, between the gray mare and my horse. A 
 rogue, and afraid, too ! What a world it's got to be since I 
 was a boy ! I didn't think this villain would have been afraid 
 of the d — 1 himself. He's afraid of these Indians, however. 
 Now, if I could get them on my side, it would be a strong 
 stroke of policy, and might be the means, by and by, of mak- 
 ing Sassafras disgorge some of this money of mine that he 
 greedily insists upon having for his trifling share in the busi- 
 ness. How to manage it is the thing. Go to the chief in the 
 first place I can't, for he's a sulky sort of redskin, and does 
 not like me. Prejudiced by the rascal Sassafras, no doubt. 
 Pierre Langlois doesn't like me either ; but 1 can manage 
 him. Pierre's the man, and I'll go to him right away." 
 
 With this the captain strode rapidly on, passed the bushes 
 by the pond at the east end, and on up to the traders' fort, as 
 it was called. He was soon admitted, and inquiring for Lang- 
 lois, was shown into an apartment partitioned off with rough 
 boards, at one end of which were rows of sleeping-berths, like 
 those on the beam deck of a ship. Pierre Langlois, a man of 
 forty years, with the figure of an Indian and the yellowish 
 complexion of a French half-breed, was seated at a table with 
 the acquaintance of Sassafras, young Campau, whose father 
 was the principal man in the company of traders, and two 
 other men belonging to the fort. They were playing cards. 
 It is very likely that Pierre was on the winning side, and that 
 he had been taking a drink or two of the fine old whiskey in 
 the company's store, a much superior article to that sold by 
 its factors at enormous rates to the Indians and hunters who 
 were almost the sole customers at the fort, for his reception of 
 Staples was not ungracious, and in his talk with the other 
 players he was loud and voluble. There was another person 
 in the room besides those of the card party when Staples en- 
 tered, but he was so situated as to be unobserved. It was the 
 young Kiowa. He lay in one of the berths, so shaded from 
 the light and so still that the captain did not notice his pres- 
 ence. At the conclusion of the game then pending, Campau 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 153 
 
 and the other men of the fort retired from the room. Up to 
 this time the conversation between Lauglois and Staples had 
 been of that broken, interjectory order which may be held be- 
 tween the fall of cards and during the dealing of them. It 
 was not to be thought that Staples would bring on his motion, 
 m re Sassafras, while Campau was present; but now that he 
 and the other man were gone, he improved his opportunity. 
 He began by assuring his neighbor, Langlois, of his sincere 
 regard, and went on to lament that so good a man should be 
 in a difficulty with a desperate character such as Sassafras. 
 He, Staples, had had several differences with Sassafras him- 
 self, in all of which the young man had been wholly to blame. 
 Langlois might have heard of this, and of the moderation and 
 mildness by means of which Staples had avoided the shedding 
 of blood. Sassafras was quarrelsome, violent and vindictive — 
 bull-headed as an old, solitary buffalo. He had a very bitter 
 tongue ; had said hard things of him, Staples, and when a 
 man w^ould do that, what was not to be expected? He had 
 said many hard things of Langlois, and the captain was not 
 surprised at it. He then very glibly repeated some of these 
 sayings, for the information and satisfaction of the object of 
 them. There were such as Sassafras had never uttered, but 
 the captain did not invent them for the occasion. They mainly 
 consisted of what Staples himself had said of Langlois on 
 various occasions. 
 
 At the close of an address of some length, the captain 
 paused to hear what his neighbor had to say to it. At first 
 the latter had been eager to put in, and had tried to interrupt 
 the steady flow of the captain's narrative once or twice, but 
 on the last of these occasions something had happened which 
 made him change his mind. He was in front of the berths, 
 before mentioned ; Staples sat with his back to them. All at 
 once, Pierre's manner changed from that of the eager, excited 
 Frenchman, to that of the stolid Indian, determined to main- 
 tain dogged silence at any cost. Perhaps the captain attri- 
 buted this result to his own eloquence. He had just then re- 
 cited some of the bitterest things, which he alleged were said 
 of Langlois by Sassafras. However that may be, when the 
 captain came to his pause, Pierre remained silent and smoked 
 away with the obstinacy and grave assiduity of the most 
 
154 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 
 
 ponderous Dutchman. Thereupon the captain opened the 
 second head of his discourse, to the following effect : It would 
 be a very bad job if Sassafras made trouble between Langlois 
 and his brother, the chief. He, Staples, was afraid he would 
 try to do so, and Langlois ought to take measures to head 
 him off in time. He ought to see the chief and put hiin on 
 his guard against this vindictive and dangerous man. The 
 Indians were easily misled, and this Sassafras was of all men 
 the very one to do it. He, Staples, would advise Langlois to 
 go to the chief in the morning, and enlighten him as to the 
 true character of his pretended friend from Missouri. Sassa- 
 fras was no friend to the Indians at all, but a greedy adven- 
 turer, ready to plunder and betray friend and foe alike. Lang- 
 lois might be sure of this, for he. Staples, had had proof of 
 the greed and treachery of Sassafras that very night ; and 
 of all things in the world betw^een man and man, Staples most 
 hated treachery and greed, especially where Indians were the 
 victims of them. Much more to the same effect the old man 
 said ; but he extracted nothing from Langlois, whose replies 
 were very brief and indistinct, from his speaking with his 
 pipe in his mouth. When he thought he had well primed 
 his man, so that the quarrel between Sassafras and the chief 
 was sure to be fomented, and the breach between them cer- 
 tain to be widened, the captain rose and left the room. Lang- 
 lois, perhaps, might have followed, but the door w^as no sooner 
 shut upon the retreating figure of the former, than the young 
 Kiowa sprang lightly to the floor, and putting one hand on 
 Pierre's shoulder, laid the other on his mouth. They listened 
 warily for a few moments, then they sat down together, and 
 talked in whispers. 
 
 Meantime, Sassafras left his camp, and, gun in hand (he was 
 seldom without his rifle when on foot), began leisurely to climb 
 the wooded hill, between his camp and the valley, in which 
 the tents of the Cheyennes were pitched. Although it was 
 nearly dark, he made his way between the trees and bushes, 
 and over the fallen, rotting trunks, as if guided by a sort of in- 
 stinct. " A nice man is Staples," said Sassafras, " especially 
 for an old man. The saying is ' No fool like an old fool ;' it 
 ought to be < No rogue like an old rogue.' And the old hum- 
 bug thought to come it over me with his tough yarn about a 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 155 
 
 lord in disguise, coffee plantation in the Leeward Islands, and 
 mines on the Spanish Main. The mine is the Englishman's 
 guineas, and it's all fair to work it. These men are villains ! 
 anything is fair to beat them — that is, anything in reason." 
 He reached the top of the hill, and saw the fires of the Indians 
 glowing and sparkling in the valley below. Sometimes, as 
 they blazed up, the forms of the warriors might be perceived 
 reclining near them. " I wonder, now, whether that boy has 
 been to see the chief again," said Sassafras, " or whether he is 
 up at the fort with Pierre Langlois. He may be out on a hunt 
 with some of the men, but I doubt it. He wa'nt rigged in 
 hunting gear to my eye. But never mind ! I'll see Cinna- 
 mon," With this he strode down the slope, and saluting the 
 Indians who were upon the verge of the camp, moved in to- 
 wards the centre, where Cinnamon's tent was pitched. The 
 chief was at some little distance, leaning against a sapling 
 which grew in the glade, within the circle of light cast by one 
 of the fires. He was very grave, and so still that in that ruddy 
 light he looked mare like a grand, severe statue of a warrior 
 of his tribe, than a living man ; and yet if one had caught a 
 glimpse of his deep, dark eye, as it received the rays of the fire, 
 and flashed it back again, he might have seen a world of life 
 and power in the brain beyond. As Sassafras approached, the 
 Indian made a step forward, and put forth his open hand, 
 wdiile his countenance, before so sombre, glowed with pleasure. 
 " Sassafras is welcome to Cinnamon's camp," said he, leading 
 the w^ay to his own tent. They sat down together, smoked the 
 usual pipe, and then conversed for some time, in short, sen- 
 tient phrases. Sassafras carried on the conversation for the 
 most part, the chief listening attentively, and occasionally 
 making an observation. When they rose the Indian walked 
 with the white man to the foot of the hill. 
 
 Sassafras had crossed it, and entered the little valley in 
 which his own camp was placed, when his quick eye, far- 
 reaching almost as that of a tiger by night, caught sight of a 
 form half crouching in some straggling bushes. The ominous 
 click of the lock of the Western rifle, as Sassafras cocked it, 
 sounded in the still night upon the ear of him who was half 
 in hiding, and, straightening up, he stepped clear of the brush. 
 
 "Halloo, Joe! What brings you skulking here? I had 
 
156 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 almost put a bullet through you !" said Sassafras, addressing 
 a half-breed lad belonging to the fort. 
 
 " No skulk— not at all," said the boy ; " only wait for you." 
 
 " Well, here I am," said Sassafras, as they entered the edge 
 of the flickering light of the fire, from the dark void beyond. 
 " Now what is it, Joe ?" 
 
 " You to read alone," said the boy, putting a piece of folded 
 paper into the man's hand. 
 
 " From the fort, is it ?" 
 
 The boy nodded, and was about to turn away. 
 
 "Stop!" exclaimed Sassafras, laying his hand upon his 
 shoulder and detaining him. "Who sent it?" 
 
 " Say that inside ; you read alone," said Joe. 
 
 "That is, nobody else must read, eh?" 
 
 "Nobody see you read — you read alone, I was to say," 
 replied the boy. 
 
 " Ay, 1 am to read it when I'm alone. Very good. Do 
 you know what is in it?" 
 
 " Writing in it. You read alone, Sassafras." 
 
 "IMaybe you have read it alone — eh, Joe?" said Sassafras, 
 with a half-laugh. 
 
 " No, I can't read," said the boy. 
 
 " Can't read ! I thought you had been east to the mission 
 to school?" returned the Western man. 
 
 " I was, but I read not writing ; only read book. You read 
 alone, Sassafras. Friend say to me, * Tell Sassafras to read 
 alone.' " 
 
 "What friend?" 
 
 " Campau. He say : ' Joe, you take this to Sassafras. 
 Nobody see you but Sassafras, and Sassafras read alone.' 
 Nobody see me. I see Kirby and Englishman at Staples's 
 shanty, both drunk." 
 
 " You are a good boy, Joe. I like you, Joe. If I win a 
 race here, as I'm sure to do, you shall have something to re- 
 member it bv." 
 
 When Sassafras had said this, he made a pause. He might 
 have resolved much of which he had asked the boy, by open- 
 ing the paper, going to the fire, and reading it ; but he had 
 held the youth in parley for another purpose. 
 
 " Joe," said he, in a confidential sort of tone, " there was a 
 youDg Kiowa at the fort ; is he there now ?" 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 157 
 
 " He is," replied the boy. 
 
 " What do you know about him ?" asked Sassafras. 
 
 " Nothiug," replied the boy, in a sulky tone. "I like not 
 the Kiowas. They kill my fader on the Arkansas, above the 
 great bend." 
 
 " Ah ! I remember hearing of it," said Sassafras. " "Well, 
 Joe, what does that boy do at the fort ?" 
 
 "Netting that I know of," said the half-breed. 
 
 " Nothing ! why don't he practise with the bow and arrows 
 and his rifle at a mark ?" 
 
 " He's got no bow and arrow and no rifle, but he does prac- 
 tise at a mark, and it's wonderful." 
 
 " Tell me how, Joe ; I'm somewhat anxious about that boy. 
 Of course he is an Indian ?" 
 
 " Kiowa ! bad Indian ! son of war chief beyond the Ar- 
 kansas, way up in mountains. I don't like 'um. His practice 
 is with a knife. Sassafras, he can stand twenty feet off" from 
 a mark the size of a dollar and stick the point of his knife 
 into it every throw." 
 
 " The d — 1 he can ! That beats the fellow in the calaboose, 
 after we left the Grand Cayman. Joe, have you heard this 
 boy talk ?" 
 
 "Very little; only to himself when he thought he was 
 alone." 
 
 " Did you understand him ? What was his tongue ?" 
 
 ''I don't know. It was not English, nor French, nor any 
 Indian that I understand, but they say nobody can understand 
 the Kiowas." 
 
 Sassafras pondered a few minutes and then said : 
 
 " Joe, do you understand Spanish ?" 
 
 "I don't think I do," replied the boy, "if the Mexicans 
 speak Spanish." 
 
 " Well, Joe, keep your eye on that boy and take care of his 
 knife. I say — did you see any name on that knife ? Describe 
 the knife." 
 
 " Ivory haft, two-edged blade, five inches long, tapering to 
 a point. ' On the blade these letters in gold, 'TOLEDO.'" 
 
 " And that spells Toledo ! Well, Joe, come and see me 
 again." 
 
 The boy sprang forward towards the prairie, with his head 
 
158 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 low, and footsteps soft and agile as those of a panther. Sassa- 
 fras went to the fire, threw on a handful of brush, and as it 
 blazed up, read the following note : — 
 
 " Staples was here trying to get Langlois to make a difficulty 
 between you and Cinnamon. Beware of him. Be secret and 
 be shrewd. Fear nothing from the young Kiowa. Send Tom 
 Scarlet to the hills on a hunt with Frangois. Campau." 
 
 Sassafras re-read the note, commenting as he proceeded : — 
 
 " * Staples trying to make difficulty' — d — 1 doubt him ! He's 
 always trying to do that. ' Beware of him !' all right ! un- 
 necessary advice ! ' Fear nothing from the young Kiowa.' 
 Now, that's the kernel of this nut, if I could crack it. There's 
 no Kiowa about him, I'll bet a hundred to one on it. * Send 
 Tom Scarlet on a hunt with Fran9ois.' That piece of advice 
 is good, for if he and Staples and Jagger should meet he would 
 betray himself — he couldn't help it, and the fat would be in 
 the fire in no time. 'Campau !' very good name is Campau, 
 especially on a note promising to pay money at bank, but if 
 Campau wrote this I'll eat it. I know his hand-write, and this 
 ain't a bit like it. Let me see ! I'm not much of a scholar, 
 but when I see a thing once, of any moment, I generally know 
 when I see it again, and I'll swear I have seen this hand- 
 write before." 
 
 Sassafras sat and pondered. Suddenly he gave a start, and 
 said : 
 
 " The letters from New Orleans to Tom Scarlet and me ! 
 That's where I saw it before ; and the same hand that wrote 
 them wrote this. I wish we had those letters here ! * Fear 
 nothing from the young Kiowa !' Fear ! I should think not. 
 But I am curious concerning that boy, especially after hearing 
 of his doings with a knife. It's my opinion that he knows 
 another trick or two with it besides casting it at a mark. No 
 rifle ! That shows he is no French creole from below. No 
 bow and arrows ! That shows he's no Indian from the south- 
 west. Besides, he doesn't ride much, and he is not in-toed 
 when he's afoot! Let me see! The little hands and feet 
 which Fran9ois observed! And the eye which is neither 
 French nor Indian, but deeper, and brighter in its fire, than 
 either of them. I have it! He's a Spanish creole from the 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 159 
 
 islands ; that's what he is ! And what he is doing here I'll 
 find out yet. I'll just catch him alive some of these nights, 
 knife or no knife." 
 
 He went softly to the wagon under which the Frenchmen 
 were sleeping, and awoke Frangois. 
 
 " Fran9oi3," said he, " take Tom Scarlet on a hunt to the 
 hills to-mcrrow. He's eager to go for a day or two." 
 
 " My faith ! Sassafras, there's no deer in the near hills. 
 The Indians have driven them away by so much hunting." 
 
 " All the better. Take him to the farther hills, where the 
 deer are, and elk, too, and keep him there a week. I want to 
 get him out of sight of Staples. Propose the hunt to him 
 forthwith — he'll readily agree. Fill your saddle-bags, and 
 start soon after daylight — ' over the hills and far away !' I 
 should like to go on a good hunt myself, but have much to do 
 here. Staples tries to make a difficulty between me and the 
 Indians ; but his scheme will fail. By the time you return I 
 shall have all ready for our great stroke." 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 "Though in the trade of war I have slain men, 
 Yet do I hold it very stufif o' the conscience 
 To do no contrived murder." 
 
 TT was the break of day, and the air came fresh and cool, 
 J- with the gray tints of dawn, from the tops of the eastern 
 mountains. The clarion of the cock at the fort, and the an- 
 swering challenge of others at Captain Staples's quarters, 
 valorously ushered in the morn. In the vale of Sassafras's 
 camp the grass was heavy and dank with dew; the horses 
 rising one after another, and shaking their manes, began to 
 crop it. The active leader of the little band was early on foot, 
 and now there was bustle all around in getting ready for the 
 hunting expedition of Fran9ois and Tom Scarlet. By the 
 blazing fire, the negro cook, a master of his art in regard to 
 frying steaks and making corn cakes, was busy preparing the 
 breakfast. The boiling coflfee spread its fragrant essence 
 through the fresh morning air, while coUops of venison and 
 slices of fat salt pork hissed and spluttered in the frying-pans, 
 
160 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO X. 
 
 one of which the cook dexterously held in each hand. Proud 
 ■was the cook of his skill, fully appreciating the importance of 
 his art to sojourners in the wilderness. Behind the tents and 
 wao-ons two other men of his race were equipping the horses 
 of Francois and Tom Scarlet, while they ate from feed-boxes 
 of the rare dainty, to them, of sound, bright oats, mixed with 
 Indian corn. Further to the rear another negro, perhaps a 
 man, perhaps but a youth, for his appearance gave little indi- 
 cation of his age, was rubbing down the gray race-mare, 
 Virginia. This personage paid but little regard to the pro- 
 ceecfings of his mates with the other horses; and though his 
 wide nostril expanded as it owned the savory scent from the 
 frying-pans, he seemed to look upon the cook even with a 
 supercilious air. It must have been the dignity of his station 
 and occupation which inspired him, for of natural advantages 
 he had few to boast. He was black as night, when the thun- 
 der clouds fill the vast arch of the sky and shut up the stars. 
 His form was spare and ungainly, especially when he was on 
 foot, for in the saddle he displayed a sort of rough readiness 
 and ease which almost amounted to grace. His bullet head 
 was covered with close, crisp hair of the woolly order. His 
 features were hard. One bright eye, which fairly glowed 
 when he was animated, was all he had. His mouth, enormous 
 in its width, was garnished with very white and even teeth. 
 At a little distance stood Sassafras, with Tom Scarlet and 
 Fran9ois, to whom he was making rapid explanations and 
 giving instructions. Where the valley and the prairie met 
 the form of Jules was just visible as he brushed the dew away 
 with long strides, carolling gaily on his way to the fort with a 
 message to Pierre Langlois. 
 
 Breakfast over, the hunters mounted, and with a hearty 
 shake of the hand. Sassafras said : 
 
 " Good-by, Tom, and good luck. I know you'll have sport, 
 and should like to see you enjoy it. But that can't be this 
 time. You have with you one of the best men that ever 
 tracked a buck or shot an elk upon the frontier. Francois, 
 within six days return, and come in secretly by night." 
 
 The hunters rode away up the hill, so as to strike the valley 
 of the Cheyenne camp below the bend at which it lay. Sas- 
 safras looked after them until they entered the thick timber 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 161 
 
 and underbrush of the saddle between the two hills. Then he 
 turned to his favorite mare Virginia, and his true and trusty 
 rider, Black Dick. 
 
 " Dick, I shall not be on the track this morning. I have 
 another matter to look after," said Sassafras. 
 
 " Berry well. Massa tell what I do," returned the negro, 
 with his hand on the crest of the mare. 
 
 " The boys will go with you when Jules gets back. He 
 must be breakfasting at the fort, and will be here by the time 
 you have finished your own." 
 
 As Sassafras said this the lips of the negro parted, so as to 
 display his formidable teeth, all ready for their matin meal. 
 His master continued : 
 
 " Walk the mare a bit, then canter a couple of miles ; then 
 strip and take her a mile at above half speed. Scrape, then, 
 if she will scrape, and wind up with a good brushing gallop, 
 twice round. You understand ?" 
 
 " I understand," replied Dick ; " but must hab 'e Young 
 Chief to gallop with her. Dis ar mar' nebber go at all alone, 
 and 'e Chief sound enuff." 
 
 " N^ever you mind the Chief, he'll stay where he is until 
 almost noontime, when you can walk him. Do just what I 
 say — no more, no less." 
 
 " I brieve I alius do what massa say," replied the black in 
 a sulky tone, with his eye lowering and dull. " But massa 
 better tell 'e more too. Dis ar mar' nebber go a bit alone." 
 
 "Give her a touch with the spur." 
 
 " Spur !" said Dick, with a faint tinge of contempt, " 'e mar' 
 fight agen 'e spur ; and nebber go a good sharp lick alone." 
 
 " I don't want her to go a good sharp lick, but only to seem 
 as if she was doing nearly her best," said Sassafras. Then he con- 
 tinued to his pupil, and, in part, his confidant : " And mind this, 
 if the Englishman over there saj^s she is tired after her gallop 
 don't you contradict a gentleman of experience and high de- 
 gree from the old country — a man that can buy us all. D'ye 
 mind, Dick?" 
 
 The negro looked at his master for a moment, as if unable 
 
 to comprehend his drift ; but as Sassafras looked steadily and 
 
 significantly at him, awakening intelligence began to spread 
 
 over the hard ebony face. The bright eye lighted up, and 
 
 11 
 
162 THE WHITE HOESE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 opeDing the capacious mouth so that the white walls and red 
 lining yawned like a cavern, the black laughed till he shook 
 again. 
 
 " Come, that'll do, Dick. You understand how to work 
 after breakfast ?" 
 
 " Brieve I do. Dat ar mar' alius pull up tired," said the 
 negro, with another powerful laugh. " I nebber contradict a 
 gemman of high degree, 'cause 'e mar' alius pull up tired, 
 berry tired indeed ! Ho ! ho ! yah ! berry tired !" 
 
 Sassafras walked off, rifle in hand, and the negro went to 
 breakfast with his mates. For some time, seated on a feed- 
 box, he put his great mouth and beautiful teeth to exceeding 
 good use. Then looking at the gray mare for a long time with 
 the one bright eye, he suddenly burst out with such a roar of 
 laughter that, rocking himself to and fro, he slipped off the 
 box, and rolled and roared with ecstasy upon the grass. 
 
 " What ail dat nigga Dick ?" cried the others. 
 
 " Nebber contradict a gemman of high degree in all 'e life," 
 said Dick ; then sitting up and wiping his o'erflowing eye, he 
 exclaimed, " Dat ar mar' alius pull up tir"ed ! berry tired ! ho ! 
 ho! ha!" 
 
 Sassafras, whistling as he went, proceeded to the Cheyenne 
 camp. Pierre Lauglois, in compliance with the message deliv- 
 ered to him by Jules, was already there, and the chief sat grave 
 and still near the brands and ashes of the morning fire. A 
 few words from Sassafras were sufficient to inform the Indian 
 and his half-brother that the border man had come to hold a 
 sort of council with them. Cinnamon rose, and passing by the 
 men of his baud who lounged about the camp, led the way into 
 the wood on the hill. The three men sat down on a mossy log, 
 the chief in the centre. The latter filled the pipe of ceremony 
 with the choicest tobacco, mixed with some other dried and 
 fragrant herbs, and lighted it. A puff or two were taken in 
 turn by Sassafras and Pierre, as a matter of established form, 
 after which they produced their own pipes, and all three smoked 
 steadily in silence. When the pipes were finished Sassafras 
 opened his business by a few terse sentences in the Cheyenne 
 tongue, and concluded by requesting Lauglois to relate what 
 had fiillen from Staples in the night interview at the fort. 
 Pierre readily complied, and as he hated Staples with a viva- 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 163 
 
 cioiis hatred, and there was nothing to check his volubility, 
 the story lost nothing in the telling, and Pierre's comments 
 upon the facts were vigorous. Sassafras said nothing. The 
 chief sat very grave and still, with eyes cast down, until his 
 half-brother had finished. Then Cinnamon arose, and facing 
 the white man, laid his hand upon the ornament, the horse's 
 head, the latter wore upon his breast. 
 
 " Sassafras," said he, " is a warrior of my tribe. Together 
 we went out against the Sioux of the north, and their young 
 men fell like leaves from trees when the west wind blows. 
 The skin of Sassafras, clothed from the sun and wind, is pale, 
 but his blood is red as that of the Indians of the plains and 
 western mountains. He has an enemy. The wolverine is 
 hated by the hunter and the warrior, and every man slays the 
 cunning beast when he can. Sassafras is a man ! His gun is 
 true, his hand is strong, and his knife is keen. Let my friend 
 kill his enemy, and leave him to the ravens of the woods." 
 
 Cinnamon's friends appeared to be somewhat unprepared 
 for this decisive counsel, though not much startled by the cool 
 ferocity with which the summary taking off of Staples was 
 proposed. They looked at each other, as if each was waiting 
 for his neighbor to speak. Meantime the red man of the 
 immense plains and stupendous mountains played with his tom- 
 ahawk, and felt its keen edge with an air of abstraction. 
 After a silence which lasted from five to ten minutes, Sassa- 
 fras laid his hand upon the rich-brown arm of the chief, and 
 said : 
 
 " Cinnamon, you mean well. The thing might easily be 
 done, and very few would go into mourning because the ravens 
 and wolves had cleaned the bones of Staples. In you it would 
 be human nature to take him unawares ; but I, you see, can- 
 not do it. I cannot kill a man in cold blood ; neither can I 
 get up a passion, and contrive a quarrel for the purpose of 
 fixing him in that." 
 
 " Sassafras had no quarrel with the Sioux ; he was cool 
 when we went into ambush, and shot their young men," said 
 the chief, with a smile. 
 
 "Ah, but circumstances alter cases. Cinnamon," said Sassa- 
 fras, in reply. "■ It's true I had no quarrel with the Sioux, 
 but you had ; and they were a bloody set that we fought 
 
164 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 
 
 against. It was a state of war, which makes all the difference. 
 That Staples and I shall have a fight in the end, is very 
 likely. I shall neitlier bring it on, nor try to avoid it. When 
 it happens, his time is come, and I shall kill him. For why ? 
 Because he will kill me, if I do not kill him." 
 
 The chief said no more, and Langlois looked relieved. 
 Sassafras adverted to the note sent to him the night before 
 from the fort, but Pierre made no observation. Kor could the 
 chief or his half-brother be drawn on to talk of the young 
 Kiowa ; so Sassafras, changing the subject, spoke of the match 
 between the gray mare and the horse brought from the South 
 by Staples. The Indian listened with interest to the praises 
 bestowed by her master on Virginia ; and before the three 
 men separated the sun was high in the heavens. 
 
 The meridian heat was past, and a tinge of crimson had 
 begun to flush the light clouds in the western sky, when Sas- 
 safras sauntered carelessly down to the race-track. Jagger, 
 alias Reginald Grosvernor, was already there, mounted upon 
 the White Horse. This man was about forty years old, lathy 
 in figure, about the middle height, and far from prepossessing 
 in countenance. His face was thin and blotchy. His nose was 
 very red and somewhat swollen, having been scorched and 
 peeled, instead of tanned, by the fervid western sun. His eye 
 was small and uncertain, stealing furtive glances from under 
 the drooping lid ; and his scanty hair and whiskers were sandy 
 in color. In his attire and general get-up there was a mixture 
 of finery, soiled and worn, instead of the rough but serviceable 
 garments adapted to the prairie and the woods. A figured 
 satin stock did not altogether hide the breast of a dirty shirt. 
 His pearl-colored doeskin trousers were strapped down over 
 much-worn boots ; his coat of the Newmarket cut, once bright- 
 green, but now faded, showed many a soil ; and his Panama 
 hat was bruised, broken and begrimed. But with all this he 
 wore a profusion of jewelry, and looked like a member of the 
 swell mob in adverse circumstances. In external points the 
 horse he rode seemed much the nobler animal of the two. 
 The eye of Sassafras ranged over him from his muzzle to his 
 hoofs, and dwelt with delight upon his excellent proportions. 
 But he soon directed his attention to the man, and addressing 
 him with such familiarity as their presence in the wilds and 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 165 
 
 their occupatious might justify, begau by complimenting him 
 upon his riding and evident general knowledge of horseman- 
 ship. The gudgeon eagerly snapped at the bait. Feeling 
 pleased with the admiration bestowed upon him, and the 
 modest deference so artfully paid to him, Reginald decided to 
 patronize the young fellow before him in so much as to give 
 him the benefit of some of his knowledge and experience in 
 racing matters. 
 
 Jagger was, in truth, but a poor horseman ; his knowledge 
 of the turf was mostly confined to rascalities, practised by the 
 few who believe them to be universal, in connection therewith. 
 Sassafras had already taken the measure of his man, but 
 although his breast swelled with alternate emotions of anger 
 and amusement, as Jagger held forth and instructed him in 
 the mysteries of breeding, training and riding, there was no 
 sign in his hard, dark, hickory face. It was long since Jagger 
 had enjoyed the enlightening of a man who suited him, and 
 who seemed so thoroughly the slave of his humor. Staples 
 was too opinionated to listen, and had too much experience 
 of racing himself to hear patiently the romances related by 
 Jagger of his own wonderful exploits. Kirby and Keeps 
 knew of no better horses than the hardy and clever animals 
 on which they had been accustomed to hunt the buffalo. 
 They were willing enough to drink with Jagger from dark to 
 dawn ; but whenever he began to feel the effects of his deep 
 potations, and commenced the account of the way in which he 
 won the Derby with an outsider, and brought about the defeat 
 of the three favorites for the St. Leger, the burly hunter sum- 
 marily desired him to " shet up." As for Tom of Lincoln, he had 
 no sooner found himself in America, and consequently out of 
 the purview of a warrant from an English magistrate, than he 
 quarrelled with his patron, knocked him down in a drunken 
 spree, and went off on his own hook, after extorting a con- 
 sidei'able sum of money from him. Jagger galloped his horse, 
 and Sassafras was profuse in his professions of admiration and 
 delight. His intended victim talked long and learnedly, and 
 after going to the fort to drink, talked long again. Once more, 
 twice more, they went to the fort for liquor, and Jagger treated 
 Staples's negro boys. The Western man made feints, as if 
 about to leave, but Jagger detained him, and talked on and 
 
166 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 on. To the fort again, where Jagger, seated on a barrel, and 
 thrashing his legs ^Yith his whip, harangued and drank, and 
 declaimed and drank again, until his eyes were red and watery, 
 his voice was thick, and he forgot, from time to time, the 
 thread of his discourse. Finally his docile and admiring friend 
 flatly contradicted him touching the merits and condition of 
 the gray mare, Virginia. Jagger declared that she was no 
 race-horse. He had noticed her frame, and no horse made in 
 that form could run fast, or stay for more than a mile. And 
 then he hiccoughed out that he had seen her pull up tired, 
 after a moderate galloj) of two miles, and that the black chap 
 who rode her would confirm what he said. To all appearance 
 Sassafras was in high dudgeon, and the end of a long, rambling 
 discussion between them was a bet of five hundred dollars, 
 Sassafras backing the gray mare, and Jagger taking the chest- 
 nut horse belonging to his earnest and sincere friend, Captain 
 Staples. It ought to be stated that this result was not finally 
 brought about until the captain himself had arrived, and had 
 heard Jagger relate, in a corner, with the cunning leer of 
 intoxication and wdth owlish gravity, the distressed condition 
 of the mare after her morning gallop. 
 
 "Are you sure of that?" said Staples. 
 
 " Sure as heggs is heggs. Ask the blackamoor who rode 
 her," said Jagger, with a reel. 
 
 "What, Black Dick? O, if he said she was tired, or 
 allowed she was tired when you made the observation, it's all 
 right. Make the bet, and don't let Sassafras back out. Make 
 the bet at once," said the venerable and disinterested Staples. 
 
 The bet was made, play or pay, as Staples in a whisper 
 suggested, and Jagger obstinately insisted. The money was 
 staked in Campau's hands, and was by him handed over to the 
 manager of the company for safe-keeping. More drink and 
 more hubbub followed. At length the parties separated. 
 Staples followed Sassafras into the dark shade, and exchanged 
 a few sentences with him. Jagger was dragged off to the 
 shanty between Kirby and Keeps, and awoke the next morn- 
 ing with a headache and an intense longing for soda-water, 
 of which there was none within about a thousand miles. Two 
 days after the match was run, a dash twice round the course. 
 The chestnut horse led for a mile and three-quarters, and 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 167 
 
 Jagger oracularly announced that it was all over. It is pos- 
 sible that if Black Dick had heard him he might have been 
 loath to contradict, in fact, a "gemman of high degree ;" but as 
 it was, he brought Virginia to the front in the last quarter of 
 a mile, and won by a length. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 "Haste still pays haste, and leisure answers leisure, 
 Like doth quit like, and Measure still for Measure." 
 
 IT was night, and the store at the fort was almost full of 
 rough and noisy men. Indians, hunters, traders, and a few 
 negroes were there, talking and drinking. Sassafras was, for 
 the present, king of the company. He had received the stakes 
 of the race, and had liberally treated all who chose to partake 
 at his expense. Everybody did choose, except the manager, 
 and one or two of his clerks ; and one jug of whiskey alter 
 another was consumed by the seasoned and thirsty rovers who 
 composed the throng. Jagger was in the crowd, at least half 
 drunk. The liquor had not, however, allayed the bitterness 
 which had possessed him ever since the gray mare collared 
 the chestnut horse, and ran home a winner. Everybody and 
 everything was to blame, except himself; and he distributed 
 his blame with such plentiful impartiality, that nothing but 
 the prospect of more whiskey, and perhaps a row, prevented 
 Kirby and Keeps from leaving him to " paddle his own canoe," 
 as the former expressed it. He was loud and severe against 
 Staples as a trainer. The clamor of his complaints and up- 
 braidings had driven the old man to leave his company. In 
 default of a better, he now seized upon Sassafras as a listener, 
 and declaimed, with droning vehemence and ludicrous senti- 
 ment, upon his own knowledge and experience, and the stu- 
 pidity and obstinacy of Staples and his men. If his own sug- 
 gestions had been followed, the horse could hardly have lost, 
 though the riding of him was wretched, and simply disgusting 
 to one who knew what riding was. 
 
 " What you say is true in the main," said Sassafras, with 
 apparent candor ; " but you could hardly expect science and 
 
168 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 • 
 skill here, such as you have picked up, year after year, at 
 Epsom, Newmarket, aod where not. I say you look for too 
 much, and try us by too high a standard. We are well enough 
 in our way." 
 
 " Ay ! but it's a d d bad way !" cried Jagger. " Was 
 
 there ever a race thrown away like this before? No condition, 
 no management, no riding, no nothing. I protest to you, Sas- 
 safras, that you are the only man in these parts with a bit of 
 sense. You appreciate my abilities and acquirements, and 
 you are the only one, unless it be the red man at your elbow, 
 who seems to be interested in what I say." 
 
 " Yes, Cinnamon is interested in your remarks — deeply in- 
 terested, considering that he can hardly understand the lan- 
 guage. But fill up, and let us drink all round : To the turf 
 and the races thereof— may the best horses always win !" 
 
 " And that's what they never can do, as long as ignorance 
 and folly have charge of them," said Jagger, after doing jus- 
 tice to the toast. " Staples isn't fit to train a plough-horse, to 
 say nothing of a racer. I could teach you a good deal. Sassa- 
 fras. You are tractable, and not above learning from a man 
 like me. In six months I could make a man of you. But 
 you overestimate that gray mare — you do indeed !" 
 
 " It may be so," returned Sassafras. " I raised her myself, 
 and it is but natural that I should think well of her. She 
 isn't Flying Childers nor Eclipse ; but for the wooden country 
 she was bred in and the sort of races we run out here the mare 
 is a good one." 
 
 " Good one ! You mean that there's nothing but very bad 
 'uns to try her with," said Jagger, with a snarl. " Why, she 
 couldn't win a hunter's plate in any county in England ; and 
 if she ran for a saddle and bridle at Barnet Fair, I doubt 
 whether she could pull it off. There's better than her in stage 
 coaches and doctors' gigs where I came from." 
 
 " Very likely !" cried Sassafras, " but she can beat any horse 
 west of the big river (save one) two or three-mile heats, weight 
 for age." With this he rose and struck the table with his nst. 
 Jagger rose too, and their loud voices in opposition to each 
 other stilled the brawling in other parts of the store, and drew 
 the men around them. Hunters and Indians, half drunk, 
 ready with the knife and pistol on small occasions, hemmed 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 169 
 
 them in. The broad-shouldered Kirby and the lithe, snaky 
 Keeps ranged themselves with Jagger. Cinnamon and Pierre 
 Langlois stood with Sassafras, and young Campau was close 
 behind him. 
 
 " I say, and mean no offence, only a fair race, if anybody 
 wants to take it up and make it, that she can beat any horse 
 save one west of the big river, weight for age, two or three- 
 mile heats. Is that fair ?" said Sassafras. 
 
 "It is good," replied Cinnamon. 
 
 " Then if anybody wants it, I'll make the match for a 
 thousand dollars a side." 
 
 " Say save none ! You might as well, for there is not one 
 can beat Virginia, the flower of St. Jo. !" said young Campau. 
 
 " Was there ever such stuff as this talked before ?" said Jag- 
 ger, with much disgust. " Why, a winner of the Oaks could 
 not be more highly spoken of." 
 
 " There have been some not half as good," replied Sassa- 
 fras. 
 
 " I've been mistaken in this man," said Jagger to Kirby. 
 " He's a bigger fool than you, or Staples." 
 
 The hunter was about to make a rough and rude reply, when 
 Keeps interfered : 
 
 " Listen ! listen ! Sassafras is going to speak. Hear all and 
 say nothing." , 
 
 " The challenge is made, coupled with the exception. What 
 I said I'll stand to. Any horse west of the Mississippi river 
 except one," said Sassafras. 
 
 " And what one may the excepted horse be ?" asked Jagger. 
 
 " Well, sir ! your own — the White Horse. I have a high 
 opinion of him, and cannot tell how good he may be," replied 
 Sassafras. " Besides, with the science and skill of Epsom and 
 Newmarket against her in the way of training, Virginia 
 would be under another great disadvantage. Therefore the 
 exception holds." 
 
 " Keeps, this man is no fool !" said Jagger. He then ex- 
 claimed : " Sassafras, you are a good fellow, and fairly wise for 
 your limited experience. I'll treat all hands upon it." 
 
 There was a hum of applause, and the butts of several rifles 
 fell upon the floor, testifying the emphatic approbation of their 
 owners at this announcement. They drank, and drank deeply. 
 
170 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 Jagger began to brag of the races he had won and the feats 
 he had performed with the White Horse in England. 
 
 " He is responi^ible for the deaths of two noblemen, and was 
 the cause of the breaking up of the ministry," said Jagger. 
 " They couldn't pay their losses when he won the Ascot Cup. 
 One of 'em took prussic acid, and the other blowed his brains 
 out at the Lord Mayor's dinner-table. Sassafras had better 
 not match him, I can tell you." 
 
 "You're right, Mr. Grosvernor," said Sassafras. "Prussic 
 acid wouldn't agree with me, and I've a notion it's better to 
 blow out another man's brains than my own. If I was to 
 match Virginia against your horse I should want a heap 
 of odds in the weights as well as the stakes. He looks like a 
 grand horse, and I reckon you have got him into fine con- 
 dition." 
 
 " I have, by following my own method. I have refused to 
 listen to Staples, and have got the horse in better order than 
 you ever saw a racer before. I was my own trainer in 
 England." 
 
 " I told Black Dick how it was," said Sassafras. " I said 
 this horse has had the grand preparation by the English 
 method." (He had really said : " Dick, there's a horse that 
 looks w^ell outwardly, but he's fat inside, and couldn't last in a 
 good race.") "However," continued Sassafras, "next to win- 
 ning with a right good horse is being beaten by one. Since 
 the horse is so famous, and has come so far, it would be a pity 
 to let him go away without running against him once. We 
 are up here in the woods and out on the prairies, and few of 
 us may ever see one of his stamp again. Kow, if you'll give 
 me forty pounds the best of the weights, and bet me two to 
 one in the stakes, I'll run Virginia against him, two-mile 
 heats." 
 
 " I could beat her easily enough," said Jagger, " for I should 
 ride him myself; but I'll make no match of that sort." 
 
 " I have another proviso to mention," said Sassafras. " If 
 I lose, as no doubt I shall, you shall tell me all about your 
 method of training. Give us some more whiskey here, and 
 we'll have a match somehow." 
 
 Jagger drank again, and then held a whispering consulta- 
 tion with Kirby and Keeps. These worthies strongly advised 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 171 
 
 the making of another match, seeing in it the probable source 
 of much \Yhiskey and some money. But Keeps protested 
 against acceding to the terms mentioned by Sassafras. " Let 
 us," said he, " hold out for even weights. The odds in money 
 is nothing. It makes no difference what you lay when you are 
 dead sure to win. Sassafras will refuse to strike hands for 
 even weights, but you can afford to stand out as long as he 
 can. The night is young yet, and we're in no hurry." 
 
 " That's it !" said Kirby. " I'll stay here all night before 
 anybody shall get the better of Mr. Grosvernor in anything. 
 Meantime there's plenty of whiskey in the store, and by call- 
 ing for it often we can make Sassafras drunk. Once get him 
 drunk, and he'll agree to anything you may choose to stand out 
 for. Eh, Keeps ?" 
 
 The latter made no reply, but his look seemed to intimate 
 that in a drinking match between Jagger and Sassafras, the 
 former would be drunk first. Eeturning to the group in the 
 centre of the room, Jagger said : " I will make this race on 
 the condition that each horse shall carry the weights for The 
 Whip at Newmarket, ten stun, which is one hundred and forty 
 pounds, you know. My horse holds The Whip now. I chal- 
 lenged for it, named him, and it was resigned by the Duke of 
 Grafton without a race. I was sorry for the Duchess," con- 
 tinued the veracious Jagger, "as an old friend, I may say rela- 
 tive. She was much vexed at their having to give up the 
 trophy. In fact, I brought the White Horse from England 
 in order that, he being out of the way, the Duke may have a 
 chance to win the prize again. He had none whatever while 
 I was there." 
 
 " I should think not ! but what has that got to do with a 
 race between us, four thousand miles away ?" said Sassafras. 
 
 " It has this to do," replied Jagger, pompously : " I should 
 lose standing in the Jockey Club, if I ran the winner of The 
 Whip with less than ten stun." 
 
 , " I don't ask you to carry less," said Sassafras ; " but I 
 reckon the Jockey Club w'on't care what an old gray mare, 
 owned on the outskirts of the American settlements, and run 
 in the Indian country, carries. Let the horse carry one hun- 
 dred and forty pounds, and the mare one hundred pounds. 
 That will be the fair thing!" 
 
172 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " I will make no matcli if it be not even weights, ten stun 
 each," replied Jagger. " I don't care about running here at 
 all, especially heats. There's a sort of barbarity in it, and it'll 
 be positive cruelty to the mare in this instance." 
 
 " Well, she may save her bacon by cooking mine, and get 
 clean distanced in the first heat," said Sassafras. 
 
 " I may choose to distance her, or I may not," said Jagger, 
 complacently. "If I make a waiting race, she will not be 
 distanced ; if the horse comes away with the running, she will 
 be. But it would be an inglorious conquest for me, and I do 
 not care about running the horse at all. I have trained him 
 for amusement merely, and would not match him at home for 
 less than a thousand guineas a side." 
 
 " There must be a heap of money in your country ; we are 
 poor folks here," returned the border man. " Still, if we can 
 agree about weights, I'll try to make it worth your while, by 
 consenting that the winner shall have both horses, as well as 
 the stakes. Now you will give me the forty pounds?" 
 
 " I'll give nothing ! nothing ! I hate giving !" cried Jagger. 
 " Nobody proposes to give anything to me." 
 
 *' Ain't there though ?" said Kirby, aside. " I've promised 
 you a h — 1 of a licking, for cheating me at cribbage, and then 
 blackguarding me to the old man." 
 
 " Look here !" said Keeps to Jagger, " split the difference, 
 and give him twenty pounds in weight. What's the odds, 
 when you are sure to win ?" 
 
 " AVhy, certainly it nuitters but little, for a ton would not 
 bring the horses together, under the different methods of train- 
 ing," replied Jagger. " But I concede nothing in the way of 
 weight. It is a condescension in me, which Sassafras don't 
 deserve, to make a race with him at all, and if I do it, I'll 
 have my way." 
 
 The Western man heard the latter part of Jagger's remarks, 
 and a biting reply had almost escaped him. He controlled 
 his rising auger, however, and said, " Why ! I thought it was 
 altogether different in your country. We have heard that 
 there, if a man was passably well behaved, and had the horse 
 to do it, he could run and win against the very best in the 
 land. They have told us that Eclipse himself, though bred 
 by a royal duke, was owned and run by a butcher ; and I have 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 173 
 
 heard say that the prize-fighter who licked Gregson has often 
 in races beat George the King." 
 
 " Not in matches, young man !" returned Jagger, snappishly. 
 " A gentleman of my rank and standing in the country would 
 hardly condescend to make a match with you in England." 
 
 " I reckon that's so !" replied Sassafras, significantly. " But 
 here w^e are in America, four or five thousand miles from Eng- 
 land, and well on towards the heart of the continent. If it 
 comes to rank and standing here, Cinnamon is the greatest 
 man among us. But that's neither here nor there. What 
 you propose as to weights is hardly reasonable. Virginia 
 would have to carry thirty or forty pounds of dead weight, 
 enough to beat almost any horse." 
 
 " Ride her yourself, and she need carry none. I intend to 
 ride the White Horse," replied Jagger. 
 
 " I reckon it would be hardly wise for me to ride against 
 you, from what I have seen of you in the saddle. Newmarket 
 against St. Jo. is too steep, unless it was in a bufiTalo hunt. I 
 ought, by rights, to have another Englishman to ride against 
 you, but I'll warrant you can't tell me where to get one who 
 is qualified just now. Therefore, you ought to give twenty 
 pounds in weight, as against Black Dick, to say nothing of 
 the difierence between our horses. Come here, Dick !" 
 
 The one eye of the negro had flashed from Sassafras to 
 Jagger, and from the latter to Sassafras, like a dancing jack- 
 o'-lantern in a dark night, during the latter part of the dis- 
 cussion. He stood on the outer circle of the listeners, but his 
 master now stretched forth his hand and hauled him into the 
 centre of the throng, saying : 
 
 " Do you think I ought to run Virginia against the White 
 Horse at less than thirty or forty pounds, Dick ?" 
 
 " I think I nebber run 'e mar' agen 'e White Horse at all. 
 A darkey knows beans when cle bag is open !" replied Dick. 
 
 " Good, ebony, good ! Give the blackamoor a drink, there !" 
 cried Jagger. 
 
 " AVho 'e call blackamoor ?" said Dick, in his sulkiest tone. 
 " Don't raise 'e blackamoor in Ole Virginia, I reckon." 
 
 "Never mind !" said Sassafras. " Drink to Mr. Grosvernor 
 and the White Horse ! And never contradict a gentleman of 
 high degree from the old country, if he should be pleased to 
 call you the d — 1 himself." 
 
174 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " De debbel hisself no fool !" said the black ; " 'e nebber 
 run agen 'e White Horse !" 
 
 There was a laugh as Dick said this, and Jagger "was espe- 
 cially merry. 
 
 " You hear ',vhat the boy says — how can you insist on even 
 weights ?" said Sassafras. 
 
 " For the same reason that you desire to run- heats — it's my 
 fancy ; and I'll have the match no other way," replied Jagger. 
 
 " NVait a few minutes, and I'll decide," said Sassafras. 
 
 He took aside Cinnamon, Campau and Black Dick, to hold 
 a consultation in his turn. Campau talked rapidly in whis- 
 pers. The Indian delivered his opinion in just six words : 
 " Virginia beat the Snake-Eye's horse !" Black Dick was 
 understood by the by-stauders to urge objections and remon- 
 strances to the end, but they were overruled by Campau. Sas- 
 fras looked grave. He weighed the reasons advanced by his 
 followers, and, as usual with great men and commanders, 
 found none sufficient to set aside the resolution he had come 
 to before he asked his friends and subordinates for their advice. 
 He passed into the centre of the eager throng and said : 
 
 " Mr. Grosvernor, I accept the conditions — Virginia against 
 the White Horse at even weights, one hundred and forty 
 pounds each, one thousand dollars a side in money, and the 
 winner to take both horses. To run this day week ; two-mile 
 heats." 
 
 "Very well!" said Jagger, after having been whispered to 
 by Keeps and Kirby ; " but the match shall be play or pay, 
 and the money shall be put up now." 
 
 This was agreed to. The minute was made and the money 
 staked with the manager. 
 
 " What a fool he is !" said Jagger, as Sassafras left the place 
 with Black Dick. 
 
 As they passed along towards their own camp they came 
 suddenly upon Cinnamon, Pierre Langlois and the young 
 Kiowa. Sassafras was about to seize the latter, but thought 
 better of it. He said good-night to the chief and went on 
 towards his own camp. As they neared it the one-eyed black 
 spoke : 
 
 " Massa, I don't know 'bout dis yere match. The folks 
 away down in Ole Virginia alius say de good English horse 
 
. THE WRITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 175 
 
 can beat de good horse of de States. Dey say dat in King 
 George." 
 
 " I know it," said Sassafras, " and we are in deep water now. 
 But it's to be heats, Dick ; and that fellow can neither train 
 nor ride. You can outride him." 
 
 " Ay, but de dead weight — forty pounds. Besides, I brieve 
 dat White Horse to be a good 'un. I see him run through 
 dat stretch faster than a buck. I brieve he outrun de mar' 
 anywhere." 
 
 " But it's heats, and he'll be in no condition." 
 
 " De mar' '11 be in no condition when she's carried me and 
 forty pounds dead weight two miles." 
 
 " Hush ! I hear a man in the bushes. Say nothing to any- 
 body, especially as to their horse's want of condition." 
 
 The man in the bushes was Captain Staples. He was not 
 in an amiable frame of mind. Jagger's talk had enraged 
 him ; he was suspicious of Sassafras, and he was irritated be- 
 cause he had been waiting long. The Western man dismissed 
 the negro and said : 
 
 " Well, captain, what's the word to-night ?" 
 
 " The first word is that I want two hundred and fifty dollars 
 of you," said Staples. " You have drawn the money, and 
 short settlements make long friends." 
 
 "Drawn the money — yes! but I have staked it again, and 
 as much more, to make up your part in a match for a thousand 
 a side." 
 
 " My part ! Who gave you authority to make matches for 
 me ?" said Staples. 
 
 " You did. Are we not partners in this little scheme to 
 relieve Reginald What-you-may-call of some of his ready 
 money ?" 
 
 " That's as may turn out. I doubt whether your old mare 
 can beat that White Horse the race you've made." 
 
 " You know what it is, then ?" said Sassafras. 
 
 " Ay, I heard of it as soon as you agreed, and have been in 
 the brush on the hill, like a fox prowling round a camp-fire, 
 ever since. The Cheyennes came near where I lay once ; it 
 was well they didn't stumble on me." 
 
 " It was, captain," said Sassafras ; " for if they had, your 
 scalp would have been at one of their belts by this time, in the 
 event of your bringing on a fight." 
 
176 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK , 
 
 " It might. They're here in numbers, and the chief is as 
 sassy as if the continent was owned by him. But W'hat a fool 
 you were to agree to carry a hundred and forty pounds ! The 
 old mare will be licked into fits, unless something is done." 
 
 " I don't say she isn't beatable, but I couldn't stand the 
 bragging of that English lord. I am an American — a man 
 raised in Old Virginia — and nobody shall overcrow me without 
 being called to show his hand." 
 
 " I honor them sentiments," said Captain Staples. " My 
 patriotism is well known, too, and I'll show it by keeping as 
 much of this British gold in the country as I can. But what 
 possessed you to make such a fool's match as this ? You've got 
 nobody to ride." 
 
 " There's lead enough at the fort, to make Black Dick the 
 weight," said Sassafras. 
 
 " Black Dick — black devil ! The Englishman has ridden 
 in matches for thousands of guineas — at least he says so — 
 and shall Black Dick, with forty pounds of dead weight, be 
 put up against him?" 
 
 "What can I do?" 
 
 " Pay forfeit. The Englishman will then be so full of con- 
 ceit that he'll make another match on better terms for you, 
 and for twice as much, I say, pay forfeit." 
 
 " There is no forfeit. The match is, play or pay. The 
 money up." 
 
 " Then the Englishman has got you," said Staples, with a 
 
 show of disgust. " I'm d d if you ain't damaged the 
 
 Western turf and disgraced the country worse nor Old Hull 
 when he surrendered to the British and that red devil Tecum- 
 seh. I ain't in it, and I must have my money before it comes 
 off." 
 
 " I might very well dispute that, and the forty Cheyennes 
 would stand by me," said Sassafras ; " but take your own 
 way. You always undervalued the mare. Suit yourself as 
 to whether you'll go in or not. You musn't play fast and 
 loose up to the race though. In three days I must have your 
 answer — ay or no. If you say no, I shall be able to carry 
 it on alone ; and then, sink or swim, let the hardest fend off." 
 
 " But you've no right to carry it on alone, if you can carry 
 it on to win," said Staples. " I brought the Englishman and 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 177 
 
 his money up into this country, and have got a lien upon 'em. 
 Nobody must disregard my rights." 
 
 "Nobody wants to." 
 
 " They had better not want to. No race will come off, if 
 I tell the Englishman not to run." 
 
 " Perhaps not," said Sassafras. " But in that case a thou- 
 sand dollars of his gold and his White Horse will come off. 
 Keeps advised the making of it play or pay, and the gentle- 
 man insisted upon it." 
 
 " Keeps is a villain and Kirby is a bull-head ; I tell you 
 that in confidence, though I dare say you have suspected as 
 much yourself," said the old man. After a pause, he added : 
 " I'd sooner be in with you than anybody. Sassafras. In deep 
 — and safe, safe ! You work the mare three or four days, and 
 then I'll tell you what I propose to do. AYork her good and 
 strong four days." 
 
 " I said I wanted your answer in three days — four will not 
 do," said Sassafras. 
 
 " Well, well 1 You young men are so suspicious of your elders, 
 not to say betters — I mean in wisdom and virtue. You might 
 trust to my honor for six days, I should think, if it came to 
 that. But you young men lack faith and confidence in other 
 people. It's a great misfortune. When I was your age, I 
 was the confidingest mortal that ever was. But the world has 
 growed worse fast since then." 
 
 " Looking at what you are now, I should think it has," said 
 Sassafras. " But never mind, captain ! We will endeavor to 
 recoup ourselves for the degeneracy of all, by winning this 
 man's thousands, and a good deal more." 
 
 " Out of each thousand won, I am to have six hundred," said 
 Staples. " That is the agreement, you know." 
 
 " Ay ! and I know you are to have the Englishman's horse 
 in your stable," said Sassafras. " But, Staples, I'm opposed 
 on principle to dosing." 
 
 " Dosing be d d ! who said anything about dosing ?" said 
 
 Staples. " I hate to hear the thing mentioned, especially when 
 a bucket of water or the accidental slipping of the muzzle may 
 do just as w^ell. Work the mare — work her good and strong ! 
 I begin to think she may win. Good-night !" 
 
 As the old man moved off rapidly, Sassafras stood and looked 
 12 
 
178 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 after him, until his form was lost in the dusky light and mist 
 that hung over the prairie. The slight rustle of leaves and 
 boughs in the bushes close at hand caught the Western man's 
 ear, and he saw the young Kiowa stealing swiftly but cautiously 
 away. With a bound like the spring of a panther, Sassafras 
 went through the underbrush, and took after him. The youth 
 was swift of foot, but not so swift as the powerful frontier man, 
 especially over the broken ground and through the bushes. 
 The latter gained on the boy, whose hard breathing he could 
 already hear. His hand was ready to be stretched out to 
 grasp the flying youth, when another figure suddenly started 
 up, and caught Sassafras in its arms. It was the Indian 
 chief. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 'Kingly his crest, and towards the West, 
 With his battle-axe he pointed." 
 
 IT was the golden evening of the w^estern day towards the 
 fall of the year, and the foliage of the woods was rich with 
 varied tints, and full of gorgeous colors. The sun touched 
 the horizon in the west, and fell upon a slope of wooded laud 
 which declined into a thickly-timbered valley. Some of the 
 trees, without having lost their freshness, seemed to have 
 caught the rich hues of the sky. The great white-oaks, how- 
 ever, retained their glossy green. In the large black-walnut 
 trees the squirrels were busy, as if preparing for and rejoicing 
 over the harvest which was ripening on the wide-spreading 
 branches. A light breeze played among the boughs of the 
 loftiest trees and rustled the crimson leaves of the gigantic 
 creepers which had twined and wreathed to the tops of the 
 monarchs of the wood. It did not reach the young saplings 
 which had sprung up thick from the rich mould of so many 
 generations of their ancestors. Here at once went on the 
 shoot of infancy, the rise of aspiring youth, the strength of 
 middle life, the ripening of autumn, the wither of age, and 
 the rot, mould and decay from which sprang the resurrection. 
 And thus, saith the great poet of antiquity, it was with the 
 human species : 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 179 
 
 " Like leaves on trees the race of man is found, 
 Now green in youth, now withering on the ground." 
 
 Upou this wooded slope Francois and Tom Scarlet had lit 
 their camp-fire at the close of the first day's hunt. It had 
 been successful. Several turkeys had fallen to the buckshot 
 from the smooth-bore of the young Englishman, and a small 
 ball from the heavy rifle of the Frenchman had brought a 
 fat buck down. Their kettle had sung merrily over the crack- 
 ling fire, the venison steaks had been toasted, the evening meal 
 was done. The sun had gone down over the hills and woods 
 which stretched away like the dark billows of a great green 
 sea towards the west. The stars came out in the clear sky 
 unveiled by cloud or mist. Upon the still air of the open 
 places of the woods the scent of wild flowers and fragrant 
 shrubs was quickened by the falling dew. A drowsy hum of 
 insects was heard in the low leaves ; the owl swept by on noise- 
 less wing and disappeared again like a spectre among the sil- 
 very trunks of the trees. Once the long howl of the wolf 
 came fi'om the rugged ground of the pass above. The plain- 
 tive cry of whip-poor-will was often heard from the depths 
 of the forest, as in warning or lament over the sojourners in 
 the w^aste. 
 
 " How beautiful the night is, Francois ! How grand and 
 solemn these great w'oods seem in which we are alone — all, all 
 alone !" said Tom Scarlet. " It was worth the voyage from 
 England and the journey from the sea-coast to be in such a 
 scene. It seems as though we, of all men, had been admitted 
 by nature into one of her secret, solitary places to see and feel 
 her truths. Franyois, the Druids and the old Scandinavian 
 races did well to make the deep oak woods their solemn tem- 
 ples." 
 
 " It may be so," replied the Frenchman, " but you may find 
 some things here natural, withal, but not pleasant. Throw a 
 blanket over your shoulders, and then draw into the curl of 
 the smoke and heat of the fire as I do. The calmness and 
 beauty of the night are hardly greater than its danger to one 
 unacclimated like you. These still, beautiful nights in the 
 early fall sow the poison which ferments in the blood to bring 
 on the deadly chill and the consuming fever." 
 
 " So I have heard you say before. Yet it seems hardly pos- 
 
180 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 sible that, under such a sky, and in such a scene, glorious but 
 now \Yith the splendor of the dying day, danger can lurk. We 
 are upon the upland." 
 
 " And therefore more exposed to the breath which breeds 
 the fever than if we were in the valley, or on a bit of dry 
 ground in the middle of a swamp. The places and the hours 
 most beautiful are here, like the tiger and the painted snake, 
 the most dangerous. In a night of storm you would run no 
 risk." 
 
 " But for all that, I cannot but admire the beauty of the 
 star-lit sky, as I see it from beneath the arms of the mighty 
 oak under which we rest, and feel the influence of the time 
 and scene." 
 
 " Tom," said Frangois, with decision, " we cannot afford to 
 have you laid up with the bilious fever, or even with the ague, 
 active or dumb ; therefore, a cup of whiskey, well-flavored with 
 the snake-root and the bitter bark of the wauhu, thence to bed 
 upon the green brush, wa^apped in a horseman's blanket, and 
 with your feet to the glowing fire." 
 
 " The dose is very unpalatable, Franyois, but I owe it to 
 Sassafras and you to be careful, so I'll take it." 
 
 The still night wore on. Tired by the exertions of the day, 
 satisfied by a full meal of venison, and all alone, as they 
 believed, the Englishman and the Frenchman, born of the 
 civilization of the west of Europe, where commerce, the sci- 
 ences, and the arts had made their home, while the owls and 
 foxes inherited the temples and palaces of the east, slept side 
 by side in the land of the stranger. It was past the hour of 
 twelve, the dead time of the night. The fire had burned low ; 
 there was no longer a blaze to cast its cheerful glare abroad 
 into the bushes. The slumber of the Englishman was less 
 profound, and through the restless brain there were visions 
 swiftly passing. He dreamed of home and some vague calamity ; 
 of fire on shipboard — " 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd 
 vault," — of Indian raids and midnight massacres ; he heard 
 the war-whoop ringing through the arches of the forest— saw 
 the wild riders rushing like a whirlwind over the prairie to 
 swoop down upon their prey. At leugth he awoke, and turned 
 upon his back. Looking down upon him as he lay there stood 
 a tall Indian, leaning on his gun. The young man sprang up 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 181 
 
 with a cry to Fran9ois. The Indiau, without moviDg, said in 
 broken English : 
 
 " What fears the Golden Bough ? The Cheyenne is his 
 friend. He looked upon the faces of those who slept, and they 
 were safe." 
 
 " Cinnamon," said FraD9ois, " as a friend we know you ; but 
 what brings you here to-night?" 
 
 " The friend of Sassafras from the great river and the 
 Golden Bough shall hear," replied the Indian. " But I will 
 call my companion." 
 
 He put his hand to his mouth, and uttered a peculiar cry. 
 An answer was heard at no great distance. In a few moments 
 there was a rustling of the bushes, and the young Kiowa, 
 painted as a brave upon his first war-path, came into the circle 
 of light. Francois started, and said : 
 
 " Has the chief of the Cheyennes made ready the battle- 
 axe, and prepared to loosen the arrow from the string of the 
 bone bow ?" 
 
 " No," replied the Indian, pointing to the youth ; " but the 
 Young Eagle of the Kiowas, who live among the lofty 
 mountains, whose horses drink above the Great Bend and of 
 the sweet waters of the great river of the South, was pursued 
 by Sassafras. The chief of the Cheyennes stayed the white 
 man's hand, and kept the Young Eagle from his grasp. Was 
 it good, Franyois ? Say, O ! Golden Bough, was it good ?" 
 
 " It was ; for Cinnamon is wise and just," said Francois. 
 *' Sassafras is his friend. They struck the Sioux together, and 
 they mingled with the dark waters of the river the blood of 
 the Blackfeet warriors." 
 
 " It is true," said the Indian. " In the morning Francois 
 and the Golden Bough shall turn upon their trail, and rejoin 
 Sassafras. The Wolverine and the Snake-Eyes have put a 
 cloud between Sassafras and the Cheyennes. With the Young 
 Eagle of the Kiowas I will rest by your fire till the sun has 
 risen over the great river, and touched the hill-tops. Is Cin- 
 namon welcome?" 
 
 " He is," replied Fran9ois, while Tom Scarlet took the hand 
 of the chief. The Frenchman added to Tom, " Mischief is 
 brewing through the acts of Staples. But that Sassafras, 
 knowing the man, should have listened to him, passes my com- 
 prehension." 
 
182 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " Ay, and Jagger too !" said Tom Scarlet. " The chief calls 
 him the Snake-Eyes, and mentioned him also." 
 
 " If Sassafras has allowed them to bring him into feud with 
 Cinnamon, he has gone crazy," said Fran9ois. " But I can- 
 not believe it ; I will not, unless he says so himself." 
 
 " The cloud will pass away," said the proud Cheyenne, " and 
 the dark shadow of the night give place to the brightness of 
 the ripening day. Let the Golden Bough tell me of his coun- 
 try beyond the great salt water ; of the home of his fathers, 
 and of the fair maiden of his love. Let the Indian of the 
 wide plains and lofty mountains hear of the island of the sea." 
 With this he filled his pipe and began to smoke, while the 
 young Kiowa, who had hitherto stood rather aloof, advanced 
 and seated himself by his side. 
 
 " Tom, do you amuse the chief!" said Francois. " He will 
 understand almost all you say. He has come, you see, to stop 
 the breeding of bad blood between himself and Sassafras. We 
 ■will all start back soon after it is light. While you interest 
 the chief, I will talk to the Young Eagle of the Kiowas." 
 
 " Franyois," said Cinnamon, " the eagle understands not the 
 cry of the hawk, or the call of the swan in the morning mist, 
 when the snow lies on the mountain tops. No white man, and 
 but few Indians of other tribes, have learned the tongue of 
 the Kiowas. Those you have heard talked the language of 
 the Comanches. The Young Eagle speaks only as his fathers 
 spoke ; his ears are open to no other tongue." 
 
 " That's true enough, as far as it goes," said Francois. " I 
 have always heard that mortal man, whether red, white or 
 black, could never master the lingo spoken by the Kiowas as 
 their own. Go on, Tom." 
 
 The young Englishman was always ready to talk of his 
 country and his friends. He now spoke of such things as he 
 believed to be most likely to interest the Indian and the white 
 hunter who heard him. The little island in the stormy seas, 
 with its white cliffs gleaming through the mist ; the beauties 
 of its hills and dales, its woods and pleasant homes ; its vast 
 population and inestimable wealth ; the stately buildings of 
 London ; the hoary edifices of Oxford, solemn and grand in 
 their venerable antiquity ; the princely country-houses and 
 parks, Blenheim and Stowe. And then he told of the enor- 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 183 
 
 mous commerce and possessions of vast extent all over the 
 globe ; of England's powerfid fleets ; of Y/aterloo, and the 
 Irish major, a friend of his own, who had lost an arm and won 
 a medal there ; of Sir Jerry and Lady Snaffle, and her 
 father, the fine old Admiral, who had sailed and fought all his 
 life ; of John Bullfinch, and his daughter May, and all the 
 pleasant walks about Hawkwell ; of his own home, the lone 
 Grange, near the wild heath ; of the green lanes and shady 
 nooks, where the gypsies camped, and he had often lingered 
 by the tents to play with the young children and laugh with 
 the dark-eyed maidens just come from the copse a-nutting. 
 And thus his tale and talk went on, as such do in many a hut 
 and tent in distant lands, and on the decks of many ships in 
 far-off waters, until the young Kiowa rose abruptly and broke 
 up the narrative by throwing a pile of brush on the fire. 
 
 When Sassafras found on the preceding night that it was 
 Cinnamon who held him in his grasp, and prevented him from 
 further pursuit of the Kiowa youth, he was surprised and a 
 little indignant. When the chief released him he demanded 
 an explanation, which was what the Indian could not give. 
 He pointed to the route the boy had taken, and said, with a 
 low voice : 
 
 " The son of the great chief of the Kiowas is the guest and 
 friend of the Cheyennes. He must be as safe as at his father's 
 side, with five hundred horsemen of his tribe around him. 
 Cinnamon must keep him from harm at the hand of Sassafras." 
 
 " Harm !" replied the latter ; " who wants to harm him ? I 
 think he should be made to mind his own business, that's all. 
 I wish he was safe enough with his father, whoever that may 
 be. I saw the great chief of the Kiowas, when he watered 
 his horses in the Red river, and I do not believe this sprig of 
 maple to be his son. Cinnamon, you are deceived in him ! 
 The boy is not what he seems, and I conceive that he is some 
 sort of a spy. He was lurking about to hear what passed 
 between Staples and me, not a quarter of an hour ago." 
 
 " Cinnamon is not deceived," replied the chief " I will 
 answer for this boy. My life is the pledge for his truth. Why 
 should you think he was there to listen ? The young Kiowa 
 understands no English." 
 
 " And I say this boy understands English as well as, if not 
 
184 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 better than, you do. He was hid in the brush, like a fox, 
 while I was talking with Staples, and it was not until the old 
 man had gone that he tried to steal in silence away." 
 
 " It was near your camp ! Sassafras, I think he wanted to 
 look upon the guest of my friend. He likes to see the Golden 
 Bough, the first Englishman he ever met, except the Snake- 
 Eyes, whom he despises. I will find out." 
 
 The chief went up the hill. Sassafras, somewhat angry, and 
 much perplexed, sought his tent for repose. 
 
 It was night again. After a busy day spent TN'ith Jules, 
 Black Dick and the favorite gray mare Virginia, the border 
 man sat by the fire in front of his tent. The night was clear 
 and star-lit, the air brisk and chilly. The half-breed boy from 
 the fort was at the shoulder of Sassafras, as the latter read and 
 re-read a brief note he had brought, 
 
 " You say Campau gave you this, Joe ? Did he send any 
 message about it, or about anybody ?" 
 
 " He say, ' Take this to Sassafras. Let him read alone and 
 do what is said.' " 
 
 "It is in the same hand, and comes from the same person as 
 the other letter you brought here, Joe." 
 
 " Yes, from Campau — he give it to me." 
 
 " Joe, is the young Kiowa with Campau ?" said Sassafras. 
 
 " He is not. I have not to-day seen him — nor yesterday. 
 I like not the Kiowa. His tribe killed my fader above the 
 Big Bend, because he was a white man, like you." 
 
 " Well, you'll be man enough to get even some of these 
 days," replied Sassafras. " The note makes a good sugges- 
 tion — one that I ought to have thought of before, whoever the 
 writer may be. I may take it, and better the instruction. 
 Joe, good-night. Tell no one you were here or that anybody 
 sent a letter from the fort." 
 
 The boy nodded and went silently off into the darkness, 
 with the footfall of a cat, and an eye as capable of seeing at 
 such times as those of the feline tribes, the night wanderers. 
 By the large but fading fire. Sassafras sat smoking and mus- 
 ing until it was near midnight. He was about to rise 
 and enter his tent, when his quick ear caught the tread of 
 horses on the saddle which joined the two hills, and formed 
 the background of the valley in which he had made his camp. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 185 
 
 It was a sound he never mistook, for from his earliest boy- 
 hood the step of the horse had been music in his ears. He 
 seized his rifle, withdrew into the shade, and awaited the new- 
 comers. As they approached, he found from the voices with 
 which they conversed in low and guarded tones, that the 
 horsemen were Francois and Tom Scarlet. 
 
 " Hail, friends ! why so soon returned ? Are there no deer 
 in the woods ? Does no track of elk point for the Neosho ?" 
 
 " There were deer, there were turkeys — the hunting would 
 have been good," replied Fran9ois, as they dismounted, " but. 
 Sassafras, we came back at the bidding of Cinnamon, who 
 reached us last night, after the turning of the time well to- 
 wards the coming day." 
 
 " Yes, we were sleej^ing by our fire," said Tom Scarlet. " I 
 had dreamed bad dreams, and when I awoke the Cheyenne 
 chief was looking down upon me as I lay." 
 
 "Ay!" exclaimed Sassafras. "But that I know the chief, 
 I might have thought such dreams would have been no worse 
 than the awakening by brand and beneath glittering steel. 
 Frangois, how was it that you let an Indian come upon your 
 camp in such a manner that he might have lifted your scalps 
 and gone again, unheard, unseen, as the light wind of the 
 night goeth ?" 
 
 " I knew you would say that," replied the Frenchman. " It 
 is provoking, and I do not think any one but Cinnamon could 
 have found our fire and come upon us unheard. I am a light 
 sleeper, and the rustle of the leaves by anything other than 
 the wind will awaken me. The truth is, we were tired by our 
 fast journey and a long hunt afterwards. I had no thought 
 that there was Indian or white man within many miles of us 
 when we laid down to rest." 
 
 "And Cinnamon brought you back ? For what purpose?" 
 
 " Speak, Tom ; you know what he said," replied Francois. 
 
 " I will," said Tom Scarlet. " He thought we ought to 
 return here. Sassafras, to remove a difference — a sort of mis- 
 understanding — which has arisen between you and him. He 
 says the Wolverine and the Snake-Eyes have put a cloud 
 before the eyes of his friend, and evil may come of it." 
 
 " The cloud is before his own eyes," said Sassafras. " I too 
 have been like one from whom things were hid by mist, but I 
 
186 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 now see the light through the breaks and rifts. Look here ! 
 This note, received by me a short time ago — two or three 
 hours — is signed by the name of Camj^au, but the hand is that 
 of the writer who sent us letters from New Orleans. This 
 letter-writer I believe to be the boy now masquerading here, 
 as if it was Mardi-gras, in the form of a youug Kiowa. He 
 raised the cloud between Cinnamon and me." 
 
 "Sassafras, it cannot be," said Fran9ois. "The young 
 Kiowa came with Cinnamon to our camp last night, and has 
 but now returned. We left them behind yonder hill, and I 
 doubt whether they have reached their own camp yet." 
 
 " Then I am again at sea," replied Sassafras. " I thought I 
 had it all clear before you came back, although I was told the 
 Kiowa had not been seen at the fort these two days. I am 
 now like the justice, when the last witness had involved the 
 case in contradiction and confusion. ' It was,' said his honor, 
 * plain enough until you thrust your spoke into the wheel to 
 bother the court and everybody else. I've a great mind to 
 fine and commit you for contempt.' But you must be tired 
 and hungry. Call the boys to look to your horses. Eat, 
 drink and rest. I will see the chief myself to-night. It 
 grows late, 
 
 "'But, notwithstanding, haste, make no delay: 
 We may complete this business yet ere day.'" 
 
 AVith this quotation on his lips, the borderer arose and 
 walked away. Tom Scarlet would have stopped him, but the 
 Frenchman interposed to prevent, saying it was better Sassa- 
 fras and the chief should meet speedily, and alone. He 
 ascended the hill with long strides, and overlooking from the 
 summit the fires of the Indians in the valley below he saw two 
 horsemen alight near the centre of the camp. Putting his 
 forefingers into his mouth, Sassafras whistled so loud and 
 shrill that the Cheyennes started from their slumbers, and the 
 echoes awoke among the neighboring hills. 
 
 " He comes !" said Cinnamon to the Kiowa youth. " It is 
 good. Let the Young Eagle go into the tent, and see not the 
 white warrior of the great river and the chief of the Chey- 
 ennes until tlie cloud between them has passed away !" 
 
 The youth made no reply, save by a pressure of the hand. 
 He moved ofi' to another tent, and entered it, before Sassafras 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 187 
 
 came np to the one near which Cinnamon stood. When these 
 two met they were both grave, it may be said dignified, for 
 the white man moved and spoke with conscious courage and 
 integrity ; while the Indian, with friendship and devotion 
 unimpaired, had also the sense of power. 
 
 " Sassafras is welcome to the camp of the Cheyennes," said 
 the chief. " It is his home — the home of his brother, whose 
 life he saved when the hatchet of the Sioux was swung." 
 
 " For the matter of that, Cinnamon, I owe my life twice 
 over to you," replied Sassafras. " But for your timely aid, 
 when my gun missed fire and the knife fell from my wounded 
 hand, my bones had been ground in the den of the great griz- 
 zly bear in the Rocky Mountains. And again, but for you 
 my scalp had been drying long ago in the smoke of a Black- 
 foot lodge, t'other side of Hell Gate Pass and the British 
 line." 
 
 " It's enough! We are friends ! We are brothers!" replied 
 Cinnamon. " I have said it, and sworn it by the head of the 
 Red Horse. The cloud has passed away. Sassafras has seen 
 the Golden Bough, for whose afl?airs the Cheyennes followed 
 their chief from the Fork of the Salmon. His enemies are 
 bad men. They are the enemies of Cinnamon and his young 
 men, and of Sassafras. Why should I not kill the Wolverine 
 and the Snake-Eyes before the sun pomes up from the hills 
 near the great river to look again upon his lands in the golden 
 w^est? We could then follow in his course." 
 
 It was not the first time Sassafras had heard something like 
 this proposition, but the Indian had never before come out so 
 « flat-footed," as the former called it. The truth was, the 
 chief was getting tired of inaction. A few sharp blows would 
 have pleased him much, and he could then have mustered his 
 band and turned their horses' heads toward the West with 
 great satisfaction. Sassafras, however, could not accede to this 
 method of settling the affair. As to Staples and Jagger, if it 
 became necessary to do so. Sassafras was fully resolved to " deal 
 with them in steel," as honest Touchstone hath it ; but his 
 present aim was to " overrun them with policy, and bandy 
 with them in treason." 
 
 "Cinnamon, it will not do; that is, not at present," said 
 he. " The work goes well. In four or five days we shall see 
 
188 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX. 
 
 the end. I think I shall win our -whole venture. If Staples 
 then chooses to draw and fight, he may. But he will not do 
 so. He fears you, and he fears me. His hope was to raise a 
 misunderstanding between us. That is futile. Those who 
 might venture to back him in some cases, will not do so here. 
 They are cowed by the presence of your band. The best of 
 them would wilt at the whoop of the wild Cheyennes when 
 your young men had their war-paint on." 
 
 The eye of the chief glowed proudly in the red light of the 
 fire, and yet he seemed to be a little disappointed that there was 
 no immediate chance of dealing with the AYolverine and the 
 Snake-Eyes, after his own summary plan. 
 
 *' Sassafras loves the Golden Bough as one of his own blood," 
 said he, after a pause. 
 
 " You may well think so, yet he is no kin to me, and five 
 months ago I had not seen him. But we met. He was a 
 stranger, in a strange land ; come over the great salt waters 
 which are wider than all the plains. He was open-hearted 
 and free-spoken. Wrong had been done him in his own coun- 
 try. The Golden Bough had been rifled and robbed of fair 
 fruit by the Snake-Eyes, and had followed him to this land. 
 To prevent more wrong and utter failure, I took upon myself 
 the guiding of this business, and sent to you to meet us here." 
 
 " It is good," said the .Indian. 
 
 " It is. You came, the best and boldest of the chiefs who 
 hunt upon the plains between the great river and the lofty 
 mountains of the Rocky range." 
 
 " I say that it is good," replied Cinnamon. " When the 
 Wolverine and the Snake-Eyes are beaten, and the Golden 
 Bough goes with his own again to the great salt water, let 
 Sassafras ride with me and ray young men towards the West. 
 The buffalo in autumn are plenty on my plains as the leaves 
 on the trees. The elk of my hills are big and fat ; their antlers 
 are tall. The evening sky is very red when the sun goes over 
 the tops of the great mountains. When the snow lies upon 
 the plains there is grass for our horses in the parks. My tent 
 is very warm in the frosty days of the winter. Let my friend 
 send his Frenchmen and his black men to Missouri with the 
 Golden Bough, and ride with me to my home in the West." 
 
 " Cinnamon, I should like it of all things, and next year I 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 189 
 
 will try to arrange my affairs so that I can spend the winter 
 with you," replied Sassafras. " We will hunt the grizzly bears 
 again, just before they retire to their inaccessible holds to lie 
 and sleep through the cold weather." 
 
 " My friend shall be welcome as the melting of the snows in 
 spring, when the sun shines warm and large," said the Indian. 
 
 " Then here good-night. We meet to-morrow," said Sassa- 
 fras, as he left the chief. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " Go, make thyself like a nymph o' the sea; be subject 
 To no sight but mine and thine." 
 
 THE plans of Sassafras had been changed in reference to 
 the race between the White Horse and the mare Virginia 
 by the note he received at night from the fort, and by the un- 
 expected but opportune return of Tom Scarlet and rran5ois. 
 Although it was very late when he returned from the Indian 
 camp, he was up soon after break of day, and arousing Tom 
 Scarlet and Frau9ois, he called them to a council in his tent. 
 ' " It is," said he, " a good thing that you have returned, for 
 though there was no need of any pacificators between Cinna- 
 mon and me, there will be use for Tom that I did not think 
 of. You must, however, be still unknown to Jagger, Staples, 
 and all their set." 
 
 " Then your interview with the chief was satisfactory to you 
 both !" said Tom Scarlet. 
 
 " Entirely so ; in fact, there has been no trouble between 
 the chief and me, except a little difference of opinion as to that 
 boy. We have been friends so long, and stood together in 
 such dangers and difficulties, that no little matter would bring 
 us to a quarrel, or even to a coolness." 
 
 " Did you see the Kiowa last night?" said Francois. 
 
 " Xo. Tell me, what did he say or do — how did he look 
 and act when at your camp ?" 
 
 " He said nothing. He talks neither English nor Cheyenne, 
 you know," replied Tom Scarlet. 
 
 '' I know it is so said, but I don't believe a word of it," said 
 Sassafras. " How did he look and act ?" 
 
190 TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 
 
 " He looked the same as before, but Fran9ois says he was in 
 Tvar-paint." 
 
 " War-paint ! What foolery is this ? I know that Cinna 
 mon isn't going to let him make war with me. I've a good 
 mind to arm young Joe, whose father was killed by the Kiowas 
 above the Great Bend, and let these two cockerells fight it 
 out !" 
 
 " It would be dangerous," said Franyois. 
 
 " It would," replied Sassafras. " If blood were once drawn 
 here, there is no knowing where the slaughter might stop. 
 Cinnamon himself proposed the killing of Staples and Jagger 
 last night. But why was the boy taken to your camp at all, 
 if he cannot understand what Cinnamon or anybody else says, 
 and nobody can understand him ?" 
 
 " We don't know," replied Tom Scarlet. " For my part, I 
 rather like the lad, and wish he could understand what I might 
 say to him. I have seen a smile under his paint and a grati- 
 fied look in his eye when I have made a kindly sign to him. 
 Last night, when I was talking about England, and my part 
 of the country, and friends at home, he sat by the side of Cin- 
 namon, muffled up in his blanket. But he was not asleep, for I 
 could see his eyes at times glowing like live coals as I told my 
 tale." 
 
 "Which he couldn't understand! Bah!" said Sassafras. 
 " But no more of him. Cinnamon says he's honest, and that's 
 enough for the present As he has left the fort for the camp, 
 you may enjoy more of his acquaintance, and commune to- 
 gether as the deaf and dumb do ; for you must abide with Cin- 
 namon until the race comes off. You have heard all about it 
 from the chief?" 
 
 " Yes ; that it is the mare against the White Horse, the 
 winner to have the two horses as well as the stakes. Sassa- 
 fras, I fear you have overmatched her. You don't know how 
 good the horse is." 
 
 " And you don't know how good the mare is, especially in 
 a second or third heat. Why, Tom, she'll win it easy. I don't 
 see how she can lose it, in the condition the horse will be. 
 When it is over, as your hunt has been cut short with Fran- 
 9ois, I'll take you on a hunt myself; and if we do not find 
 elk on this side of the Neosho, we will cross to the left bank. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 191 
 
 You shall have a set of antlers for Sir Jerry Snaffle's hall such 
 as was hardly ever seen in England, and another for the parlor 
 of John Bullfinch, that your lady-love may see the game \ve 
 sometimes follow in the West. Now to our immediate busi- 
 ness. I want you to answer me a few questions." 
 
 " As many as you please," said Tom. 
 
 " This Jagger gives out that he was a great tiirfman in Eng- 
 land. Is that so ?" 
 
 " Of course not. He laid a little money, as many men do 
 who can hardly tell a race-horse from a circus nag, and indeed 
 think the latter the better of the two. He was what we call * a 
 leg ;' that is, a rogue who cheats everybody he can, and is him- 
 self the fool and dupe of touts." 
 
 " Then he never won the Derby, running his horse under 
 another man's name ; never challenged for the Whip with this 
 White Horse, and had it resigned to him by the Duke of 
 Grafton, to the imminent danger of the life of the Duchess, 
 through sheer vexation ?" 
 
 « Derby ! Whip ! Does the villain say that?" 
 
 " Ay, does he ! and a great deal more. For instance, he 
 was sorry for the Duchess, a family connection of his own, 
 and brought the White Horse from England as a delicate way 
 of letting the Duke get possession of the Whip again. Now, 
 tell us what this Jagger really is." 
 
 « The biggest liar in all this land, for one thing," replied 
 Tom. " He was no horseman at home, and of no more use to 
 the turf than a rat is to a granary." 
 
 " Then he is not even a good rider — I mean in a race." 
 
 He ride a race — the humbu 
 
 " Just what I thought, Tom ; but he means to ride the White 
 Horse in this match." 
 
 " I wish it was a steeple-chase, so that he would have a fine 
 chance to break his neck." 
 
 " That might save the hangman some trouble one of these 
 days," said Sassafras, " unless he should hear the war-whoop 
 of the Cheyennes some fine night, and get frightened to death 
 while his neck is whole. Did he ever ride a race in England 
 of any sort ?" 
 
 " Certainly not ! No trainer would let such a muff get on a 
 race-horse, eVen if it was but to run for -a saddle and bridle en 
 
192 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 some common at a country fair. He may have Keen in the 
 hunting-field a few times, for all sorts of people go out with 
 the hounds. But I'll bet a hundred to ten that May Bullfinch 
 would ' pound ' him in ten minutes over our grass lands and 
 stiff fences. He is an arrant imposter^that sort of bragging, 
 vaporing fellow who disgraces Old England in foreign lands." 
 
 " In the minds of the inconsiderate only," said Sassafras ; 
 " for reasonable men do not impute the follies of a blockhead 
 and the lies of a false knave to his country, whatever his 
 country may be. I have heard some Americans go on in the 
 West Indies in such a way that I was almost mad enough to 
 pistol 'em, or at least to knock 'em in the head and silence 
 'em for a while; but I never thought the worse of my country, 
 or my countrymen, on account of the braying of such native 
 jackasses as these. Therefore do not mind Jagger. He may 
 disgrace himself — England never. How did the man get 
 hold of such a stallion as the White Horse ?" 
 
 " By some transaction with a party who was hard up, and 
 about to sponge out accounts by going through the insolvent 
 debtors' court. I don't believe he was ever on his back in 
 England. He can't ride a bit. Let me ride the mare. Sassa- 
 fras. It'll be the richest go that ever was for me to ride Vir- 
 ginia ; for I'll manage it so that the White Horse shall run 
 away with Jagger, and perhaps bolt the course and get dis- 
 tanced." 
 
 " What's your weight ?" 
 
 "I can ride ten stone five with my saddle, to-day, just as I 
 stand." 
 
 " Very well ! You must toddle up and down the hill at the 
 back of Cinnamon's camp and get that five pounds off. The 
 mare carried a hundred and thirty pounds yesterday in her 
 work and went like a bird. Nobody knows what she had up 
 but me and Black Dick besides yourselves, and of course 
 nobody is to know. Dick was cased in lead, a Black Knight 
 in armor. The mare, though alone, was very free — went 
 right up to the bit. In fact she was almost too free, consider- 
 ing that she is a slack goer when there is nothing with her. I 
 watch changes of that sort. When a horse has not done well, 
 and there is an alteration in his way of going, I like it. It 
 indicates improvement. But when a known good one, that is 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 193 
 
 in fair condition, changes the style of running, I have my 
 doubts. It may indicate an improvement, but it may be a 
 sign of the reverse. However, the mare always went more 
 freely after she had a race in her ; and she knows as w^ell as I 
 do that there is another soon to come off." 
 
 " I'll see her gallop to-morrow," said Tom Scarlet. 
 
 " You may, but it must be from a tree-top," replied Sassa- 
 fras. " If Jagger should see you now and recognise you, all 
 our plans might fail. It is true the match is play or pay, but 
 we will avoid all dispute, or wrangle, until it is run. To that 
 end I shall let them believe that they have got the best of it, 
 and avoid showing my own hand until the start. You see, 
 the people at the fort have behaved very ^vell, and the man- 
 ager and Campau are my friends. A row and a fight would 
 be against their interests ; and, as I said before, there is no 
 knowing how red the tomahawks of the Cheyennes would 
 be before it ended, if it once began. Therefore, you must go 
 to the Indian camp within an hour, and stay there as an In- 
 dian until I send for you." 
 
 " I can see no need for it ; I can keep close here, and then 
 you know I can look over the mare every time she gallops. I 
 have had experience, and am a fair judge of condition as 
 work goes on." 
 
 "I am sure you are; but nevertheless it is necessary that 
 you leave the mare to me, and just reduce your weight five 
 pounds," said Sassafras. " I have a presentiment that Staples 
 or Jagger, perhaps both, will pay me a visit to-morrow ; be- 
 sides which, that fellow Keeps lurks and pries about here as 
 if he suspected something. Now, he will take good care not 
 to go near Cinnamon's camp ; so you must become an Indian." 
 
 " That is not possible. I can be no Indian, even in outward 
 appearance. But I have no objection to stay with the chief 
 if he will give me his hospitality. I consider disguise unne- 
 cessary." 
 
 " And I say it is altogether necessary to the success of my 
 plans, and a proper precaution. I shall want you here just 
 before the race, and in the guise and paint of an Indian, you 
 can visit the fort as well with Cinnamon. Campau knows 
 something of the scheme, and so does Pierre Langlois. Come, 
 Fran9ois, get you paints and dyes and razor. Ked enough he 
 13 
 
194 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 is already, but not of the real coppery tinge of the Indians of 
 the plains and mountains. Scarlet by name, scarlet by nature ! 
 Perhaps descended from Robin Hood's bold bowman. Will of 
 Sherwood Forest. An ancestor to be proud of! Tom, I had 
 as lieve be descended from one of Robin's merry men as ' fetch 
 my life and being from men of royal siege.' Go to work, 
 Frangois. Off with those whiskers. Get your walnut dye 
 for his hands and arms, neck and face, and your pigment for 
 his hair. You can make him an Indian good enough for our 
 use in half an hour." 
 
 " I don't fancy this notion," said Tom. " I would much 
 rather go as I am. Besides, I shall never be able to impose 
 upon the Indians, and they may take it ill. I may find it 
 easier to go into their camp in disguise, than to get out again. 
 The chief himself sometimes has the look of a bloodhound 
 asleep with his eyes half open, and then again there shoot 
 such lightning glances from under his brows, that they almost 
 seem to scorch what they fall upon. He is a good man, no 
 doubt, but his virtues are those of a savage. You say he pro- 
 posed to kill Staples and Jagger last night, as a ready, simple, 
 natural way of settling affairs ?" 
 
 " So he did ! What then ?" 
 
 " He has not been consulted in this matter, and it may offend 
 him." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind. Your appearance in the paint of 
 the tribe will please the chief and all his band instead of of- 
 fending them. Man alive ! you don't know the Indians. They 
 all like the Golden Bough, and will take it as a compliment. 
 Besides, it will please the young Kiowa from the Southwest, 
 and most likely get you an invitation to visit his father in the 
 mountains. That's a smart boy, Kiowa or no Kiowa, and I'll 
 bet a trifle he don't go from here until we are better ac- 
 quainted." 
 
 Fran9ois confirmed what Sassafras said in regard to the re- 
 ception by the Cheyennes, and then Tom Scarlet put on leggings 
 and moccasins and a hunting-shirt, and suffered the French- 
 man to do as he would. Francois was an expert artist. He 
 had taste and skill, and in half an hour he had effected such 
 a change in the appearance of the young Englishman that 
 there was no i)robability of his recognition by Jagger or any 
 one else who might meet him by accident, AVhile the meta- 
 
THE WmrE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 195 
 
 morphosis was in progress, Sassafras sat Id front of Tom and 
 gave Fraugois such hints and advice as a connoisseur may offer 
 to a painter when he is putting the last finishing touches to a 
 picture. The transformation completed, Sassafras rose and 
 surveyed his plumed and painted friend with much care and 
 gravity. 
 
 " I believe it will do," said he. " The skin is a leetle too 
 dark, to my mind, and the hair a leetle too shiny, but there 
 are worse-looking Indians about here by a mighty sight. The 
 paint is beautiful ! beautiful ! The Cheyennes will be delighted. 
 On the whole, Tom makes a good Indian of the Western 
 plains, having the proper bow in the legs, the result of being 
 a fine horseman. Taken altogether, the get-up is like the 
 acting of the fellows who play the fool in the circusses which 
 travel the States — too natural. But it will do. Come along 
 now, and we wi]l breakfast with the chief and his young friend 
 from the Southwest." 
 
 When they reached the Cheyenne camp, it was easily per- 
 ceived that the Indians knew who the man in the paint and 
 feathers of their tribe was. This partly arose from his arrival 
 in company with Sassafras and Franyois. The red men seemed 
 pleased, and a little amused. Tom Scarlet immediately de- 
 clared that the disguise was futile, as everybody seemed to know 
 him. 
 
 " Every Cheyenne, you mean," said Sassafras, " which is 
 natural. They know you are not one of themselves well enough ; 
 but neither Jagger nor any other stranger would easily dis- 
 cover that fact. They see you with us, too, and that accounts 
 for their actually and readily identifying you." 
 
 By this time they had reached the tent of the chief. Cin- 
 namon came out, and welcomed them, taking Tom Scarlet by 
 the hand, and laying his palm upon his shoulder. The young 
 Kiowa avoided them, going off as they came up, with his head 
 down, towards a clump of bushes which was near at hand. 
 Tom Scarlet thought the youth was shy, and had therefore 
 gone away to evade a meeting with a strange Indian, or that 
 he had perhaps left the tent through dislike of Sassafras. 
 The latter had no such idea. He looked keenly at the youth 
 as he walked away, and was convinced that he was merely 
 seeking a place in v.hich to give vent to laughter he was almost 
 unable to suppress- wht-re he was. 
 
196 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 " Now, whether he kill Cassio, 
 
 Or Cassio him, or each do kill the other, 
 Every way makes my gain." 
 
 MORNING came again, lighting up the woods and shedding 
 a golden lustre in the dells and nooks which oj^ened to- 
 wards the east. Sassafras was early afoot, meditating an import- 
 ant move in the game of strategy he had begun to play against 
 Staples and Jagger. He called for Black Dick, and taking him 
 apart from the other men, gave him such directions, in a few brief, 
 emphatic sentences, as raised the kinks upon the darkey's bul- 
 let head, and caused his one eye to assume dimensions ap- 
 proaching that of a Cyclops, while the white of it, in strong 
 contrast with the sooty-black hue of his face, indicated alarm, 
 or enterprise of pith and moment. The other negroes were 
 all ready for duty, and leaving Fran9ois and Jules in charge 
 of the camp. Sassafras proceeded with the gray mare and her 
 sable train to the race-course. She was prepared for her work, 
 and with a countenance of more than usual gravity, a face 
 W'hich might have been likened to one carved upon a block 
 of ebony. Black Dick mounted. After her canter, she went 
 a mile and a half at three-quarter speed. This \Yas done in 
 the most satisfactory manner; and then she was sent a rattling 
 two-mile gallop at nearly her best rate. 
 
 A group of men stood in front of the fort while all this was 
 going on. They took great interest in the proceedings. Sorne 
 remarked that Sassafrass worked his horses very hard, and 
 took almost too much out of them before the race. The gen- 
 eral verdict, however, was to the effect that the mare was very 
 fit, and never went better. But when she was pulled up on 
 the back-stretch of the course, where Sassafras and her attend- 
 ants were standing, it was plain that something out of the 
 ordinary course had occurred. There was a running to and 
 fro by the negroes. The mare's saddle was hastily taken off, 
 and waving back the man who proffered the bucket and sponge 
 to him. Sassafras went upon his knee and passed his hand sev- 
 
TUE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 197 
 
 eral times down over the back tendon of her off fore leg. 
 The spectators at the fort saw all this plainly enough ; but 
 when she was blanketed and led away towards her owner's 
 camp by Black Dick, they were unable to see whether she was 
 lame, as Sassafras and the negroes followed her in close array. 
 Ominous nods and whispers were, however, exchanged by these 
 on-lookers, those who had previously mentioned the hard- 
 working system followed by Sassafras saying to the others : 
 " I told you so !" Before the mare had been gone from the 
 course ten minutes Staples had been informed of what had hap- 
 pened, with the usual embellishments and exaggerations, and 
 had sent for Keeps. That worthy was not far off. He and 
 the captain had a consultation, in which the latter delivered 
 certain instructions to his man. In pursuance of these the 
 latter set out for the camp of Sassafras by a roundabout route, 
 taking care to avoid the tents of the Cheyennes and the woods 
 in which they were strolling and shooting at marks. Arrived 
 near the camp of the Western man, Keeps lurked about, con- 
 cealed by the bushes, for some time, but at last got speech 
 with one of the negroes. The latter was a stout fellow, with a 
 wooden look and a vacant stare. He was commonly regarded as 
 a very thick-headed darkey, with little or none of the cunning 
 and acuteness so often possessed by his race and hidden under 
 a stolid exterior. From this apparently dull and obtuse negro 
 Keeps extracted the intelligence, given with much circumlo- 
 cution and digression, that the mare had pulled up lame at 
 the end of her two-mile gallop, and that Sassafras, Fran§ois 
 and Black Dick were fomenting her off fore leg. On receipt 
 of this important piece of news the captain's henchman swore 
 an oath or two of some force, whether expressive of satisfac- 
 tion or of disappointment and regret was uncertain, for Keeps 
 was accustomed to mark any and every sentiment in this 
 manner. Leaving the dull darkey without ceremony, he set 
 off at his best rate to communicate with his employer. The 
 venerable captain, having heard Keeps to the end, seemed to 
 be involved in doubt and unprepared to come to any decision 
 in this crisis. He wanted time for consideration, and perhaps 
 for the gathering of more facts touching the nature and extent 
 of the injury the mare had suffered. 
 
 ** Keeps," said he, " say nothing of this at present. There 
 
198 'l^'i^E WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 are plenty of people to do the talking, Keeps — too many ; for 
 the world grows more given to gabbiiug and spouting every 
 day. You and I are men of action. You had better not 
 mention what you and I know to Mr. Grosvernor. He is now 
 upon the course with his White Horse, and will hear nothing 
 but what you can represent as a vague rumor, most likely 
 started by Sassafras himself to get long odds. If he should 
 once find that the mare is broke down, the Englishman will 
 get so uncommon bumptious that we shall be able to do 
 nothing with him — nothing at all." 
 
 The worthy captain then took Keeps into his shanty, and 
 produced a large demijohn of old Bourbon whiskey, which 
 liaving been taken from the beautiful blue-grass lands of 
 Kentucky, down the Ohio and the Mississippi to New Orleans, 
 and up again to the Arkansas, and along that stream, had 
 acquired such excellence and flavor that it was kept for its 
 owner's private use and entertainment. Of this golden and 
 oily but potent spirit the captain treated his henchman to a 
 cup before he dismissed him. When Keeps was gone, the 
 veteran sat upon a barrel, in the midst of old horse-clothes, 
 saddles, bridles, rusty bits, and empty kegs, smelling strongly 
 of the distilled juice of Indian corn, and pondered over the 
 change which had suddenly come about in the state of afiairs. 
 At first he was cheerful, not to say gay. Pouring out a large 
 dram, he quaffed it with a relish, and with a sense of congrat- 
 ulation on the fact that he had carefully avoided committing 
 himself to a partnership with Sassafras in the pending match. 
 " I look before 1 leap," said he. " Sassafras, and the fools 
 and blackguards of that age, may go it with a rush — the whole 
 hog, as they say at Cincinnati — but none of that for the old 
 man !" 
 
 But in the midst of his satisfaction over the fact that he was 
 not " in" with Sassafras, he recollected that he was not " in" 
 with Jagger either. As things were likely to turn out this 
 was a manifest matter of regret ; and besides, the domineering, 
 boasting spirit of the latter was sure to be augmented and 
 inflamed if his horse beat the mare from whom the captain's 
 best racer had lately suffered defeat. Of late these worthies 
 had begun to discuss politics, and had as often quarrelled over 
 the institutions of their respective countries. The captain was 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 199 
 
 all for republican goverDment, and very dogmatic m his asser- 
 tions, which he called his reasons. Jagger was voluble in 
 praise of monarchical institutions. He took under his pro- 
 tection the king, the aristocracy, and the church, especially 
 the last, and the bishops, one of whom, he said, was his brother- 
 in-law. The captain did not like bishops, had " no use for 
 'em," and 'his opinion of brothers-in-law was not high, but the 
 reverse. So the captain saw the almost absolute necessity of 
 getting " in" with Jagger ; but with all his fertility of inven- 
 tion and unscrupulousuess he was at fault as to the means. 
 If he could hit upon a plan whereby Sassafras and Jagger 
 might both be brought to grief he would be happy. The 
 former was a villain, bold and desperate, who ought to be 
 undone. The latter was a minion of the crown, w^ho ought to 
 be despoiled, and his money employed by a good republican 
 for the public benefit. But no expedient, even for the bringing 
 about of a partnership with Jagger, presented itself just then 
 to the captain's mind, and he felt like one about to be defrauded 
 of his rights and deprived of his substance. Should such 
 things be ? The venerable captain thought not, if he could 
 help it. The mare was lame ! The fate of the horse was in 
 his own hands, for he could enter his stable at any moment. 
 Yet he was about to lose the bountiful harvest springing from 
 seed scattered by two fools by the way, for want of a device 
 by which to reap and bind it. The captain felt that he was 
 an injured man, and w^as highly disgusted with the situation. 
 There was, however, no apparent remedy, since it was not in 
 the nature of things that the fools and rogues who had made 
 the match and carried it on without consulting him could both 
 lose it. 
 
 In the middle of the forenoon, having brought his fruitless 
 cogitations to a close, the captain determined to pay a visit 
 to the camp of the Western man. He walked across the 
 prairie and up the little valley in which it lay. Sassafras was 
 nowhere to be seen, but Black Dick was seated on a rock at 
 the base of the eastern hill, looking more glum, more solemn 
 and more black, if that were possible, than usual. Over to 
 him the captain walked, and when within a few paces, said : 
 
 " Halloo, you Dick ! what are you all about here ? Where's 
 Sassafras, you black rascal ?" 
 
200 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 "Ober dar," replied Dick, pointing to the stable of the 
 mare. 
 
 " And what's the matter with you ?" said Staples. " You 
 look as sulky as a lone bull driven from the herd." 
 
 " T'ink I ought, when I get licked for nothing," replied 
 Dick, in his sulkiest tone. " 'Cause 'e mar' slip and pull up 
 lame, Sassafras git mad and lick 'e darkey like eberyting." 
 
 " Ah ! he whipped you on account of the accident to the 
 mare. Now, that was wrong, very wrong, Dick. It was un- 
 just and I hate injustice. I never whip my boys without 
 good reason, as I tell 'em ; but there's very few such masters 
 as me. In fact, my only fault as regards them boys is, that 
 I am too indulgent. Sassafras is different. I'm sure this 
 wasn't your fault, Dick. I have always said you were the 
 best rider in the country, and a pattern for other boys. Is 
 this matter serious, and how did it happen ? Is she broke 
 down ?" 
 
 " Can't tell," replied Dick, looking down. " Felt her falter 
 at de t'ree-quarter pole. Jest afo' de gallop was finish felt her 
 let down. I t'ink she break down in de off fo' leg. Sassafras 
 got mad 'cause I didn't pull up afo', and gave me an awful 
 lickin'." 
 
 " It's jest like Sassafras, but all wrong," replied the captain. 
 " I shall tell him so. He was wrong to lick you." 
 
 " He lick somebody else afo' long," said Dick, with an 
 ominous look. " 'Fore God, captain, I uebber see him so mad 
 as he is now since dat ar' time when he kill de t'ree men what 
 murdered his father and brother !" 
 
 " I've heard of that. It was a bad and bloody business. 
 You think he feels like that now, eh ?" 
 
 " Am berry sure he does," replied Dick. 
 
 " Well, I must see him, for all that," said Staples, walking 
 slowly away towards the light log-stable of the unfortunate 
 gray mare. 
 
 The black looked after him, but furtively, seeming to think 
 that he might turn around. Once the wide mouth of the 
 negro was opened so as to display all the white teeth which 
 guarded the red cavern within, but he closed his lips again 
 firmly, and the single bright eye was again dropped to the 
 grass at his feet. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 201 
 
 Tho old man neared the stable, and glanced around. Enter- 
 ing without notice to whoever might be inside, he found Sas- 
 safras leaning against the side of the building, and watching 
 his favorite mare as she ate a feed of oats and hominy wetted 
 down into a cold mash. Whatever injury there might be to 
 what her owner called " the running tackle," it was plain that 
 Virginia had not suffered any to her constitutional appetite ; 
 for she was feeding with a relish which bordered on voracity. 
 Her fore legs were in red-flannel bandages, and it was plain to 
 the captain that in the off one there was an enlargement 
 between the knee and the ankle joint. Sassafras took no 
 notice of his visitor. The old man glanced from the mare to 
 her master, and his eye fell upon the rifle which stood against 
 the logs, ready to the hand of the borderer. It was a time lor 
 caution. The venerable captain knew that whenever his 
 young friend was in an ugly mood he always had that formi- 
 dable weapon with him, together with a brace of pistols and 
 a long knife. It was a trait of the man that whenever things 
 went wrong, and friends, horses and luck seemed to fail him, 
 he straightway took to his arms, and hugged them close, as if 
 drawing composure of mind and strength of resolution from 
 the steel of which they were composed. Another minute or 
 two passed, when Sassafras, without turning to look at Sta- 
 ples, said : 
 
 "You have come now when the mischief is done, like a 
 raven to a dying horse. I fear the jig is up for the present. 
 The music has got to be paid for; and we must get out of the 
 hobble the best way we can." 
 
 " We, Sassafras ! who is we ?" said the captain. " I ain't 
 in with you in this business, you know." 
 
 " What d'ye mean by that ?" replied Sassafras. " You w^ere 
 to give your answer in three days, if you declined to take a 
 hand, and the fifth is now half gone." 
 
 " You mistook the matter," said the captain. " I was to let 
 you know if I ivould go in, not if I wouldn't. I certainly am 
 not ' i/i' at present, but I may be after all. Let me have a 
 look at the mare's leg. This may be a trifle." 
 
 " Look away ! I shall not take the bandage off for anybody ; 
 but you may see her walk, if you like." 
 
 The captain did like, since he could see no more. In a few 
 
202 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 minutes, when Virginia had finished her feed, Sassafras put a 
 bridle on her and taking her outside led her up and down 
 before the stable. 
 
 " What do you think of it ?" said he. 
 
 " She walks quite lame. I could form a better opinion if I 
 saw her leg with the bandage off. The best way will be to 
 gallop her a mile to-morrow morning, and see whether she 
 stands up or not. We shall then know the worst." 
 
 " Ay ! and the Englishman would know the worst too, and 
 insist upon the full stake. She will gallop no more until she 
 strips for the race, if she ever runs it." 
 
 *' Suit yourself," replied Staples. " You asked for my opin- 
 ion : you have had it. The business is on your sole account. 
 I ain't in it in any shape or form." 
 
 " You said, suit yourself," returned Sassafras, as he led the 
 mare back into her stable. " Now I say, you suit yourself. The 
 case is far from desperate, though it might be made so if I 
 galloped her to-morrow morning. She has had plenty of 
 strong work, and the let-up of a day will do more good than 
 harm to her condition. I have two things to try. By means 
 of one I may yet win ; for that horse can't repeat, if the pace 
 is strong in the first heat. He's too fat inside." 
 
 " He may be a little fat inwards," said the captain, who 
 knew that Sassafras was the best judge of condition of all the 
 racing men he knew. 
 
 *' By the other," said Sassafras, " I shall avoid much loss, 
 even if I conclude not to start her." 
 
 " And what may these things be?" said Staples. 
 
 " The first is a kind of liniment and spell confided to me by 
 Black Dick's great-grandmother, who was a Voodhoo woman 
 raised in Africa, and one of mighty power. She warranted it 
 to cure anything less than a broken leg in twenty-four hours, 
 Avith rest. It's on the mare's back tendon now, and I have 
 great faith in it." 
 
 " It might be of some avail, if she was a real Voodhoo 
 'omau ; but. Sassafras, you know as well as I do that most of 
 'em are impostors, and have no power for good or harm — only 
 the ignorant and superstitious darkeys think they have. Now 
 I am neither superstitious nor credulous, and I ain't going to 
 believe that Dick's great-grandmother was a real Voodhoo 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX. 203 
 
 'oman, having established dealings with the African devil, he- 
 cause she said so. What proof is there that she had power?" 
 
 " This liniment," replied Sassafras, " which has never failed, 
 and it will not fail now. Don't you know that as long as I 
 have had race-horses none of mine ever broke down ?" 
 
 " Well, I have heard as much," said Staples. " But if it 
 was the Voodhoo liniment that kept 'em up, you'd better have 
 had 'em break down as often as I have. Sassafras. I call it 
 irreligious to use the African things and Voodhoo spells ; by 
 G — d, I wouldn't do it, if I was you." 
 
 " But I will, though. If the devil himself was to rise, and 
 show me how to save a good race-horse from the misery and 
 fatality of a breakdown, I think I would follow his instruc- 
 tions." 
 
 " Well ! well ! never mind the Voodhoo. I know you'll 
 have your own way. What is the other thing you men- 
 tioned ?" 
 
 " It is this," replied Sassafras. " If I find at the end of the 
 next twenty-four hours that the leg is no better, I will go to 
 Mr. Grosvernor, and propose to pay a moderate forfeit, stating 
 that though Virginia may be able to run, I do not want to ex- 
 pose her to the risk of a breakdown." 
 
 " A good idea this," said Staples, with a sarcastic grin. " As 
 it's a play-or-pay match, he's sure to agree to the proposition, 
 when he knows that your mare is on three legs." 
 
 " Why, a gentleman of England," said Sassafras, " connected 
 with the nobility, a man of great wealth and high degree, with 
 no end of money, and mines and cofiee plantations in the Lee- 
 ward Islands and on the Spanish Main, is sure to do so. Don't 
 you see, it's in character ?" 
 
 " To be sure it is !" replied Staples. " And, this being the 
 case, and everything so satisfactory, you needn't want me ' in,' 
 and I ain't in. Try out the Voodhoo spell and liniment, and, 
 if the mare is not as sound as a Mexican dollar to-morrow, 
 rely upon the generosity of the English gentleman. I'm so 
 convinced of his having that quality in abundance that I've a 
 good mind to go and ask him to give me five or six hundred 
 dollars." With this the captain left. 
 
 It seemed probable the next day that the Voodhoo charm 
 had failed. In fact, the horseshoes in and about the stables 
 
204 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 may have destroyed its efficacy ; for it is well known that 
 spells and incantations are rendered of no avail by the exhi- 
 bition of such articles ; and it is admitted that the Voodhoo 
 rites are intended to propitiate the evil one, and secure a grant 
 of power from him to be exercised on earth. Be this as it 
 may, Keeps succeeded in learning from the thick-headed dar- 
 key, in a brief, stolen interview, such news that he hastened 
 to give Captain Staples the benefit of it. It was to the effect 
 that the gray mare was no better ; that Black Dick had been 
 compelled to hide in the woods for fear of serious injury from 
 Sassafras ; that the latter was savage as a mad bull, or a 
 baited bear ; that he had picked a quarrel with the Cheyenne 
 chief, which would have been fought out upon the spot but for 
 the intervention of Campau and Pierre Lauglois, who had 
 been sent for by Francois when he found that mischief was 
 brewing. The last item of the news in catalogue was that the 
 whole party had gone to the fort at nightfall, and were there 
 drinking deeply. 
 
 The good old man was somewhat surprised and a little 
 moved by this intelligence. When he had left Sassafras the 
 day before he had seemed rather hopeful than desperate — 
 rather pacific than furious. He saw the probability that if 
 he met him at the fort while he was inflamed with rage and 
 whiskey a broil would be brought on ; and, remembering the 
 sharp and sudden fate which overtook the three men who 
 killed the father and brother of Sassafras, the captain sagely 
 determined to keep away. 
 
 " Keeps," said he, " the fit comes on him now and again, as 
 it does on a mad dog. It will be better for you and me and 
 Kirby to steer clear of him to-night. He is a bloody-minded 
 man when he takes these fits. Double dangerous, as them 
 insurance people called it, who never paid when my property 
 was burned up down the river, and, indeed, said it was done 
 a-purpose. He's desperate and a villain, with no love of God 
 and no fear of the devil. Practising of the Voodhoo, which 
 you know is irreligious, when not a cheat and fraud." 
 
 "Captain," said Keeps, "if I was you I would not mention 
 the Voodhoo just at present, if there's any chance of blood- 
 letting about here." 
 
 " Why, you don't believe in it, Keeps ?" 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 205 
 
 " I'm d — d if I don't then, to a certain extent ; and if you 
 want to talk about it at all, it'll be a good deal better to speak 
 well of it." 
 
 " Dou you believe it can do any good — to the mare's leg, 
 for instance?" 
 
 " I don't think it can, but it may do a sight of harm to 
 somebody before long. All Sassafras's niggers agree that 
 Black Dick's great-grandmother was a real Voodhoo 'oman, 
 and we will let that pass." 
 
 " Well, you see, if we go where he is, he is sure to raise a 
 row, and it will not pay expenses to fight him here. We will 
 let him alone. In default of anybody else to quarrel with, he 
 may have another difficulty with the Cheyenne chief. If he 
 should fight Cinnamon and get killed, it would be a pleasant 
 thing for all good people. If he should kill the Indian it 
 would be better still, for a redskin I have no use for would 
 be out of the way, and the other Cheyennes would have the 
 scalp of the slayer before to-morrow sundown, as sure as your 
 name is Keeps. That is how the thing stands." 
 
 " That is how it seems to stand ; but still I should like to 
 know what goes on among them yonder ; and I think it would 
 be of some service," replied Keeps. " Campau, coming from 
 St. Jo., has much influence with Sassafras, and may quiet him 
 so as to hatch up some sort of a plot. They have these western 
 Indians under their control, and there is no telling what they 
 may contrive before to-morrow." 
 
 " I will take care to learn a little of what goes on," said 
 Staples. " We will stay away. But I will get Mr. Grosvernor, 
 who is my partner in the match, to go in and mingle with 
 them." 
 
 " Then you are not afr,aid of his being killed," said Keeps, 
 with significant emphasis. 
 
 " Not much," replied the captain. " He is not a fighting 
 man. Sassafras could ofter no excuse for such a thing." 
 
 " Besides which, all his money and eflfects would be left in 
 your hands," said Keeps ; " and then again, as he is a gentle- 
 man of high family and station, with noble connections among 
 the dukes, bishops and what not, the British might take it, up 
 and bring on the next war, if anything of that sort happened 
 to him." 
 
206 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 The venerable captain did not altogether like the tone of 
 irony with which his henchman delivered this. 
 
 " You take this drink of the old particular," said he, handing 
 Keeps a cup of whiskey, " and then go and send Mr. Grosver- 
 nor and Kirby to me. That fellow is too smart by half," he 
 added, when Keeps had left the shanty. " He knows too 
 much, which I have noticed is not a sign of long life in these 
 parts. He don't take what I say upon trust, and he believes 
 Jagger is not the man he holds himself out to be. Kow, Kirby, 
 honest fellow% is easily satisfied ; but he is so bull-headed, that, 
 for anything other than main strength and stupidness, I have 
 to employ this cunning fox, Keeps. However, the fellow is 
 useful ; and having been well-blooded in fights on the river, 
 and sent three or four to their last accounts, he will not be apt 
 to stick at trifles, if real, thorough work is called for." With 
 this, the captain poured out and drank a good dose of his 
 especial medicine. 
 
 It might have been an hour after this when Jagger strutted 
 into the large store-room of the fort, in which Sassafras, Cinna- 
 mon, and others were drinking. The former had been informed 
 by the captain that Virginia was broken down, and literally 
 standing on three legs. He had also received many cautions 
 and instructions from the old man as to what he should do, 
 but all these Jagger was determined to disregard. Treating 
 with contempt the assurance that it might be dangerous to ex- 
 asperate Sassafras in his present state of mind, he gave full 
 swing to his domineering disposition and love of vulgar tri- 
 umph. A coward at heart, but a fool in head, and ^ell primed 
 with liquor, he was rash to a degree ; and the taunts he in- 
 flicted on his opponent were such that most of the friends of 
 the latter w^ere surprised at the foi^bearance with which he suf- 
 fered them. In fact, the Indian, Cinnamon, although appar- 
 ently unmoved, was more excited than Sassafras himself; and, 
 after Jagger's most oftensive boasts, looked at him with such 
 a concentrated gleam of white light as is seen in the eye of the 
 royal tiger when he is about to spring. Had Jagger seen the 
 Indian's face at these times, it might have subdued his vaunt- 
 ing spirit, and caused him to moderate his insolent manifesta- 
 tions of superiority ; for there was something in its savage 
 ferocity which would have appalled him. But he looked at 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 207 
 
 Sassafras alone — talked only to him, and drank deeply from 
 time to time of the fiery ^vhiskey -which the traders dispensed 
 to the rude hunters and Indians at the fort. The Western 
 man remained silent during most of Jagger's long harangue. 
 He looked down, and his foolish opponent believed that he had 
 lost heart, and was cowed and broken by the misfortune which 
 had befallen him. To Jagger this was a reason for ostentatious 
 triumph and unbridled exultation. It may be doubted whether 
 the barbarous forefathers of the Indian chief ever tortured a 
 captive at the stake with more zest and less feeling than Jag- 
 ger displayed in taunting Sassafras, and accusing him of ig- 
 norance and stupid presumption, amounting to moral insanity, 
 in pitting himself against one experienced and renowned upon 
 the English turf. At last the border man made a sort of faint 
 reply, or rather protest. 
 
 " Mr. Grosvernor," said he, " did you overcrow your noble 
 relatives, the Duke and Duchess of Grafton, in this way, when 
 they were compelled to give up the Whip ?" 
 
 " There is some difference between my relatives and you, I 
 take it," replied Jagger. " Every man to his proper place and 
 tools. I believe yours are the spade and hoe." 
 
 " It is, in some measure, true," said Sassafras, " for I have 
 dug men's graves in my time, and may do so again. You are 
 said to be an English gentleman " 
 
 "Said to be — said to be?" cried Jagger. 
 
 " Ay, sir, said to be. I have met other Englishmen who 
 were said to be gentlemen, and were so called by the consuls 
 of Great Britain ; these men were not a bit like you. But 
 that is nothing to the purpose. If you had resembled them, I 
 might have requested you to take a moderate sum as forfeit, 
 and declare the match off. As it is, I would not accept any- 
 thing like a favor at your hands. I shall run the mare if she 
 is in anything like a state to make use of her leg under the 
 heavy weight, and, win or l«se, it is the sole race I shall ever 
 have with you. The transactions of the turf ought always to 
 be between men whose principles are honorable, no matter 
 what their wealth and station in life may be. You are no 
 such man." 
 
 With this Sassafras turned away, leaving Jagger somewhat 
 confounded by the words and the stern, emphatic manner of 
 
208 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 their delivery. He first had recourse to the whiskey, aud then 
 addressed himself to Campau : 
 
 " Your friend from Missouri is out of his mind," said he. 
 " It's lunacy — sheer lunacy, to talk in that manner to me, or 
 to think of starting his mare. I'll lay a hundred to one on 
 my own horse." 
 
 That observation was overheard, aud there were offers to 
 take the bet, but Jagger would not stand to it. At last, how- 
 ever, after much altercation and banter, he retired into the 
 back room and made a bet of a thousand guineas to two 
 hundred and fifty with Sassafras, and produced the gold from 
 two large belts worn round his body. It thus appeared that 
 while Staples thought the money was in a brass-bound box, 
 double-locked and committed to him for safe-keeping, it was 
 really being borne, night and day, by Jagger himself, at great 
 inconvenience. Sassafras was furnished with money by the 
 manager, from an amount deposited by Tom Scarlet, but in 
 Campau's name, and the stakes were made good on both sides. 
 After this Mr. Jagger returned to the outer store, and in 
 company with Indians, half-breeds, hunters and trappers, got 
 60 drunk that Kirby and Keeps were sent for at midnight to 
 take him away. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 "Virginia was a noble steed; 
 Gray, aud of the Medley breed — 
 Full* of tire, and full of bone, 
 All her lineage tried and known. 
 Muzzle tine and nostrils thin. 
 But blown abroad by the pride within.'* 
 
 THE morning of the day named for the race was clear, 
 bright aud beautiful. The sun rose without a cloud on 
 the eastern horizon, and the haze which lay upon the lowlands 
 soon disappeared, while the rich tints of the forest foliage 
 showed all their varied hues in the autumn rays, as the god 
 of day topped the eastern liills. There was great anxiety in 
 the minds of the immediate parties to the race, and some un- 
 certainty in those of the men not immediately concerned, as 
 to whether it would come off at all. The prevailing impres- 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 209 
 
 sion was that, at the ]ast moment, Sassafras would refuse to 
 rim his mare. The Dunibers about the fort had been somewhat 
 increased. The news of the race had been spread far and wide 
 throughout all that wild region by hunters and runners. 
 Indians had come in, as well as some roving white men from 
 the frontier parts of Arkansas, Missouri, the Cherokee territory, 
 and the Indian territory to the west, which is now the popu- 
 lous and thriving state of Kansas. Keeps was very early 
 a-foot and in a restless state of mind. He had a devouring 
 curiosity to hear more about Virginia. Neither he nor his 
 worthy principal, Captain Staples, knew of the last large bet 
 made by Jagger with Sassafras, for as soon as the former got 
 sober his heart began to fail him on account of the amount of 
 money he had upon the event, and he resolved to say nothing 
 about it until after the race was run. Still, Keeps could not 
 altogether suppress the suspicion that Sassafras meditated a 
 secret, sudden and staggering blow of some sort, and that his 
 strategy was to be watched and feared. In his assertions Keeps 
 put .little faith, and scarcely more in his admissions to Stai3les. 
 Keeps knew what his own were worth in such emergencies, and 
 determined to see all he could for himself. From a close cover 
 he saw the mare very early in the morning led out for a walk, 
 and she went lame in the off fore leg, but, so far as he could 
 perceive from a distance, not very lame. After that she was 
 taken back to her stable, into which no man had since entered 
 save Sassafras, Black Dick, and an Indian Keeps did not 
 know. 
 
 Whether these parties were engaged in making another 
 trial of the Voodhoo charm, in which Keeps was somewhat 
 of an unwilling believer, as many were who had mixed much 
 with the negroes of the southwest, he was unable to determine. 
 Ignorant and incredulous in regard to many things, and with- 
 out much fear of the white man's particular devil, Keeps was 
 superstitious, and had more present fear of the African devil, 
 whose proceedings he had always heard were much more sum- 
 mary than those of the evil one of the Scriptures. If Jagger 
 had not been silent about his last large bet with Sassafras, 
 Keeps would have feared the worst, and might have conjec- 
 tured the truth. But he now thought that, in his desperate 
 strait. Sassafras was relying upon the enchantments of the 
 14 
 
210 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 Voodhoo. From what he had been able to observe at a dis- 
 tance, the man of the border had the air of a necromancer, 
 while Black Dick was not unlike a familiar, bound to work 
 his master's will. Keeps silently rejoiced in the conclusion 
 that the Voodhoo power inherited by Dick could not amount 
 to much. Even admitting that his great-grandmother pos- 
 sessed it in all its native force, fresh from her African home 
 on the banks of the Niger, there were two generations between 
 him and her, both of which had been born in America. After 
 lurking about for some time, and making many signals, he at 
 last succeeded in attracting the attention of the thick-headed 
 negro, and got him to come into the cover where he lay con- 
 cealed. Keeps hastily questioned him, asseverating his warm 
 friendship, and his determination to pay him well for informa- 
 tion — " truthful and useful information. Calabash," said he. 
 
 The result was rather unsatisfactory at first. The man 
 seemed to be more addle-headed than ever. In a daze of 
 amazement and fright, and with a stare of downright vacuity, 
 he shook his large head and helplessly muttered : 
 
 " Soraet'ing in hand, I t'ink." 
 
 "Well, I know, and it ain't unreasonable on your part. 
 But, Calabash, I got nothing myself just now. After the race 
 I shall have a great deal of money, and you'll see that I will 
 divide with you. Now, just tell me who is down there, and 
 what they are doing." 
 
 " 'Fo' God, Massa Keeps, I brieve dey makin' preparations 
 to raise de debbil. Dere Sassafras and Black Dick, de French- 
 men, Cinnamon, and a strange Indian nobody know. I hab 
 reason to brieve him Medicine Man from de Rocky Moun- 
 tains. Den dere come last night, after dark, two more Indian. 
 One a horrid-looking sabage, wid big gash all down de face." 
 
 "Ay, ay. Three Scalps. A bloody-minded redskin that. 
 Calabash. What of the other ?" 
 
 " De odcr v. as de young Kiowa. Dat limb of Satan swag- 
 ger about round de fire, swingin' knife and tomahawk, and 
 make signs dat he mean to scalp me. Keeps," said the negro, 
 in solemn tones and with a portentous look, " last night I hab 
 a dream. In dat dream I see de debbil. Keeps, plain. He 
 stretch out his orful claws for me, and I wake. What you 
 t'ink I see next ?" 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 211 
 
 " Why, Black Dick, of course," replied Keeps. 
 
 " No, sail ! Ober me stood de Kiowa. In his eye malice 
 ob de fiend ; in his hand de scalping-knife, which he flourish 
 round my head, and say, in his barbarous tongue, ' Wool- 
 isriz !' I know not de meaning ob de sabage, but from his 
 gestures 'spect some frightful 'lusion to my top ha'r. De fact 
 is, Keeps, de mar', lame or not lame, dese parties say dey jest 
 raise de very debbil hisself but what dey Tnake her win." 
 
 "And I say that Sassafras will never raise anything worse 
 than himself. The devil don't come at the call of such a vil- 
 lain ; that is, not the right and proper devil." 
 
 " I dunno ! I dunno ! but I's in mortal dread. Sassafras is 
 a Yoodhoo man," said Calabash, in an ominous voice and with 
 another portentous look. 
 
 " That's all nonsense. The whites never have the power. 
 Besides, it's a female gift. There is no such thing as a Vood- 
 hoo man," said Keeps. 
 
 "Ain't dere?" said Calabash, with some contempt in his 
 tone. "Sode ignorant t'ink, but I hab 'sperience. Keeps, 
 dere is but one man on dis Western continent wid more know- 
 ledge and 'sperience of de Voodhoo practice dan me — dat 
 man is Sassafras. I admit de Voodhoo men to be more scase, 
 but dey hab most power. Keeps. I seen it, being what you call 
 inwoluntary spectator ob de horrid rites. Black Dick's great- 
 grandmoder, dyiug at de age of 'bout a hundred and fifty, at de 
 plantation near St. Jo., gib Sassafras all her power, and mo', 
 too, befo' she take lebe ob de world, and go back, as she say, 
 to Africa." 
 
 "Calabash,'' said Keeps, " is this actually true?" 
 
 " True as de Voodhoo itself, and dat you know is true as 
 gospel — de adepts in de sorcery say great deal truer. Keeps, 
 I brieve you to be my true friend." 
 
 "You may bet your life on that!" replid Keeps, with 
 ardor. " Kot my own brother, much as I love him — I'll go 
 further than him, for we have not been on good terms lately, 
 all his fault. Calabash, you got no other sich friend as me 
 on earth. Hear me swear " 
 
 " Nebber mind now — time presses ! Besides, I hab heerd 
 you do dat once or twice afb'. Now, listen to me. Dere is 
 more'n life and deaf involved in de secret I gwiue to tell. I 
 
212 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 hab long been anxious to tell it, but didn't dare. When de 
 ole African got very feeble, I was sent to wait upon her. She 
 lib in a hut, solitary, all alone, 'cept a porcupine and a rattle- 
 snake — wouldn't let de oder women come near her. De night 
 she died she started up at dusk and say, ' Dere Sassafras ! I 
 hear tread of his horse. Fetch him heah.' Keeps, I did so, 
 and when he came, wid his rifle and knife — he was returned 
 from a hunt — de ole African 'oman send me away. Now, 
 what passed between dem after I left was dis " 
 
 " By what means did you find out what passed ? I reckon 
 Sassafras didn't tell you ?" 
 
 " Massa Keeps, he did not," said Calabash. " I found out 
 by de same means which hab enable me to gib you various 
 information. I just crawl up to de back of de hut, and looked 
 and listened t'roo a chink in de clapboard." 
 
 " Ah ! all right. Go on, Calabash." 
 
 " Well, sah, de ole African say, ' Sassafras, you good man, 
 only you nebber whip dat boy Dick enough. If you jest whip 
 him strong once a w^eek, you make man ob him.' Now, Keeps, 
 what you t'ink of ole 'oman on de brink ob de grave wanting 
 her own flesh and blood whipped once a week ? It is bery 
 well for some folks to talk 'bout whipping, but it is a t'iug I 
 hab strong objection to. De ole African went on : * Sassafras, 
 chile, I gwine dead to-night — gwine back to Africa, I brieve. 
 'Fo' I start I gib you de power ob de spirits, de Voodhoo and 
 de fetish ; what I bring a hundred yeai-s ago from de land ob 
 de lion and de elephant, de crocodile and de serpent. I get 
 up now. Sassafras, chile, you de only man fit to hab de gift. 
 No black man heah brave enough. Draw your knife and 
 look upon de edge. Now open vein in your left arm, and I 
 catch blood in the gourd. Must drink blood ob de brave 'fo' 
 I got strength to face de Voodhoo power. Prince ob de jungle 
 on de Niger. When he comes he will say : " White man, 
 thou art my subject." You say, " Not so, dark Prince ; thou 
 art my subject. As Heir of the Woman and Master of the 
 Steel, I will compel ?" Now, Sassafras, stand fast ; be all- 
 brave ! If coward hear or see what is now to come, it is cer- 
 tain and sudden death to him.' " 
 
 " And what came next ?" said Keeps, with eager and impa- 
 tient curiositv. " What next ?" 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 213 
 
 « AYell, Keeps, I next cl'ar out away from dat chink in a • 
 hurry, habbing no reason to t'ink de Voodhoo secrets do me 
 much good, if I gone struck dead certain and sudden de next 
 minute. iVfter long time and prayers twice ober, I crawl back 
 agen. De ole African lay still. Sassafras, bery pale, paler 
 dan you. Keeps, now, sat by her side. She lay a-dying. 
 Sights were seen and voices heard round de hut whar' de ole 
 Queen ob de Voodhoo lay a-dyiug. At de first faint tinge ob 
 dawn she raise up and look awful — white ha'r, black skin and 
 bone, and fiery eyes ! She say, * Sassafras, chile ! one last little 
 gift. All \\^io possess de Voodhoo power must hab it. Take 
 dis bottle. If you got enemy, bad man, ten drops in coffee or 
 in water make him good ; dat is, good 'nuff"! Ten drops plenty 
 for de worst and strongest man dat lives ; but. Sassafras, chile, 
 if you eber 'spect Calabash ob treachery and treason, gib him 
 eleben !' O, Keeps, eleben ! and with dat she died. What 
 you t'iuk now, Keeps ?" 
 
 « Think ! I don't know what to think, except this : Ten 
 drops in coffee or in water, the old sorceress said. I'll drink 
 nothing but whiskey in the infernal company of Sassafras." 
 
 " You don't want to be made good, eh ?" 
 
 " Not by them unlawful and diabolical means," said Keeps, 
 as he stole hastily away. 
 
 It was nearly three o'clock, in the afternoon of the day in 
 question, and the time of the race was near at hand. Con- 
 sidering the remote situation of the place of action, a large 
 crowd was assembled in front of the fori. Every Indian, 
 every hunter, and every trapper about those parts had come 
 to see the event, and to bet his money if he could. There were 
 three distinct races of men, as well as the half-breeds. The 
 aborigines of North America were in the majority, the white 
 men were next in number, the negroes were the smallest body, 
 and, in fact, slaves, for the most part, to the whites. The 
 Indians, the whites, and the half-breeds w^ere already engaged 
 in gaming, a practice for which the first have a notable passion ; 
 and it was surprising to see the quantity of silver dollars of 
 Mexico these roving borderers produced with which to play and 
 bet. Some, indeed, gambled for stakes of gold, and put up 
 their ounces and doubloons v^ith as much nonchalance as 
 grandees of New Spain or planters of Louisiana. The White 
 
214 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 Horse was brought on to the course first, attended by Staples, 
 Jagger, Keeps, Kirby, and the negroes belonging to the party. 
 He was taken to the edge of the track, and his rider, Jagger, 
 alias Mr. Grosvernor, went into the fort to be weighed. The 
 manager of the trading company had. been selected to act as 
 judge of the race, and had reluctantly consented to do so. He 
 found that Jagger was the stipulated weight, 140 lbs. The 
 latter was nervous and shaky, the result, for the most part, of 
 his previous carousals, but also in some degree from the near 
 approach of the time when he must undertake a task for which 
 he knew himself to be unfit — the riding of a race. He re- 
 quested to be supplied with a stimulant, and having taken two 
 doses, by way of medicine, as the captain would have said, he 
 found himself much better. 
 
 The arrival of the gray mare was so much delayed, that 
 some began to think she would not be brought out at all, and 
 large odds were offered against her. Still the oldest and 
 most wary of the borderers, the men who had the doubloons, 
 and were prepared to stake them, hesitated about making the 
 White Horse their favorite. The air of mystery, which had 
 been kept up about the mare all the morning had caused them to 
 doubt, had perplexed Keeps, and had mightily provoked the 
 venerable captain. Of those who had seen her during her 
 morning walk, sjome said she was quite lame forw^ard, while 
 others declared that she was apparently sound, but it was 
 agreed on all hands that in bodily condition she was as near 
 perfect as possible. It had been remarked that she was bright 
 in the eye, blooming in the coat, lean but muscular, with flesh 
 as hard as brass. The patience of some in the crowd was 
 nearly exhausted, and the manager had been spoken to con- 
 cerning the delay, when there was a murmur of " Here they 
 come !" and a sort of procession was seen emerging from the 
 little valley on the other side of the prairie. It was headed 
 by the famous gray mare, always a prime favorite, in her 
 palmy days, with the Indians and borderers who knew her. 
 She was led by Black Dick, and Sassafras walked on the off 
 side at her shoulder. The Frenchmen and the negro attend- 
 ants followed. The Indian chief, the young Kiowa and a 
 party of Cheyenues brought up the rear. There was some- 
 thing portentous iu the ebony-like face of Black Dick, and in 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 215 
 
 the set stare of his one eye. As they approached the back- 
 stretch of the course, some of the men in front of the fort 
 crossed over to look at Virginia. Sassafras was questioned, 
 but his replies were of the Delphic order, which is commonly 
 and naturally the case with the answers of trainers to questions 
 put concerning their horses just before a race. While the 
 bystanders were making their observations, the thick-headed 
 negro approached Black Dick, and whispered a proposition to 
 him. The steady, stony stare of Dick did not relax, and he 
 shook his head, muttering, " Go 'way, niggah !" 
 
 The thick-headed darkey turned to Jules, and informing him 
 in his maundering way that there was no fun in horse-racing 
 without betting, produced a greasy rag from the inside of his 
 shirt. From this he took twenty Mexican dollars, and re^ 
 quested the Frenchman to bet them on Virginia for him at 
 odds of three to one. Looking at the wooden-headed darkey 
 with amazement, the Frenchman protested with volubility, 
 and not without some show of reason, against the venture. 
 But the wooden-headed darkey would not be denied. He 
 forced the money upon Jules, and when the latter said he did 
 not know whom to bet with, desired him to lay it with Keeps, 
 and make Campau the stakeholder. The Frenchman sought 
 his man. With the wager in view. Keeps borrowed thirty 
 dollars from Jagger, extorted thirty more from Captain Sta- 
 ples, and staked it with Campau against that of his muddle- 
 headed confidant who had predicted in the morning the " Rais- 
 ing ob de debil, Massa Keeps !" 
 
 Just at this time somebody made the discovery that Black 
 Dick had not been weighed. The negro moved never a mus- 
 cle, but kept his one eye fixed on his master. The man then 
 said, " Here's Dick not weighed !" 
 
 " I know it. Here comes my rider," said Sassafras, as a 
 dark, tall, lithe man, with a saddle on his arm, came up, ac- 
 companied by Campau. He was a man not known to any 
 there save Sassafras and his confidential friends. 
 
 " You're the right weight?" said Sassafras. 
 
 " A pound more," replied Campau. 
 
 ^' Here goes, then," said Sassafras. With great quickness, 
 but with care, he saddled the mare, drawing the girths tight 
 with ease and a display of power in the exercise of which the 
 
216 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 perfection of his sinewy frame and build were displayed. 
 Meantime the dark man threw off a woollen shirt, exposed his 
 jacket of the Sassafras blue, and put on the jockey cap of the 
 same color. He vaulted into the saddle. Sassafras went 
 down upon his knee, and in a moment removed the bandage 
 from Virginia's off fore leg. The thick-headed darkey, deft 
 where horses were concerned, stripped her near one. Black 
 Dick let loose her head, and away she went at an easy, springy 
 canter towards the quarter-pole. These proceedings, so quickly 
 and quietly effected, opened the eyes of the border men on that 
 side of the course. Without words, but with meaning looks 
 at each other, they hurried across to take some of the odds 
 which were being freely offered near the fort. 
 
 Sassafras and his immediate friends and assistants followed 
 them. Among the crowd near the starting-place much noise 
 and confusion now prevailed, and sometimes there was a wild 
 border whoop followed by a yell which was caught up and 
 echoed by the neighboring hills. All this tended to shake the 
 nerves of Jagger, while it excited the spirit and chafed the 
 temper of his fiery horse, as he cantered him up and down. 
 It was already apparent to those who were good judges and 
 who watched the horse and rider that the latter was afraid of 
 the racer on whose back he had incautiously ventured at such 
 a time. The horse moved with free and powerful action, 
 fighting against the bit, while Jagger, pale and apprehensive, 
 kept a desperate pull upon the bridle, as if his life depended 
 upon not letting the former have his head. The mare had 
 been turned at the quarter-pole, so as to have a breathing gal- 
 lop of three-quarters of a mile to the starting-place. She now 
 came sweeping by at fair speed without any signs of lameness 
 or infirmity. Astonishment made the crowd silent as they saw 
 ■with what ease and gaiety the supposed cripple skimmed along. 
 Jagger was too much occupied with his own fiery and impa- 
 tient horse to notice her. Kirby had been drinking, and was 
 better capable of seeing many things all at once than of mark- 
 ing a single matter in particular. But Captain Staples and 
 Keeps were at no loss to perceive the nature of the stratagem 
 which had been employed, and what they didn't say, as they 
 stared helplessly at each other, was very eloquent. Keeps 
 was the first to recover, and having done so, he expressed his 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 217 
 
 feelings by a strong volley of oaths. The venerable captain 
 exclaimed : 
 
 « Here's villainy ! here's roguery ! here's iniquity for a man 
 
 that's young ! I'm d d if this world'U be worth living in 
 
 when Sassafras and his partners in rascality and audacity have 
 come to be as old as I be." 
 
 The bell was loudly rung and the gray mare was brought 
 back to the starting-post. Tom Scarlet displayed the ease 
 and mastery of practised and noble horsemanship, so that 
 Black Dick and the wooden-headed darkey exchanged looks, 
 and the young K'iowa, standing at Cinnamon's side, uttered an 
 exclamation of delight. 
 
 A start was soon made, in spite of the inability of Jagger 
 to control his horse. On the other hand, the mare had the 
 steady air of an old practitioner who knew what was wanted 
 as well as her experienced and accomplished rider. The 
 White Horse was a little in the lead when the start was given, 
 and at the shout which followed it, he got the better of Jagger 
 at once, and dashed away in front at a great rate. At the 
 quarter-pole he led ten lengths, and at the half-mile as much 
 as twenty, whereat the unwary ones and those of the Indians 
 who were not of Cinnamon's tribe, set up a great shout in an- 
 ticipation of an easy victory. For the next quarter of a mile 
 the mare held her own, and when they reached the starting- 
 post again the lead of the White Horse was much diminished. 
 The mare was going with an easy, level stroke, and under a 
 good pull, while the White Horse was without support, under 
 no control, and, as Sassafras remarked to Campau, " running 
 all over the course." But his speed and resolution were such 
 that with any one of even moderate capacity to ride him he 
 must have won the heat. With a good pull in the first half 
 of the second mile he could not have lost it. He was still 
 leading at the end of a mile and a half, but the mare had 
 stolen forward inch by inch, and was within three lengths of 
 him. Another furlong and Tom Scarlet shot her up to his 
 girths all at once. The horse was not beaten, but Jagger was. 
 As he saw the mare's head opposite his knee he uttered an ex- 
 clamation. Letting go the off rein to ply the whip, he pulled 
 upon the near one. In went the spurs unconsciously. With 
 a furious kick, and then a mighty lunge and leap, the White 
 
218 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 Horse cleared the feuce, rau away in the iufiekl, and pitched 
 his rider off into the mud on the margin of the pond in the 
 centre. The mare went on, distanced her antagonist as a 
 matter of course, and won amidst the shouts of the majority, 
 but the bitter execrations of Staples and Keeps. 
 
 " You rode like a captain — a master of the art !" said Sas- 
 safras to Tom Scarlet, as he ungirthed the saddle. " By Jove, 
 at the critical instant you shot her up alongside of him like 
 an arrow from the bow. It is well enough he acted as you 
 predicted he would, and bolted out of the course, for other- 
 wise, with a change of riders after the heat, it might have 
 been a tough job to beat him." 
 
 " Ay, Sassafras. You can see what a horse he would be in 
 slap-up good condition, with a horseman on his back, for a 
 steeple-chase. You know he's fat as a bullock fit to kill 
 inside, and had the worst rider that ever crossed a horse." 
 
 "It is all true, Tom. By the gods, what a jumper he is! 
 When he took Jagger over the fence it was with a leap as 
 though he would clear the Rocky Mountains. I wonder Jag- 
 ger didn't fall off then. But get weighed, and let us clinch 
 this business." 
 
 The dark man was found to be the proper weight. The 
 manager pronounced the mare the winner, and in the midst of 
 the clamor which followed, her rider, to escape further notice, 
 went off to the fort with Campau. Sassafras became so pop- 
 ular that he received an ovation, and if the scene of the race 
 had been in one of the States, a proposition would probably 
 have been made to nominate and run him for Congress. It 
 was astonishing to find out how many there were who had 
 expected and even predicted the result of the match and the 
 method by which Sassafras would achieve his victory, all 
 along. Even those who had laid their money the other way 
 declared that they were not disappointed in the least. They 
 had always thought it would be just about as it had turned 
 out. They had lost their money, which was really a very 
 small matter, and could be made up another day, as their 
 judgment was confirmed and their expectations were verified. 
 Another time they should follow the dictates of their own 
 knowledge and common sense. On this occasion they had 
 been misled by Staples, who was getting advanced in years. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 219 
 
 poor old man ! and by the English gentleman, who was a d — d 
 fool, and no doubt always had been. This was pronounced with 
 emphasis, within hearing of the man himself; and it was sad. 
 He had scrambled out of the mud in wretched plight and 
 much crestfallen; and here was he, the man of wealth and 
 station, the relative of noblemen and bishops — for all the 
 crowd knew to the contrary, as it had been so announced — 
 here was he, an object of contempt and derision to fellows in 
 buckskin shirts and moccasins, whose possessions consisted of 
 a horse, a rifle, and a knife. Here was a fall, my masters ! 
 Staples was not there just then, and for this Jagger was pro- 
 foundly thankful. He feared the vindictive old man so much 
 that he even felt a flash of gratitude to Sassafras because his 
 stratagem in regard to the reputed lameness of the mare would 
 divert attention in some measure from his own inefficiency as 
 a rider. 
 
 Meanwhile the captain, assisted bv his darkies, was enframed 
 in chasing the White Horse in vain, and in devoting Sassa- 
 fras, Jagger, and nearly ^everybody else to the infernal gods. 
 Keeps, too cunning to waste his wind in running after another 
 man's horse, had sought and found his confidential friend, the 
 wooden-headed darkey. Catcliing him by the throat, the 
 exasperated henchman cried, " What's the meaning of this, 
 you black villain ? What the devil does it mean ?" 
 
 " You mean why de Euglishman let go de horse's head and 
 ram in de spurs, Massa Keeps? Why, I was just going to ax 
 you what dat mean, sah !" 
 
 " The mare, you black rascal ! what does that mean ?" 
 
 " Oh, de mar' !" replied the black, with a vacant stare. 
 " Well, 'bout de mar', I tell you afo' I believe dey raise de 
 bsrry debbil. Here was Sassafras, and de Medicine Man, and 
 Black Dick, and Black Dick's great-grandmother, Massa 
 Keeps ; and I was satisfied they cure de mar', if dey hab to 
 raise de debbil." 
 
 " None of your humbug !" cried Keeps. " I'll choke you if 
 you don't tell me something better than this. I have lost a 
 heap of money to the Frenchman — Jules," 
 
 " Why, Massa Keeps, hab Jules lay money wid you ?" 
 
 " He has, and won it," replied Keeps. 
 
 " I b'lieve den de debbil not only raised, but still above 
 
220 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 ground and hab power. I didn't t'ink Jules would have beat 
 you, Massa Keeps. It's too bad !" 
 
 " Sassafras himself comes this way. I'm off," said Keeps ; 
 " but before I go tell me who was the fellow that rode the 
 mare !" 
 
 " Massa Keeps," replied the wooden-headed darkey, with a 
 profound and solemn look, not unmixed with a sort of satis- 
 faction and veneration, " I verily b'lieve he was de berry debbil 
 what dey raise ; for de Medicine Man " 
 
 Before he could conclude Keeps menaced him with his fist, 
 and went off to avoid the man of the Missouri border. 
 
 But if he was unable to conclude his tale then, the thick- 
 headed black was able to tell it to the end many another time. 
 As he grew older his skull seemed to grow thicker, and he 
 looked more hopelessly vacant than ever. But as he was a 
 man of tried fidelity he became the trusty favorite of Sassafras, 
 and had charge of many good horses. He proclaimed his firm 
 belief in the mysteries of the Voodhoo and the sorceries of the 
 medicine men of the wild tribes of Indians. To many a lis- 
 tening group at the stables he would tell how Sassafras and the 
 Great Medicine Man of the Cheyennes raised the devil to cure 
 Virginia's leg, which Satan refused to do until Sassafras bound 
 himself to let him ride her. 
 
 The White Horse led Captain Staples and his men a weary 
 dance, and was at last caught by Black Dick. The old man 
 walked up to receive the bridle, but Sassafras took it, saying: 
 
 "This is my horse, captain, and I'll take care of him. The 
 beaten horse goes, with the stake.?, to me." 
 
 The captain grew pale, but not with fear. Under some 
 circumstances he would have resisted and tried an appeal to 
 force; but that was out of the question there and then. There 
 were next to none to take part with him. The border men 
 and hunters declared that the best horse and the best man had 
 won the race. The Indians and half-breeds had no incentive 
 to take up his quarrel, but a very great motive to remain 
 quiet, inasmuch as the Cheyenne chief and his Western 
 braves would cry their war-cry and strike for Sassafras until 
 the prairie ran red with blood if a quarrel began. Swelling 
 with hate and rage, and eager to visit his wrath upon some- 
 body, the captain retired to his shanty. He sought out Jag- 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 221 
 
 ger and took him with him, much agaiost the will of that 
 forlorn and discomfited rogue. The latter would have prefer- 
 red any other company to that of the captain just then, but 
 he had not the resolution to leave him. The vindictive old 
 man covered him with reproaches, which were mainly deserved, 
 and with ridicule of his pretensions as a rider. From time to 
 time he changed that topic to another hardly less disagreeable 
 at the moment to Jagger, viz. : the combined good fortune and 
 villainy of Sassafras, which was, he said, clean against the old 
 proverb, " A fool for luck," according to which Jagger cer- 
 tainly ought to have won. For some time the latter made no 
 reply. At lengtli, however, he was goaded to desperation, and 
 being a proficient in the slang which was cultivated to perfec- 
 tion in the gin-shops near Seven Dials and the slums of Drury 
 Lane, he turned upon his venerable friend with such force and 
 variety of vituperation that the old man was silenced. Tliere 
 they sat in the fast gathering gloom, each cursing the other in 
 his heart. The captain, ignorant of the loss of the thousand 
 guineas staked the night before, was revolving other schemes 
 by means of which to come at the supposed contents of Jag- 
 ger's brass-bound box, while that individual was considering 
 whether it would not be better for him to shake Staple? ofi* 
 and make a friend of Sassafras. There was, however, this 
 difliculty : he had not much money left, except that which 
 was in the Bank of Louisiana. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 "I dreamed a doleful dream yest'reenj 
 I fear there will be sorrow ! 
 I dreamed I pu'd the heather green, 
 Wi' my true love on Yarrow." 
 
 " Captain of our fairy band, 
 Helena is here at hand ; 
 And the youth mistook by me 
 Pleading for a lover's fee : 
 Shall we their fond pageant see? 
 Lord, what fools these mortals be \" 
 
 THE various parties gathered at and about the post had 
 prepared to break up and leave its vicinity. Some, in- 
 deed, had already gone. Captain Staples, devoured by rage 
 
222 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 and by the pangs of disappointed avarice, had left the scene 
 of his discomfiture. On the second day after the race he had 
 set his train in motion towards the East, revolving schemes of 
 revenge against Sassafras, but not quite clear as to how he 
 should endeavor to put them in execution. The unhappy 
 Jagger, sorely tried by his losses, was with him, more like a 
 captive than a free agent. He had not then told Staples of 
 the loss of the thousand guineas, but it was a secret which 
 could not long be kept. Keeps had suspicions before they 
 left the post that there had been some secret transaction be- 
 tween Sassafras and Jagger, but he was at a loss to guess the 
 nature of it. He waited for an opportunity to worm the mat- 
 ter out of Jagger, hoping to establish a hold upon him which 
 might be useful in the future. At first he was inclined to 
 think that the race had been sold to Sassafras by Jagger. 
 The idea was, however, soon discarded, as Keeps was unable 
 to see how the rider, in such case, could have cheated any one 
 except himself. He considered it certain that in the course 
 of their lonely journey of many days he would have ample 
 opportunities to get the truth from Jagger, and he said noth- 
 ing of his suspicions to the captain, whose temper was morose 
 and irritable to a degree of savage sullenness. They had 
 taken a difficult route, one leading into the rugged hills lying 
 to the eastward, and never travelled save by Indians, or the 
 roaming border hunters on horseback. Its obstructions and 
 inconveniences had been pointed out to Staples by Keeps and 
 Kirby, but the old man had chosen it for purposes of his own, 
 after diligent but cautious inquiries respecting the intentions 
 of Sassafras ; and silencing objections and remonstrances in a 
 peremptory manner, he struck into the eastern hills with his 
 train. 
 
 The Indians were also on the move, mostly to the south- 
 ward. The Cheyennes were divided into three parties. The 
 chief with ten of his men remained at the camp near the fort. 
 The others, in two bands, rode away to the west, to hunt the 
 buffalo on the plains, until Cinnamon should come up, when 
 the whole party would begin their march toward the South 
 Fork of the Solomon. Sassafras and his Missouri band were 
 preparing to leave. His business at the fort was settled up, 
 though the gold remained in the safe of the manager, and 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 223 
 
 wTiat he called his " frolic," wilh the border mea and hunters 
 of the post, -SYas now ended after several days and nights of 
 conviviality. It was just break of day, and all hands in the 
 camp were astir, when he and Tom Scarlet strolled up the lit- 
 tle valley to its head, and drank of the spring which gusher? 
 out from beneath the rock. The paint and dye had been re- 
 moved from the person of the young Englishman, by Fran- 
 9ois, and, in appearance, Tom was almost himself again. 
 
 " We shall drink little more of this water," said Sassafras. 
 " Our sojourn here is about ended, for when we return from 
 the hunt we shall stop but a few hours. The equestrian games 
 are over ! There will be no time to train Danger, as you say 
 you will remain but a few days with me at St. Jo. I shall be 
 sorry when we have to part, and have half a mind to go on to 
 !N"ew York or Baltimore with you, and see you on the ship 
 which will take you to the little island over the main." 
 
 " Do so. Sassafras !" replied Tom Scarlet. " I am for ever 
 bound to you. You must keep Danger as a small token of 
 my gratitude. He is a good horse, and no man is as well able 
 to manage him as you are." 
 
 " I accept the gift as freely as you make it," said Sassafras ; 
 *' and if he wins when I train and run him, I will write and let 
 you know. I would you could stay much longer, and see other 
 parts of America. However, you can come back. Your visit 
 has not been fruitless. You have recovered the White Horse, 
 and got back the money Jagger defrauded you and the gypsy 
 of — that is, you will get it when we reach St. Jo.'' 
 
 " And solely by your means, Sassafras." 
 
 " Not solely ! We all did our work well, and I like your way 
 of riding. The AYhite Horse would not have been an easy 
 customer, even for Virginia, if he had been well trained and 
 ridden. The rush upset Jagger, and took the little horse- 
 sense he ever had out of him. It wasn't the horse we beat, 
 but the man. What a game it was, when he chucked him 
 over his head into the mud !" 
 
 " I didn't see that !" said Tom. " It must have been good." 
 
 " It was good ! and then to see old Staples running after the 
 loose horse, knowing they were beat, and swearing two curses 
 to every step — that was rich ! Well, it's over, and we have 
 one thing more before us — the grand hunt beyond the Neosho. 
 
224 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 You'll say it equals anything you have taken part in here. 
 If we have the luck I anticipate, we'll be back here short of a 
 week, and bring the heads and horns of two or three elks with 
 us. I shall strike right for the Neosho, and never pause long 
 enough to pull a trigger on the way, unless a big buck crosses 
 our bridles, and stops to see who rides so far in the hills and 
 woods." 
 
 " I should hardly have expected you to select thoroughbred 
 horses for service in this hunt. Many think them ill-fitted 
 for four or five days' riding and wild fare," said Tom. 
 
 " A gross error !" replied Sassafras, decisively ; " my expe- 
 rience proves it. The sound, stout-bred blood-horse will stand 
 more than any other that goes on four legs. He is the best 
 for nearly everything, except slow, heavy draught, when mere 
 bulk tells." 
 
 " But the young chief was lame, and he and the White 
 Horse are both very full in flesh," said Tom. 
 
 " All the better for our present purpose ! They are not 
 going to run against Virginia, but to carry us at a moderate 
 stiff* pace in the woods. When we reach our hunting-grounds, 
 they will have plenty of time to crop the grass and to eat the 
 wild-pea vine, which is the best green feed I know of, next to 
 blue grass. I'll answer for the horses ; and we shall take a 
 third to pack the hides and horns we may get." 
 
 " But the lameness of the Young Chief?" 
 
 " Is cured," said Sassafras. " The fact is he never was very 
 lame. In my plan there was no use for him sound. But he 
 was nothing like as lame as the gray mare," he added, with a 
 laugh. 
 
 *' I should like to know how that lameness was produced 
 and so suddenly cured," said Tom. 
 
 " It was a very simple matter. I may tell you before you 
 leave the country ; but it is a thing only to be practised in 
 an emergency, to defeat a rogue. It is like putting one of a 
 man's feet in a very tight boot. The cure is like ripping it 
 off." 
 
 "It was, then, the bandage!" 
 
 " No ! but what was beneath the bandage. But come ! we 
 will eat breakfast ; and then for the saddle — off and away ! 
 Before sundown to-morrow we shall be on the left bank of 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 225 
 
 the Neosho, and the morning after we will seek the elk. You 
 don't seem to be as eager for the grand hunt as you were." 
 
 " I am eager enough for the hunt, but there is a drag upon 
 my spirits," replied Tom. " I dreamed a dream last night of 
 home and May Bullfinch. We were together in her flower- 
 garden at Hawk'ell, plucking the roses, pinks and sprigs of the 
 sweetbriar. Then again in the wood among the primroses." 
 
 " Ay, ay !" said Sassafras, " among the hazel and the haw- 
 thorn thickets. ' I know a bank where the wild thyme grows !' 
 But why should such a dream as this dash your spirits ? Pluck- 
 ing flowers like this with the maiden you love should rather 
 forebode joy, and be a token of a coming bridal." 
 
 " Dreams, they say, go by contraries, and I feel disturbed — 
 unkid, as it is called in our parts." 
 
 " More fool you then," said Sassafras. " Plucking roses in 
 dreams a sign of sorrow ! Pluck up your native sense and 
 resolution ! Let us eat and mount !" 
 
 Two hours had passed. The bright sun rising in the clear, 
 rejoicing sky, over the fair face of the goodly earth, lit up the 
 spangles of the morning dew beneath the variegated bushes. 
 The young Kiowa sat on a rock just below the crest of the 
 hill to the southward of the Cheyenne camp. He leaned his 
 head upon his hand, and with the sunlight glancing on the 
 beads and glossy hair, which hung over his cheek, looked to 
 the southward over the far-reaching prospect. It extended 
 many a mile. Hills and vales and rocky dells, virgin from 
 Nature's hand, covered with forest trees, among whose foliage 
 of green were the rich autumn tints of crimson and gold, all 
 bright in the morning sun of the unclouded west. The land- 
 scajie was wild, but it was beautiful in its very loneliness. 
 The horsemen of the hunt had just disappeared over the sum- 
 mit of a lower hill to the southward, and the youth suflered 
 his eyes to wander from the course they had taken. There 
 was a grand sweep of country around him. To the right he 
 could see the termination of the broken timbered land, and 
 perceive the shimmer of the mist, not yet dispelled on the 
 edge of the great and distant plains, like the sunlit surface 
 of a silvery sea. To the left, far in the east, over a vast ex- 
 panse of hill and forest, were the tops of the mountains, their 
 westward slopes in shade. For awhile the boy was silent, but 
 15 
 
226 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 at the end of some minutes, passed, apparently, in deep reflec- 
 tion, he sang with a low, but full and rich voice, these words : 
 
 In the old days when the world was young, 
 And there lingered strains of the anthem sung 
 On creation day by the woods and rills ; 
 The laughing rivers and the glad, green hills, 
 Our fathers lived o'er the Eastern deep, 
 On the crown of the regal Indian steep ; 
 Fair was their lot as the pearl unstrung, 
 In the old days when the world was young. 
 
 God's fair young earth had a gladsome face, 
 Joy was His gift to our Aryan race — 
 Sorrow and guilt had not left us their scars ; 
 Of all in the world we were nearest the stars. 
 Loving we roved, like the wild birds at wing, 
 In the meadow-gales of the flowery spring ; 
 Peace was among us — no anger nor strife — 
 Love ruled this earth in its morning of life. 
 Sweetly and blithely our gay songs were sung, 
 In the old days when the world was young. 
 
 The singer ceased, and Sassafras burst through the bushes 
 of the crest above, saying : " At last ! I knew from the first 
 moment I laid eyes on you that there was somebody other 
 than a Kiowa, or any other Indian, under your paint and 
 clothes. Who and what are you ? There needs no further 
 mystery. Speak to me as a friend. As a friend I will serve 
 you. You are not young Bullfinch, eh ?" 
 
 " Young Jack ! No, I am not Young Jack. But my part 
 must have been poorly played." 
 
 "Not so, lad. It imposed upon Frangois for a time, and it 
 has imposed upon Tom Scarlet all the time." 
 
 " Poor Tom ! What a horrid fright you made of him as a 
 Cheyenne. I thought I should have died with laughing." 
 
 " Well, now," said Sassafras, " I thought that was a very 
 pretty piece of work for our means. We had not the appli- 
 ances that made you up so fine and gay. You surpassed for 
 handsomeness, but not for an Indian. Boy, I have been too 
 much among them to be deceived, and Cinnamon shunned an 
 explanation. Tell me who you are." 
 
 " I am not of Indian blood, and yet I am. I am not of 
 white blood, and yet I am," replied the youth, looking down. 
 " Our people are called gypsies by those who build towns and 
 live in them. AVe love the heaths and the woods." 
 
 " That is not strange," said Sassafras. " I myself soon grow 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 227 
 
 tired of being corralled in a sort of ' canyon' among houses, 
 and make for the woods and prairies again. The gypsies came 
 first from Egypt, I believe." 
 
 " No. The dwellers in the tents, now^ called gypsies, came, 
 as our traditions tell, a long and weary way, always trending 
 towards the West, from the Highlands of India, Asia. We 
 have nothing in common with the Egytians but a sound. We 
 never had." 
 
 " It was then to the people of that old and remote land that 
 the song you sung referred ?" 
 
 " Ay, to the ancient race who peopled the Hindu Koosh and 
 lived nearest the stars. From them we descended, and our 
 blood, after so many centuries and so many wanderings, is 
 still unmixed. Sassafras, the oldest families of Europe are 
 people of yesterday to us ; and we follow the habits our 
 fathers followed in the old days when the w^orld was young." 
 
 " From your English, I reckon you were born over there," 
 said the AVestern man, indicating Britain by a wave of his 
 hand towards the rising sun. 
 
 " Yes, I was born in England, amid the bushes of a hazel 
 copse, in the merry spring-time, when the young lambs frisk 
 in the meadows, when the throstle sings in the grove, and the 
 hedge-sparrow, silly bird, sits on a great Qgg with foolish pride 
 and hatches out a cuckoo." 
 
 "And your name?" said Sassafras. 
 
 " Was Cotswold in the Midland vales of England. Now^ I 
 am called the Singing Bird of the Cheyennes." 
 
 " Well, young Master Cotswold !" said Sassafras, seating 
 himself beside the youth ; " although time presses, and Fran- 
 cois will wonder why I tarry, instead of joining Tom Scarlet 
 and riding on, I should like to hear what brought you here so 
 far. I think you have been trending a good deal towards the 
 West since you left the place your Aryan people landed at, 
 when they struck this shore of the Atlantic ocean. Besides, I 
 want to know where you are going to when we leave the post 
 to its traders, hunters and Indian hangers-on !" 
 
 The youth looked down, and, avoiding the eye of Sassafras, 
 said : " You may have heard Tom Scarlet speak of us Cots- 
 wolds. Many a time we pitched our tents in the green lanes 
 and sheltered nooks which lie about the Grange, in his father's 
 and his brother's time, and, since they died, in his own." 
 
228 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 
 
 " I have heard him speak of Jack, and I think Cotswold 
 was the surname he called him by ; he was one of the men 
 Jagger owed money to." 
 
 " He was, and he is my uncle." 
 
 " And he spoke of Jack's nephew, the boy Ike," said Sas- 
 safras. 
 
 "I am not the boy Ike!" said the youth, with a merry 
 glance of the eye, which quickly fell again. 
 
 " Tom mentioned no other boy of the name," said Sassafras. 
 After a pause, he added quickly : " he mentioned a girl, 
 though. Let me sea, what was her name ?" 
 
 " Do you think it was Miriam ?" replied the youth, drawing 
 off a little from the reaching hand of the hunter. 
 
 " I think I was a blinking owl by daylight !" cried Sassa- 
 fras. " I knew you were no Kiowa, nor Indian of any tribe ; 
 but I got on a regular false trail, I own. You are " 
 
 " The Singing Bird of the wild Cheyennes here !" replied 
 the youth, with a burst of mirth. 
 
 " Ay ! but about the tents in the green lanes, and under the 
 hawthorn bushes, you were Miriam. When Tom Scarlet set 
 out in chase of Jagger, the White Horse, and the stolen money, 
 you followed in another ship. I see it all now, as clear as if 
 I had been there myself," said Sassafras gravely. 
 
 " Not quite all, I think, though you are marvellously acute,'* 
 replied Miriam. 
 
 " I'll be bound you are in love with Tom Scarlet and fol- 
 lowed him for love." 
 
 " I'll be bound I didn't," returned Miriam sharply. " Why, 
 what do you know about love ?" she added gaily. 
 
 "Precious little, except love for a good horse and a true 
 rifle, and a little frolic now and then, ending perhaps in a free 
 fight once in a while. But you need not tell me that you came 
 for nothing." 
 
 "Listen, and you shall hear no lies," said Miriam. "You 
 need not come any nearer. I never heard that you were deaf. 
 I like Tom Scarlet ; he has often been kind to me and my peo- 
 ple. But a lass of his own country folk loves him, and he 
 loves her. O, Sassafras! the sweetest maid in the fairest vale 
 of England ! the Rose of Hawk'll ! Jocund as the morning 
 lark in summer time ! precious as the twilight hours of even- 
 
THE WHITE HOESE OF WOOTTON. 229 
 
 tide in spring ! And then the only daughter of one of the best 
 men that rides to market and a-field in all the broad midland 
 counties." 
 
 " I have heard of this maiden. She was left behind, you 
 know, when you followed Tom to America." 
 
 " I followed my own chase, most likely like a wild goose as 
 I was. Remember, I am a gypsy !" replied Miriam. " I had 
 a purpose in what I did. It was to see that the rascal Jagger 
 should not get clear away with his plunder if I could help it. 
 At New Orleans I found out men who had been sheltered in 
 our tents when the Bow street runners were hot after them. 
 By their means I kept watch and ward over Jagger. Chance, 
 a lucky chance, threw Pierre Langlois in my way. He is a 
 good man, and has been like a father to me. I saw how I 
 might follow Jagger and Staples in disguise, unknown and 
 unsuspected. I wrote to Tom Scarlet and to you. I had been 
 taught by May Bullfinch's mother, a kind and gracious lady, 
 laid long ago under the boughs of the great elms in the old 
 churchyard. You know the rest ! I have done but little ; 
 still, that little was to let you know where to meet your man, 
 and I don't regret the adventure. All the trouble and fatigue 
 of it have been paid for twice over by meeting with the Chey- 
 enne chief — a noble fellow ! a king among men of common 
 stamp !" 
 
 " Ay, ay ! Pierre Langlois was like a father. What may 
 Cinnamon have been like ?" said Sassafras. 
 
 " Like a brother ! like what I think a brother ought to be. 
 I never had one," replied Miriam, frankly. 
 
 " Hem !" uttered Sassafras, after a pause ; " you don't love 
 Tom Scarlet, but the chief may love you, eh ?" 
 
 " Lord ! Sassafras ! you question one as you would look a 
 horse in the mouth!" returned Miriam. " Do you think I am 
 to be wooed like a beggar under a bush ?" 
 
 " The chief is a very fine fellow ! A better man after scalps 
 nobody would wish to see," said Sassafras, with deliberate 
 emphasis. " But to my knowledge he has already four or five 
 wives, each calculated to make her own ground good against 
 a new one with a paler face ; and, therefore, Miriam, when I 
 return from the grand hunt, instead of going with Cinnamon 
 to the Pocky Mountains, you shall * trend to the Northeast,* 
 and go to St. Jo. with me." 
 
230 THE WHITE HORSE OF WUOTTON. 
 
 " I Dever thought of goiog near the mountains with Cinna- 
 mon, or anybody else," returned the gypsy. "You talk as if 
 you had the command and disposal of one." 
 
 " Now, girl, you look at me!" said Sassafras. " I am a plain 
 man. I live, when at home, on the Missouri river, near St. Jo., 
 where I have a plantation. I own five or six race-horses ; I 
 know the use of the rifle ; I love sport and have seen a good 
 deal of it. You are hundreds of miles from any man more 
 disposed or better able to be your friend than I am. I never 
 was in love — I don't pretend to be now ; but it seems to 
 me that I may fall in some day, and prove tender and true; 
 where acquaintance and friendship are, love may come at a 
 racing pace. Miriam, I have made up my mind that you 
 shall go to St. Jo., when we return from this hunt. When 
 you see my horse's head coming over yonder hill, wash the 
 paint away and be yourself." 
 
 " There is a certain impediment to my doing so," said she. 
 
 " And what may that be ?" 
 
 " The lack of suitable petticoats and other things that you 
 know nothing about," she replied with a laugh. " But seriously, 
 Sassafras, you should waste no more time here now. "When 
 you return I shall be glad to see you, and then we will decide 
 as to which road I shall travel. I suppose it may be left un- 
 decided until then. You seem rather slack for a hunting 
 morning." 
 
 " No, I am not slack," he replied ; " but I have come upon 
 a sort of game I never thought of. Keep close to the chief 
 until I return, or to Pierre Langlois. However, as you are 
 known to be with them, and seem to be a spirited boy, there is 
 no fear of any rudeness being shown. But that throwing of 
 the knife young Joe told of. How about that ?" 
 
 " A mere juggler's trick, taught me by a mountebank. All 
 sorts of people used to come to our tents at times." 
 
 " Well, Miriam, good-by — good-by for the present." 
 
 With this the border rover sought his horse, and having 
 mounted rode away. " Strange," said he, " that I should be 
 so deceived. The paint and the breeches done it, especially 
 the last. Yet 1 was an owl not to see that the boy was no boy, 
 but a girl. I never heard her speak before. The voice would 
 have informed me, even though it was the gypsy language, 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 231 
 
 ■which may be the same as Kiowa, for all anybody can tell. 
 Her face must be handsome, for even under the paint I can 
 see that its lineaments are good, and her eyes are beautiful. 
 She has a voice like the fall of water on a summer's day ; and 
 no young doe is more graceful in movement and figure. 'Tis 
 a comely maiden, without doubt. What a wife she'll make 
 for somebody ! For the matter of that, why not for me ? I 
 want no pale-faced doll, with weak nerves and headaches, but 
 one of tact and spirit, able to keep the roof overhead while I 
 am away. Perhaps to ride and shoot upon occasions. She 
 may suit me, and it would be a blessed thing for the people on 
 the plantation to have such a mistress. I have no one to please 
 but myself My sister and my cousin Elizabeth, being of the 
 Old Dominion blood, might object to the gypsy. But, what 
 then ? I'll have my way ! They need not know it at first. 
 She might pass for a Spanish Creole, and, as she says, the oldest 
 families of British descent are but people of yesterday to hers. 
 It may come about." 
 
 Now here was a shocking instance of disregard of the beau- 
 tiful principles of woman's rights. The man partly settles the 
 matter in his own mind, as though whatever he desired must 
 govern ; and this has always been the way with the male 
 tyrant, against whom America and Britain now afford some 
 prospects of successful rebellion. Perhaps Miriam was not to 
 be overborne in this off-hand manner. She had already put 
 
 the on, and might assert her " rights." Meantime, she 
 
 remained near the rock, and watched Sassafras until his form 
 and horse were hid as he dashed into the bushes on the slope 
 of the further hill. Then, O lamentable truth ! it appeared 
 that she had not the spirit to assert her " rights." In spite of 
 her descent and independent habits, in spite of her arms, her 
 paint and feathers, and her very handsome trousers, she proved 
 as ready to meekly meet the half-advances of the "horrid 
 man," as any maiden of Anglo-Saxon lineage. 
 
 " Heigho !" she exclaimed. " He is well-born and well-to- 
 do. Bold, brave and honest. Far from bad-looking, to my 
 mind. Much better than the youth of cream-and-strawberry 
 complexions in England. This is a man ! No gypsy can 
 compare with him. Besides, I don't want a gypsy husband, 
 sleeping in the tents or the fern all day, and poaching all night. 
 
232 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 The ties that bind me to the tribe are thin and ^Yorn. I love 
 the pleasant fields and thick overhanging woods of dear Old 
 England, and their green glades in the gloaming, when the 
 leverets play. Her kindly people have done well by me. I 
 love the scent of violets in the spring, of rich bean blossoms 
 in the summer days, the cuckoo's quaint and distant call, the 
 coo of cushats to their nesting mates, the songs of birds from 
 every bush and brake, the carol of the lark, unseen in the 
 bright, blue sky, and the sweet sound of bells upon the breeze. 
 Heigho ! ' It was a lover and his lass that thro' the green 
 corn-fields did pass.' " 
 
 CHAPTEK XXV. 
 
 "Full moon, high sea, 
 Great man shalt thou be ! 
 Red dawning, stormy sky, 
 Bloody death shalt thou die." 
 
 IN the wild section of country to the southeast of the trading 
 post, and in a rough gorge between the broken hills. Cap- 
 tain Staples had made his camp for a short but indefinite time. 
 Instead of going south, or a little to the westward of south, 
 as he would have done had he sought the best route homeward 
 from the fort, he had travelled due east for many miles, and 
 then abruptly southeast by south through a sort of pass in the 
 broken ridges. In the rocky gorge which now contained his 
 ^vagons and animals, he had halted a night and a day. An- 
 other night was coming on apace. The sun nearly touched 
 the tops of the trees which crowded the ridges to the west- 
 ward, and the clouds in that quarter of the sky were edged 
 with crimson and gold, like tents with royal fringe, for the 
 reception of the retiring day. A cool breeze blowing from 
 the northwest gave some tokens of freshening into a gale as 
 the darkness came on. 
 
 The captain moved about his encampment with an air of 
 dogged resolution mixed with impatience. He spoke neither 
 to Keeps nor Kirby, and regarded Jagger with glances which 
 indicated anger and contempt. As the shades fell and the 
 loom of the hills w^as cloaked with the approaching darkness, 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 233 
 
 a mounted Indian came into the camp. The man looked fresh 
 and able to stand much greater fatigue than he had under- 
 gone, but his horse had evidently been ridden fast and far 
 since the dawn of day. The captain took the Indian aside, 
 and they held a brief conference, partly in English and partly 
 in the Choctaw tongue. The first part appeared to be very 
 satisfactory to Captain Staples, but not the last. The Indian 
 either gave a dogged denial to some assertion made by the old 
 man, or met some proposition of his with a flat rejection. 
 
 The captain retired to his tent and called for Keeps, who 
 was close at hand. He found Staples seated on a bundle of 
 horse-clothes and buffalo robes. His elbows were upon his 
 knees, his head rested on his hands, and with his hard, dark 
 face he looked like some ugly idol of the heathen. The demi- 
 john containing his " medicine " was between his legs. He 
 first invited Keeps to drink, and even told him to pour out for 
 himself The henchman speedily made avail of this unusual 
 liberality and confidence by securing about half a pint of the 
 liquor before the demijohn left his hands. It may be doubted 
 whether, in any of the brawls and rough-and-tumble fights in 
 which he had been engaged, this worthy had ever gripped a 
 throat with more resolution and tenacity than he clasped the 
 neck of the huge bottle on this occasion. But, although the 
 captain saw the dimensions of the dram his man was pouring 
 out, he made no effort to check him. Thereupon Keeps maade 
 up his mind that his services would soon be in request for some 
 extraordinary purpose. After smacking his lips with much 
 satisfaction, he lit his pipe, and took a seat opposite his chief, 
 inw^ardly determined to make a good bargain before he con- 
 sented to go beyond the terms of his engagement. The captain 
 looked at Keeps some time before he spoke. The henchman 
 looked at him in turn, as much as to say : " We understand 
 one another. Out with it !" 
 
 " Keeps," said Staples, "I believe there is confidence between 
 you and me. I think each of us knoW'S the other means fair, 
 between man and man, eh ?" 
 
 " Ay, ay ! That's all right, but come to the p'int. AVhat 
 is a-going to put this confidence on trial ?" 
 
 " You don't like the idea of being robbed by Sassafras. I 
 think you've no confidence in him, and his way of grabbing 
 everything, eh, Keeps?" said the old man, feeling his way. 
 
234 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " As to grabbing, I never had the good fortune to meet any 
 of them excellent people \vhat don't grab \vhen they have a 
 chance, and, speaking in a general way, I've got no confidence 
 in anybody but myself You come to the p'int at once." 
 
 " Very well ! the point is this — shall we sit down, robbed 
 and swindled as we are by Sassafras, or shall we act in confi- 
 dence, and take our own again ?" 
 
 " Who do you call we /" said Keeps. 
 
 " You and me — nobody else ! The Englishman is a fool 
 and coward," returned Staples. 
 
 " We found that out some time ago," returned Keeps. 
 
 " I believe we did," said Staples. " I have now, however, 
 found something else out, quite as much to the purpose. This 
 idiot, going upon his own conceit, and keeping his doings 
 secret from me — I say from me, Keeps." 
 
 " I hear you. Some would have thought he could not have 
 deceived you easily." 
 
 "They might have thought so; but he did it," replied 
 Staples. " Concealing his operations from me, he walks right 
 into the trap set for him by Sassafras. He lays a bet with 
 this villain at four to one on his White Horse, by which he 
 lost a thousand guineas to the villain, and these golden guineas 
 Sassafras has got. Think of it ! A thousand guineas in gold 
 — coined gold — British gold ! Ain't you astonished ?" 
 
 « No, I ain't," replied Keeps. " I knew all about it before 
 you spoke a w^ord." 
 
 « You knew all about it ! Shall I hear next that you were 
 in with Sassafras, and helped the villain to deceive and plun- 
 der this — this " 
 
 " Fool and idiot !" said Keeps. " No, you won't hear that. 
 I knew nothing of it until your friend, the gentleman, told me 
 all about it soon after we reached this camping-ground." 
 
 The old man paused in thought. He desired Keeps to take 
 another drink. Staples then said ; " Perhaps this gentleman 
 also told you who he really is ?" 
 
 " He did. I assured him I must know everything before I 
 could do him any good. The truth is, captain, that he is 
 mortally afraid of you, and will turn on you at the first oppor- 
 tunity. But for the money he has at New^ Orleans, and the 
 fear that somebody from England will lay an embargo on it, 
 
THE WHITE HOESE OF WOOTTOK 235 
 
 he would have left our jDarty and gone off with Sassafras to 
 St. Jo." 
 
 Captain Staples relieved his feelings by a few round oaths 
 and some remarks touching the ingratitude of mankind in 
 general, and that part of it with whom it was his misfortune 
 to come in contact in particular. He then said : 
 
 " With all his foolishness, this fellow is as big a rogue as 
 Sassafras himself. But for all that, we must get back his 
 money from the villain." 
 
 The henchman looked at his chief with a cunning and an 
 eager eye, one in which insatiable greed, with cruel resolution 
 and abundant craft, shone deadly and red. 
 
 " Yes, we must get back this gold for him." The hench- 
 man's countenance fell. " And for ourselves, Keeps. In a 
 venture like this we shall be entitled to keep about three- 
 fourths of what is recovered." 
 
 " I'll be d — d if we shan't be fully entitled to keep it all. 
 I go in for Keeps, and nothing else," said Keeps in reply. 
 " This man is useless — not able to get a dollar of it, or to help 
 us in any way. Then why should he have any of it ?" 
 
 " For two reasons," replied Staples. " He has money and 
 means at Orleans, and he might make trouble when he gets 
 there. We have enemies at Orleans, Keeps." 
 
 " He may never get there. I got no use for him there, if 
 we are to lose a pot of money by his going there." 
 
 " But hear the other reason. There is another very strong 
 reason why we must treat him as a partner. It is this : Sas- 
 safras is not the man to give up the gold quietly, or to rest 
 easy under the loss after it has been recovered. He'll raise 
 h — 11 from St. Anthony's Falls to the passes of the river below 
 Orleans, and from St. Jo. to the Rocky Mountains. The villain 
 has many friends. Most of them are villains of his own stamp ! 
 Now^ by acting in the name of Grosvernor, Jagger, or whatever 
 it may please him to call himself next, and taking the money 
 as his property — property he has been swindled out of — we 
 shall do a right and justifiable thing, and public opinion, when 
 we reach the part where there is any uncorrupted by Sassafras 
 and villains of his character, will sustain us." 
 
 " Yes, but what will public opinion say about our giving this 
 man the money back ?" said Keeps. 
 
236 TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " That is altogether another matter. Don't you see that 
 Jagger, being what he is, dare not make trouble ^vith us, if we 
 but have the name of a little law and right on our side ^ You 
 leave him to me !" 
 
 Keeps was silent. The old man watched his face, and at 
 last caught the cold glitter of his eye. 
 
 " Sassafras will be hard to deal with, hard as the steel of 
 this knife," said Keeps. " Besides, he may not have the gold 
 with him upon this hunt. It may be left in the fort or hid iu 
 a safe cached 
 
 " He will — he will have it !" replied Staples. " Leave it at 
 the fort ! why, Keeps, what are you thinking of? Do you 
 think that I or that you would leave such a sum at the fort, or 
 anywhere else about these parts, when we could carry it with 
 us ? AVhy the fool who brought it from England had sense 
 enough to keep it on his person, although he had me to trust 
 to. Sassafras has the money with him, and I know where- 
 abouts he will be to-morrow, a couple of hours after noon- 
 day." 
 
 " And I know he'll fight like ten tigers, if we are to meet 
 him when he is on horseback with his arms in his hands. That 
 plan will never do. I'm no more afraid of being killed than 
 another, but Sassafras is a dead shot and quick as lightning. 
 Besides, he will not be alone." 
 
 "You had better hear the plan before you condemn it," 
 said Staples. " I do not propose the meeting of him when he 
 has his arms in his hands. By striking his trail an hour after 
 he has passed to-morrow, we may follow and find out where 
 he will camp. We'll take him when he's asleep. If he 
 chooses to fight, rather than give up the man's gold, let him 
 do it. If he is killed, the border will be rid of a villain ; 
 justice and law will be on our side, and what is quite as much 
 to the purpose, we shall have the money. Now there's the 
 plan, and I doubt whether anybody can propose a better one 
 as matters stand." 
 
 " This'll be a tough job," said Keeps, seizing the demijohn 
 uninvited, and pouring out a strong dose of the medicine. 
 
 " Not so tough as you imagine," replied Staples. " Our 
 measures will be well considered. I have intelligence from the 
 Indian, that Sassafras started this morning, with no more than 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 237 
 
 one man in his company, and he a fellow of no account. I 
 can guess whereabouts they will camp to-night. To-morrow 
 we can strike their trail at the camp, and follow it cautiously 
 until we find where they leave their horses to begin their hunt. 
 There or thereabouts they will camp to-morrow night. That 
 being known, we can come up near their camp-fire towards 
 the dead time of night, when they are fast asleep, and — and 
 possess ourselves of this money without any trouble." 
 
 " Not till we have knocked Sassafras square on the head, or 
 put the steel through his heart — to say nothing of the other 
 man," replied Keeps. " Who goes in this business besides us 
 and the Englishman ?" 
 
 " Kirby — we must have Kirby. Not that he'll be wanted 
 to do anything more than be in reserve, in case of accidents," 
 replied Staples. 
 
 " Why not the" Indian ? He could do more, and would 
 come cheaper than Kirby. Kirby is not the man for this quiet 
 midnight work, where the rustle of a leaf might spoil all. His 
 tread is like that of a bull-buffalo upon hard ground. Take 
 the Indian." 
 
 " The Indian refuses to do more than he has done," replied 
 the captain, with some disgust. " He is like all the rest — he 
 must ask his questions, and talk of Sassafras as if he was the 
 only white man worth much on the border. The times are 
 upside down," added the old man, feelingly. " I have seen 
 the day when that Indian would have helped to do anything 
 I proposed, no questions asked." After a few minutes, proba- 
 bly spent in silent regret over the degeneracy of the age from 
 the customs of the good old times, the captain said, " Kirby 
 will not earn, and must not have, much of the money. He 
 cannot in conscience ask more than one, or at most two, hun- 
 dred dollars. There will be nothing for him to do, but to 
 keep ward, while you and I settle the business." 
 
 " The main part of which settlement," said Keeps, " will de- 
 pend upon me. Now, it is a transaction that ought to be well 
 paid for. It ain't like killing an Indian or two, or making 
 use of a pistol or knife in a fight or a frolic. It requires 
 talents of a particular sort, and nerves of a peculiar order. 
 Them talents and nerves, I may say witliout boasting, I have 
 got ; but I shall not use 'em for nothing. Besides, look at the 
 
238 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 strain it puts upon the conscience to crawl in like a wolf at 
 night and kill a good man asleep upon his back. You'll allow 
 Sassafras to be a real good man of his heft and inches?" 
 
 There was a sort of low growl from the chest of Staples, 
 who saw what this prelude, especially the allusion of Keeps 
 to the strain upon his conscience, was tending to. He made 
 a motion to the henchman, signifying that he should go on. 
 
 " Well, then," said Keeps, " I'll come to the p'int ! After 
 the Englishman's and Kirby's shares have been set off, there 
 will be about seven hundred sovereigns left. That is to be 
 equally divided between you and me." 
 
 " I don't see it in that light," said Staples, with some show 
 of alarm and discontent. " Consider the trouble and expense 
 I have been put to. Consider that I have planned the thing, 
 and that you are to help in the execution of it only — a mere 
 trifle ! a mere trifle. Keeps ! I could do it all myself!" 
 
 " You couldn't do it at all, and you know it," replied the 
 henchman. " In the first place, you are a little afeared of 
 Sassafras, and, asleep or awake, I shall have to deal with him. 
 Then, again, you are getting old and stiff, and would be sure 
 to rouse him, with pistol in one hand and knife in the other, 
 and get sent to kingdom-come instead of touching the money. 
 You can't get the first piece of this gold except through me, 
 and I'm resolved that the work which can only be done by 
 my ability, and with wear and tear upon my conscience, shall 
 be well paid for, if it is done at all !" 
 
 " Your conscience !" cried Staples, in a rage. " How many 
 men have you killed in your time, conscience or no con- 
 science ?" 
 
 " I don't know as I could exactly say, because I have 
 always thought that two who were shot by me, in difficulties, 
 would have recovered if the doctors hadn't killed 'em, so they 
 ought not to be counted," replied Keeps. " But this I do say, 
 that I never killed a man when he was asleep to get hold of 
 money, and as I think that likely to be a very difierent thing 
 upon the conscience to using pistol or knife in a promiscuous 
 and general way, I'm determined not to do it for nothing. If 
 half the seven hundred isn't enough for you, fix the matter 
 yourself, and count me out." 
 
 The old man was furious at what he considered the uncon- 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 239 
 
 scionable greed of liis accomplice, but as he could discover no 
 means of getting anything without the active aid of Keeps he 
 suppressed his rage. He made, however, a mental resolution 
 to secure the lion's share by some means or other, if it was 
 possible, before they reached the settlements. He signified his 
 assent to the arrangement named by Keeps, and again recited 
 his plan of action, going over the details in a slow, methodical 
 way, as though the business was nothing out of the common 
 order of things. Yet they both knew and felt that it was. 
 Staples had, in all probability, been at midnight massacres, 
 but it was in Indian warfare, and sanctioned in the minds of 
 such as he, as reprisals. Keeps had slain more than three or 
 four men, but it was when they were upon their legs, and not 
 for money. They did not attempt to di^^guise from themselves 
 the atrocity of the contemplated deed, but the magnitude of 
 the prize to be obtained overbore it, and the younger, but, at 
 that day, hardier villain of the two, " bent up each corporal 
 agent to the terrible feat." 
 
 The mode of operations being settled. Keeps, while still ap- 
 pearing to defer to the captain as his leader, virtually took the 
 ordering of affairs into his own hands. He wished Staples to 
 say nothiug to Kirby or to Jagger. The less said the better. 
 With any knowledge of the plan in hand Jagger would cause 
 much trouble, and by his fears and foolishness might do some- 
 thing which would bring about its defeat. It was bad enough 
 to have to pay him, without letting him know of the scheme. 
 As for Kirby, if he was told, he would be sure to interfere 
 with the carrying out of the project when the crisis of action 
 came ; besides which, he would claim a larger share of the 
 money than they designed he should have if they took him 
 into their confidence. 
 
 " There is," said he, " no call to let them know how much 
 we get when it is over." 
 
 Soon after it was day the four men mounted their horses and 
 rode from the camp. Kirby did not care to ask where they 
 were going or the object of the expedition. Jagger was afraid 
 to do so. The old man led the way, winding among the hills, 
 but holding a course as straight as was practicable to the west 
 of south. On they went. Staples never speaking and Keeps 
 cutting Jagger short when the latter attempted to open a con- 
 
240 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 versation with him. It was past the hour of noon and their 
 steeds were becoming jaded, when they struck the trail Sassa- 
 fras and Tom Scarlet had made in the morning. Keeps gave 
 it but a glance before spurring hastily to the side of Staples. 
 
 " Trouble is ahead," said he in a whisper, wherein surprise 
 and ferocity were blended. " Three horses have passed here 
 instead of two. That devilish Indian has played you false. 
 He went off before day ; he has joined them, and Sassafras 
 knows that we are upon his trail. It'll come to a fight, and 
 w^e are but three to three, for I count Jagger less than nobody. 
 Besides, they'll have the first fire, for Sassafras will ambush 
 us. What's to be done?" 
 
 " It can't be !" said Staples. " It ain't possible ! But if the 
 Indian has done this, then there's no more honesty, no more 
 faith between man and man, in this world, and the sooner it 
 goes to blazes the better. What I have done for that Indian 
 nobody knows but me, and it's past telling, for my feelings is 
 such that I can't tell it. I paid him well for this service. 
 That is, I promised in case of success to " 
 
 "That's it," said Keeps, savagely. "You're so infernal 
 stingy. Why didn't you give him a matter of twenty or 
 thirty dollars in hand, and whiskey enough to get drunk upon 
 last night, and to keep drunk upon to-day ? Wait here till I 
 come back." 
 
 With this Keeps dismounted, threw his bridle-rein to Staples 
 and entered the bushes. He carefully examined the trail for 
 some minutes, passing along by the side of it for several rods. 
 AVhen he returned to Staples his face had brightened up, and 
 he re-inspired the old man's confidence in the world, and the 
 stability of things in general, by informing him that one of 
 the tracks had been made by a led horse. 
 
 They now pricked ahead, following the trail, and keeping a 
 good lookout, expecting to come upon some signs that Sassa- 
 fras and his companion had dismounted and hobbled their 
 horses, to begin the hunt. But hours passed, and the trail 
 still led them direct, as in that country might be, for the Neo- 
 sho river. They came to a place where Keeps and the captain 
 could see that Sassafras and his companion had dismounted 
 and halted to bait their horses and refresh themselves, but be- 
 yond that the trail again led due south. Staples was puzzled. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 9^1 
 
 It was a good hunting country, with plenty of grass and fine 
 water. Deer had been seen from time to time, and with diffi- 
 culty Keeps had prevented Kirby from firing at a fine buck 
 which presented the mark behind the shoulder at less than 
 fifty yards. The henchman, after some thought, reached a 
 conclusion, and spurred forward to tell the old man what he 
 believed. 
 
 " Captain," said he, " we are on a stern chase. Sassafras 
 means to camp to-night over the water. He is bound right 
 for the Neosho, and will not pull bridle until his horses go 
 down the face of the bluff into the river to swim across That's 
 how it is." 
 
 " It looks like it. O, he's a crooked-minded villain, and 
 always the cause of no end of trouble to whoever has any trans- 
 actions with him ! Any other man would have camped on this 
 side, and matters would have been, in a measure, easy. What 
 do you think we ought to do now, Keeps, to get even with 
 him ?" 
 
 " There is but one thing to do," replied Keeps. " We must 
 cross ourselves before night sets in. We can't swim it in the 
 dark hours. The bluffs are bold and high. The river is nar- 
 row, swift and deep, and may be in fresh, for it has looked as 
 though there had been rain about its head-waters. The man 
 and horse who once get below the landing-place on the other 
 side will be in the rapids, and never reach the east bank alive. 
 We must ride as fast as we can, to get to the stream by sun- 
 down. Once over, I'll undertake to find the camp-fire of Sas- 
 safras, which will be pretty near the crossing !" 
 
 " Enough !" said the old man. *' Let us go ahead !" 
 
 " One thing more," returned Keeps. " If Jagger swims his 
 horse over, and lands, it will be more by luck than judgment, 
 the river being high." 
 
 " A terrible peril !" replied Staples ; " for when he finds he's 
 lost, the fool, instead of taking it as a man ought to do, will 
 screech before the water stops his mouth, and Sassafras may 
 hear his cry. This comes of acting with a chicken-hearted 
 follow. I tell you, Keeps, when this thing is over, I'll have 
 no concern with anybody but men like you." 
 
 " As to his screeching, it is nothing," said Keeps. " He 
 mav screech as loud as a panther, and nobody will hear him 
 16 
 
242 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 over the roar of the lower rapids, so as to know where the cry 
 comes from, or what it is. Besides, he'll be too frightened to 
 screech, when he finds that he's a-going down the river towards 
 the roar of the broken water below. His heart will be in his 
 mouth, and all he'll do will be to hang on like grim death 
 'round his horse's neck." 
 
 " So it will — so it will, Keeps ! Let us go ahead," said the 
 old man, cheerfully. 
 
 " I thought you said it was necessary that he should reach 
 Orleans," said Keeps. 
 
 " So it is in one way," replied Staples. " The money in the 
 bank will not be paid over without him, or without his order." 
 
 " Which you can get, knowing men skilful in write of hand," 
 replied Keeps. 
 
 " I don't know about that. Still, if anything should happen 
 to him in a providential sort of way, we shall have the money 
 from Sassafras all to ourselves. It might be best for us, and 
 would be different from what you proposed." 
 
 " I proposed nothing," said Keeps, " except that, as he is 
 useless in the recovery of the money, it would be throwing it 
 away to give him any. However, let him take his chance. 
 It will be a poor one if we linger longer, and have to take the 
 stream between daylight and dark. Go ahead ! I could wish 
 he was mounted on a better horse ; but in that case a good 
 one might be lost ! Go ahead !" 
 
 While this hurried conversation was proceeding, the subject 
 of it, ignorant of the probable impending fate which had been 
 so coolly and heartlessly discussed, had endeavored to ascer- 
 tain from Kirby the object of the expedition. He was hun- 
 gry, weary and miserable. The burly border man, revolving 
 his tobacco in his cheek, did not reply. In fact, Kirby was 
 mentally proposing the same question to himself!, and being 
 unable to find any answer, made up his mind to require Keeps 
 to speak out v;hen they should again go on. But he had no 
 opportunity to do this, as the henchman led the way when they 
 started, and rode rapidly, in spite of obstacles, while Kirby 
 himself had to bring up the rear in Indian file. But fast as 
 they now travelled, the sun set while they were yet a mile 
 from the river. The ground now rose in a slope, thickly tim- 
 bered, to the top of the bluff above the fast-ffowing stream. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 243 
 
 Keeps and Staples were now convinced that Sassafras had 
 crossed, and was in the bottom laud on the other side of the 
 bluifs which formed the left bank. There he would make his 
 camp for the night — the night they meant to be his last. The 
 crossing of the river before darkness set in was their only aim. 
 Considering that to be equivalent to success, Keeps cried, 
 « Come on ! There is no time to lose ! Come on ! The d — 1 
 take the hindmost; for the- crossing is bad enough by day I 
 Spur on, man !" he added to dagger ; " keep at my horse's 
 girths ! Mind how you go down the face of the bluff, which 
 is steep ; and when in the water don't, for your life, let your 
 horse get his head down stream !" As he rode on he muttered 
 complacently, " I've done my duty by you, whatever happens, 
 and more than many would have done under the circum- 
 stances ; for if by following my advice you save your bacon 
 and get safe over, I shall lose about a hundred and fifty 
 sovereigns by the operation." 
 
 Through brush and tangled vines, over the trunks and arms 
 of fallen trees, in the deep vegetable mold of the primeval 
 forest, they forced their reeking horses, and at length reached 
 the top of the bluff, high over the swollen river. Then broke 
 upon the sight of Keeps and Staples that which made them 
 feel their scheme of midnight murder to be abortive. In the 
 gray twilight which hung over the waters, they saw the men 
 they had pursued and were themselves seen. Upon a shelf of 
 gravel, three parts of the way up the opposite bluff, stood Tom 
 Scarlet, holding the White Horse by the rein. Further up, 
 on the crown of it, was Sassafras, between the other two 
 horses, and with his face to the river. As Staples and his 
 men appeared in sight, the young Englishman hallooed and 
 stretched out his arm, while the more wary and practised 
 border man wheeled one of the horses quickly, so as to cover 
 his own person. But for that, the rifle of Staples would have 
 had another mark. As it was, the furious old man, shooting 
 from the back of his horse, hit Tom Scarlet in the head and 
 tumbled him into the river. The White Horse bounded up 
 the bluff. At the shot. Staples, Keeps and Kirby threw them- 
 selves from their saddles and dodged behind the nearest trees. 
 Jagger, agape with fear and astonishment, remained gazing on 
 the opposite bank for a moment. In that moment there was 
 
244 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 a flash, and before the report reached the nearest of the echo- 
 ing hills, he fell from his horse dead. Sassafras had shot him 
 through the brain. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 "Like one that on a lonesome road 
 
 Doth walk in fear and dread, 
 And, having once turned round, walks on 
 
 And turns no more his head, 
 Because he knows a frightful fiend 
 
 Doth close behind him tread.'' 
 
 DARKNESS had nearly fallen, a welcome cloak to the 
 living, and a pall over the ghastly dead, in that solitary 
 place, before there was any movement made on either side of 
 the river. No sound had been heard from the left bank after 
 the tramp of the White Horse and the other two on that side, 
 as they galloped away when Sassafras fired. AYhether the 
 latter had gone after them, or remained upon the bluff, was 
 uncertain to the three men in cover on the right bank. The 
 silence was profound, for the beasts of chase and prey had fled 
 at the sharp cracks of the two rifles. Keeps and Kirby had 
 taken cover near each other, while the hiding-place of Staples 
 ■was at a little distance. The former, perceiving, as though by 
 intuition, that the state of parties, as statesmen and politicians 
 have it, was likely to be much changed by the late events, 
 determined to be beforehand with the old man, and strike up 
 a close alliance with the stalwart, but slow-witted Kirby. 
 With a view to that end he wired himself silently to the side 
 of the latter, and whispered to him such information concerning 
 the expedition as he deemed most likely to forward his own 
 purpose and prejudice him against Staples. At length the 
 latter believed that it was safe to move. Coming from his 
 cover, and calling to Keeps in a low voice, he stood near the 
 corpse of the fallen man, and waited for his henchman to rise. 
 The latter had now communicated to Kirby what he called 
 the facts of the matter, true enough in the main, but so glossed 
 as to conceal the truth, that he had himself been just as eager 
 to make a blind tool of his companion as Staples was. They 
 joined the old man, and all three bent over the dead body. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 245 
 
 "which lay with the pale face — a small red hole in the centre 
 of the forehead — turned up towards the sky. 
 
 " He's as dead as mutton," said Keeps, with no more emo- 
 tion than he would have displayed over the carcass of a sheep. 
 " It was a good shot and true — killed clean, which is a sort 
 of consolation, for I hate to see 'em writhing about in agony, 
 and trying to speak after they are mortally hit. If I ain't 
 killed clean and dead when my time comes, I shall be obliged 
 to anybody as will put his knife through my heart. This, 
 under the circumstances, was a splendid shot. I always 
 knowed Sassafras was a master of his weapon. If there was 
 anybody here who had curiosity on the p'int, and a small- 
 toothed saw, he might find the bullet flattened against the 
 back of the skull inside. As for the other man, if anybody 
 looked for him, which nobody is likely to do, he might be 
 found fifteen or tw^enty mile below, down among the catfish. 
 And I'll bet anybody two to one he wasn't killed as neat and 
 nice by the shot as this one here. When Sassafras kills with 
 a rifle he does it artistic, and I have heard si.y that he is very 
 quick and judgmatical with his knife, too." 
 
 " Hold your infernal tongue," said Staples, gruffly. " To 
 hear you gabbling on about it, anybody might think you was 
 preaching a funeral sermon. It was a cursed chance! just 
 such as nobody but Sassafras would have brought about. If 
 I had shot the villain himself there would be some satisfac- 
 tion." 
 
 "Ay! but Sassafras is not going to be shot so easy," said 
 Keeps. " He wheeled a horse before him quicker than wink ; 
 and must have shot under the throttle when he tumbled Jag- 
 ger out of the saddle. As you couldn't kill him, you had no 
 right to shoot at all. We might have kept on their trail, and 
 got a chance to do something or another that would have 
 paid. Sassafras might finally have been settled, and then we 
 could have grabbed the money." 
 
 This seemed to remind the old man that something of that 
 sort might be done upon a small scale then, and had better be 
 set about as soon as possible. Muttering to himself, he went 
 down upon his knees as though about to pray. But Keeps 
 knew better than this, and watched him with tiger-like inter- 
 est. Undoing the coat and shirt of the dead man, Staples 
 
246 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 quickly removed that which was round the body. He proba- 
 bly thought that in the dim light the belt would be unobserved, 
 but in this he was mistaken. Weighing it for an instant in his 
 hand, as if to estimate the quantity of the contents, he proceeded 
 to secure it round his own stout loins. The performance did 
 not meet the approbation of Keeps. Nudging Kirby to second 
 him, he said : 
 
 " The belt which you have grabbed, according to what I 
 was told by the owner, contains a certain amount of gold. 
 That gold must be turned out and counted, so that it may be 
 accounted for. It must be held in charge of all three, not of 
 one ; and we must each have a third to take care of — eh, 
 Kirby?" 
 
 " It is in charge now, and will remain there," replied Sta- 
 ples, rising rather hurriedly. "I'll take care of it. You 
 needn't trouble yourselves at all. What you have got to do 
 is to look out for this desperate and dangerous villain. Sassa- 
 fras !" 
 
 *' I think I had better look out a little for the carrying out 
 of the bargain we made at the camp," said Keeps. 
 
 "O, the bargain!" replied Staples. "Of course we must 
 stick to the bargain when we get the m^oney Sassafras holds. 
 It may not be very soon, lads, for the villain has three horses, 
 a rifle, plenty of powder and ball, and knows the country we 
 are in like a book. This trifle of money I have taken into 
 possession don't come into the bargain at all." 
 
 " Don't it !" replied Keeps with an ominous voice. " Then 
 it must be counted over, and taken charge of for the man's 
 friends." 
 
 " The man's nearest and dearest friend has got it," said Sta- 
 ples. " He owed me a sight of money, and what I do is lawful 
 and right. I'm his administrator, executor de bonis non, if 
 you know what that means !" 
 
 " I can't say that I do," said Kirby. 
 
 " Nor I," said Keeps, " unless it means the good of nobody 
 but himself I want to know more about this." 
 
 " Bring up the horses, Kirby," said Staples. 
 
 "Don't be in a hurry, captain," said Keeps. "When the 
 horses are brought up we may ride diflerent roads ; for if you 
 are going to collar everything, and never say ' turkey' once 
 to us, here we part !" 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 247 
 
 " If you want this gold, or any part of it, you can't have 
 it," replied Staples, with firmness and decision. 
 
 " We don't want the gold,", said the veracious Keeps. 
 "Being as it belongs to a dead man, and blood on every piece 
 of it, we wouldn't touch it, to keep it, on any account. It is 
 not the gold, my venerable friend, as I heard the preacher 
 say when he chiseled you at seven-up, with aces hid in his 
 boots, but the principle of the thing ! We want fair dealing 
 between man and man, and if we can't have that, here we 
 part ! We split upon the p'int of honor ! D — n the gold ! 
 Eh, Kirby?" 
 
 " Certainly, I say so !" replied Kirby. 
 
 " Now, was the like ever heard ?" said Staples, as if appeal- 
 ing to an audience. " Honor ! I'm the soul of honor ! as 
 everybody knows with whom I ever had dealings. I don't 
 think even Sassafras could deny that. If ever I seem to 
 depart from the strictest principles of honor in my dealings, 
 it is when I'm bothered and pestered by rogues and fools." 
 
 " Who do you call rogues and fools ?" cried Keeps, with 
 some heat. " Who put up a double cross against Sassafras and 
 this man who lies dead here, and then got ' coppered' by Sas- 
 safras, and was beat at every point of the game? You ride 
 away, and we will take our way." 
 
 " Who is to bury this man ?" said Kirby. " You ought to 
 do it, captain, if you keep his money." 
 
 "Let Sassafras bury him — he killed him," replied Staples. 
 " There's another thing," he added : " If I go alone I shall 
 take all of these horses ; they all belong to me." 
 
 "Perhaps you would like to take this, too," said Keeps, 
 advancing the muzzle of his gun until it was close to the old 
 man's breast. "I told you I had scruples about killing a 
 sleeping man, when you proposed this business to me. I now 
 tell you that I shall have none at all about killing you, if you 
 will bring on a fight." 
 
 " It will not come to a fight," said Kirby. " The captain 
 "will go away and leave us to hoe our own row." 
 
 " The captain might be followed," said Staples. 
 
 He felt that it might be a good deal better and safer to 
 have Keeps before rather than behind him. 
 
 " Besides, you can't get out of this country without my help. 
 
248 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 I brought you in, and I only can take you out. You dare not 
 go near the fort." 
 
 " We dare go anywhere," replied Keeps. " As to the coun- 
 try, I know it about as well as you do. You might try to 
 make it hot for us, if you dared stay in these parts, but you 
 don't. Every minute you remain here is worth a drop of blood 
 out of your heart. The mules won't be in your wagons before 
 Sassafras and the Indians are after you, and they'll never leave 
 your trail until your scalp swings at Cinnamon's belt. Go 
 your way, old man ! We shall be much safer anywhere than 
 in your company. Sassafras and the chief are a brace of true 
 bloodhounds. When they come upon you, hand over hand, 
 see w^hether that gold will stop a ball like the one that killed 
 Jagger. No wonder you w^ant us to go with you." 
 
 The truth of this was so obvious, as well as dispiriting, that 
 the captain was unable to reply. He looked at the moon, 
 which had just risen over the mountains to the eastward, and 
 now threw a shimmering light among the leafy boughs of the 
 tree-tops. It was, in one sense, welcome, for it would help him 
 to pick the best paths through his rugged way ; but in another 
 it might bring danger and death upon him, even before the 
 morning. There was no know ing what so bold and active a man 
 as Sassafras might undertake in a pressing emergency. The 
 river was a very formidable obstacle to any immediate pursuit 
 by him, but, aided by the light of the moon, he might cross 
 it. Should he do so, the captain would be well pleased that 
 Keeps and Kirby would be on the bank to delay, if not to kill 
 him. If they had left before he crossed, their tracks might 
 divert his attention from the captain's own, and in this way 
 give him valuable time. 
 
 " It would be a blessed thing," muttered Staples, " if these 
 three unmitigated villains would meet, fight a Welsh main 
 right here, and kill one another !" 
 
 With this he mounted his horse and rode down the slope, 
 not without misgivings that something hot and swift might be 
 sent whistling after him before he was out of sight. He plunged 
 at once into the thick brush among the largest trees. The 
 dim, retreating figure of the old man was still visible to the 
 practised, cat-like eyes of the men behind, when Keeps dropped 
 on his right knee, and levelled his rifle. His left elbow was 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 249 
 
 ou his left knee, the hand supporting and steadying the heavy 
 barrel like a rest. His finger was upon the trigger.^ 
 
 " He is yet in sight," said Keeps, in a hissing whisper. " I 
 have him in line by two trees, and can break his backbone at 
 a single shot." 
 
 " Hold on I" said Kirby, catching him by the shoulder. 
 The rifle was fired, but the bullet flew wide of the mark 
 Keeps would no doubt have hit, had he fired without inter- 
 ference from Kirby, and the old man spurred rapidly on with- 
 out looking round, but turning short to the right. Keeps 
 loaded his rifle, and seating himself on the ground, produced 
 dried buffalo meat from his scrip, and desired Kirby to sit 
 down and eat. 
 
 "You should not have grabbed hold of me," said Keeps. 
 " I don't think I should have fired, for, barring the money in 
 that belt, the old rascal is worth more to us alive than dead. 
 It is him that Sassafras will be after in the first place. He 
 has heard that shot, though, and is just now considering what 
 it can mean. But no matter ! When he crosses the river he 
 will do one of two things — go northwest with all speed to the 
 fort and bring up his Indians, or strike the trail Staples is now 
 making, and follow it. In either case the old man is a gone 
 captain, and we shall be safe for the present. You'll owe me 
 another life, Kirby. This is three times I have saved your 
 bacon." 
 
 " I don't see that it h saved yet," said the giant. 
 " Yes, it is ! We shall jog along down the river while the 
 hunt goes on up it. If we determine to go into the fort we 
 shall have a clear road from below ; or we can keep to the 
 woods until from some Indian or hunter belonging to the post 
 we hear when, where, and how Sassafras comes up with Staples 
 and kills him. He's sure to do so within four or five days." 
 " And what then, when we have heard it?" 
 " What then ! why then we will send him word that we have 
 kind of been on his side all along ; that after Staples murdered 
 his friend in that cowardly manner, and committed a sort of 
 highway robbery upon the man as Sassafras killed himself, we 
 could stand it no longer, and fired upon him." 
 
 " We can tell him that in the morning, when he crosses," 
 said Kirby. " That will seem the most straightforw^ard." 
 
250 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " It might, but I don't think it will be best to be about here 
 "when the morning breaks. Before we could get speech of Sas- 
 safras, to make this little explanation, his rifle would go off 
 and tumble one of us over, I would not give much in that 
 case for the chance of the other. I don't mean to be within a 
 mile of Sassafras, from this out, until he sends me word to come. 
 Let us mount and ride away." 
 
 " We must bury this man somehow before we go," said 
 Kirby. 
 
 "Not a bit of it. It was well enough to talk of it, but it 
 would be useless to do it. We might put him in a crevice of 
 the rocks and cover him with stones if we had time and day- 
 light, but what W'Ould be the good ? The wolves and ravens 
 would have him out piece by piece. Take all the tobacco and 
 powder he has on him, and let him lie. I'll have his pistols, 
 and hide his gun. What use a gun ever was to such a man 
 I could never make out, for he couldn't have hit a standing 
 drove of cattle if there w^as another man within half a mile 
 who might be likely to shoot at him." 
 
 With this Keeps mounted his horse and rode slowly away, 
 followed by Kirby, the latter leading the horse which had 
 been ridden by the unfortunate Jagger. 
 
 While these events were passing on the right bank of the 
 Neosho, Sassafras had not been inactive, though cautious and 
 silent, on the left bank. As soon as he had fired the shot 
 which slew Jagger, he threw himself down and reloaded, let- 
 ting the horses run. He then crawled to the top of the bluff 
 again, and surveyed the other bank through the fast-gathering 
 gloom of the coming night. All was still, and he could dis- 
 cover nothing. He sighed as he glanced at the spot where 
 Tom Scarlet had last stood, and a low sound escaped from his 
 lips as the roar of the rapids below, borne upon the wind of 
 the evening, murmured in his ears. After a few minutes spent 
 in bitter reflection, plans for a swift and terrible revenge occu- 
 pied his mind. Rising cautiously and passing down the slope 
 with swift but noiseless strides, he soon came to the horses, 
 quietly grazing. His low whistle brought them to his side. 
 The Young Chief and the spare horse were quickly stripped 
 of their saddles and bridles, and turned loose. The White 
 Horse was hobbled, his bridle removed and a blanket strapped 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 251 
 
 round him over the saddle. Sassafras then placed the spare 
 saddles among the boughs of a sapling, and giving the White 
 Horse a good feed of oats from the saddle-bags, sat down and 
 ate his own supper ^Yhile the steed consumed his feed. He 
 then ascended the slope, and lay down upon the bluff. Sas- 
 safras had not been long there when his quick ear caught the 
 sharp voice of Keeps, raised in the altercation with Staples. 
 The silvery moon rose over the ridge of the dark mountains, 
 and Sassafras slid down to the level on which Tom Scarlet had 
 stood when he was shot. The report of the rifle followed. 
 " They have quarrelled, and there goes one," said the border 
 man to himself. " That was Keeps's rifle. If he has killed 
 old Staples he has cheated me, before his own accursed time 
 has come!" He listened intently, but there was no further 
 sound that he could catch. " Nobody hit ! there was no 
 return ; no screech or imprecation ; no movement to signify 
 of the other two. This may be a plan to draw me over, but 
 I shall wait." He rolled his blanket round him, and, half- 
 seated, half-reclining, fell asleep. 
 
 Before the dawning of the day Sassafras awoke. His first 
 thought was of the fate of his lost friend, whose body had gone 
 down the river into the furious rapids of the rocky pass below. 
 " Grief," said he, " is unavailing, but there remains revenge ! 
 I could almost wish that I had been the man to fail, only in 
 that case I should not have been left to bring these two-legged 
 wolves to their assured and bloody end." Hs strode silently 
 to the top of the bluff and waited until it was light, listening 
 for a movement or sign on the opposite bank. For another hour 
 Sassafras lay upon his breast, his eyes scanning the bluff on 
 the other side, and his ears alert to catch any sound from that 
 quarter. The sun rose red in the eastern board, above the 
 tops of the blue mountains. The man turned to look at it, and 
 said, "Ked dawning! there will be a storm. Ah !" he ex- 
 claimed, after a pause, *' here comes a scout, who will tell me 
 what there is on that bank besides the dead man." 
 
 Far in the eastern sky Sassafras had seen what seemed but 
 a mere speck, but which was, in fact, a large bird of the vul- 
 ture tribe, in full flight for the river, coming with eager wings 
 towards the body which lay with face upturned upon the bluff. 
 No very long time elapsed before the bird swept over Sassafras, 
 
252 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 circled round once or twice above the tree-tops on the other 
 side, and settled slowly down, with wings half spread, upon 
 the dead man's breast. 
 
 " They have gone ! the way is clear for me," said Sassafras. 
 He caught the White Horse and prepared him quickly for a 
 long and rapid journey. The river was soon crossed. As 
 Sassafras led his horse up the steep face of the bluff, the huge 
 bird with horny beak and long, sharp talons was loath to leave 
 its prey, and screamed defiance. It rose lazily, however, to 
 the lower limb of a tree, while Sassafras passed hastily down 
 the slope without looking on the horrid banquet to which it 
 again descended. The single track made by Staples was read- 
 ily found. The mark of the bullet jointly fired by Keeps and 
 Kirby, as it were, was noted on the bark of a sapling. The 
 wary borderer made a wide circuit from the beginning of the 
 trail towards the north, round into the woods, and back to the 
 starting-place. He saw that Staples had turned to the right 
 after having been shot at, but discovered no sign that the other 
 men had pursued him. He found, however, the tracks of three 
 horses going down the river, just beneath the high bluff — that 
 is to say, on the slope between it and the forest. One of these 
 he saw, from the way it had planted its feet, was in leading 
 reins, and kept close to the hip of the ridden horse. 
 
 " They have quarrelled and parted," said Sassafras. " The 
 old man has hurried away for his camp, which must be to the 
 north. The others have gone dowm the river. I must get the 
 chief and two or three of his braves to hunt down Keeps and 
 Kirby. Staples shall be my point. No man but me shall 
 touch a hair of his head. Of the three not one shall escape !" 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 *' Let the great gods 
 
 That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads, 
 Find out their enemies uow !" 
 
 ONE of the heavy storms which sometimes sweep over the 
 great plains from the lofty mountain tops of the north- 
 west had come booming down upon the neighborhood of the 
 trading fort. It blew great guns ! The sky was wild and 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF W COTTON. 253 
 
 ragged, as though tora by a convulsion, and at intervals rain 
 and hail ^ve^e pelted down in thick sheets, whose violence 
 could scarcely be withstood by those who were exposed to it. 
 The gale had set in before the going down of the sun. It had 
 freshened hour after hour, and now, as midnight approached, 
 it raged with increase and excess of fury. Betimes Antoiue 
 and Jules had sheltered the negroes and horses of their party 
 in the shanties near the fort, and taken refuge in the post 
 itself. Cinnamon and his Cheyennes, after providing for their 
 hardy horses as best they might, had betaken themselves to 
 the same building. A large log lire blazed upon the hearth 
 of the largest room, and some twenty-five men sat around it, 
 some on chairs and benches, some on the floor. The shelter 
 of the place, the heat of the large fire, and the flavor of good 
 tobacco, and a little whiskey, were grateful to all. The enjoy- 
 ment of these comforts was heightened by the howling of the 
 wind and beating of the hail and rain outside. At times the 
 men conversed in low tones, as though unwilling to be heard 
 by the spirits of the air who seemed to carry on howling war 
 without. Once there was a laugh among some of them, but it 
 was shortly hushed, as it seemed to be taken up and repeated 
 in mocking tones and with ten thousand times more power, by 
 the wild wind which swept over the roof and along the walls 
 of the stout building. 
 
 " A real nor'wester, this. The first of the fall. It gives 
 warning that the pleasant days are over, except the short In- 
 dian summer that lights winter in," said Jules. 
 
 " 'Tis a gale that sw^eeps over a wide extent of country — all 
 the great plains," said Antoine. " What say you, Cinnamon ? 
 Does this begin west of the Solomon's Fork ?" 
 
 " The storm," replied the chief, " was born about the Hell 
 Gate Pass of the Rocky Mountains, in the country of the 
 Blackfeet, the Crows and the Sioux. It sweeps around the 
 tall peaks which keep sentinel over the parks, and gathers 
 force as it crosses the plains, until it strikes the sides of the 
 Ozarks. My people have gone to the mountain hollows, but 
 the wind and hail smite my young men, who were here upon 
 the prairies. Let it blow. The Indian is not a child that 
 cannot endure the weather." 
 
 " That is true," said Jules ; " but they'll have a rough time 
 
254 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 of it, to my miud ; and so ^vill Sassafras and his companion on 
 the other side of the Neosho." 
 
 " Sassafras is a man of the plains and woods," replied the 
 chief. " He knows how to provide against the storm and to 
 withstand it. He is in the timber laud. The axe hung at his 
 saddle-bow. The trees will fall, and he will make a wigwam 
 amoug the branches. The Golden Bough may suffer, but he 
 is strong." 
 
 " For all that, I wish they were here with us, before the 
 fire," said Miriam Cotswold, who, still attired and painted as 
 a young Kiowa, sat between Cinnamon and Autoine, and a 
 little further back than either of them. She had spoken so 
 as not to be heard by most of the company, and soon added : 
 "It is a fearful night. There are howls and shrieks and 
 moans in the air, as if the fiends had broken loose and flown 
 up to rage between the earth and sky. I with our friends 
 were here !" 
 
 A silence followed, broken only from time to time by a 
 word or two among the men and the flare of the fire as the 
 logs blazed on the hearth. 
 
 " Hark !" said Miriam, placing her hands on the shoulders 
 of Cinnamon and Antoine. "Did you hear anything? I 
 thought there was a voice in the uproar of the elements." 
 
 " I hear the wolves howl in the gulches to windward, no- 
 thing more," replied the Frenchman. 
 
 " Antoine, the Singing Bird is right !" said the chief " There 
 again is the voice of a man. Sassafras is at hand. Unbar the 
 door, and let my friend tell us what brings him back." 
 
 Campau and Antoine sprang to the door, while the other 
 men rose to their feet. As soon as the fastenings were undone 
 the door was thrown back by a strong gust, and the rain and 
 hail came beating in. Another moment and Sassafras entered, 
 leading the White Horse. Their appearance denoted the 
 hardship of the journey they had made. The man's counte- 
 nance was dark, haggard, and streaked with blood from cuts 
 upon his cheeks and forehead, made by the boughs of trees 
 and tall underbrush through which he had ridden at a great 
 rate. His garments were torn almost to tatters, and the water 
 streamed from them. The horse was covered with mud, bleed- 
 ing from cuts and scratches, and evidently very tired. His 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX. 255 
 
 nostrils flared out like the mouths of trumpets, and he blew hard 
 at each beat of his powerful heart and each contraction of his 
 muscular chest. Still his eye was bright, and he moved his 
 lips and ears as Sassafras removed his saddle and bridle and 
 sponged his mouth and eyes. Until he had done this the man 
 said not a word. He then exclaimed : 
 
 " Jules and Antoine, let this horse be looked to, and well 
 carad for. He is a good one — the best I ever rode for a whole 
 day and half a night of storm." 
 
 His eye fell upon ^Miriam Cotswold, and making a sign for 
 the Cheyenne chief and Campau to follow, he led her into an 
 inner room. Here, too, a bright fire blazed upon the hearth, 
 and everything was made snug, as if to defy the storm, and 
 enable people to enjoy gently the warmth and shelter of a 
 place impregnable to the elements. It was Campau's own 
 apartment. Cards had been played earlier in the night, for 
 the pack lay scattered over the rough table, and a stone jug 
 of whiskey was at the head of the bunk bed. Sassafras seized 
 the liquor, and pouring out about half a pint, drank it neat at 
 a draught. 
 
 " A little of that will do the White Horse good as well as 
 me," said he. " Campau, let Antoine have about a pint, and 
 give it to the horse in as much water." 
 
 " The horse is here and will do well. You are here, some- 
 what weather-beaten, it is true, but that is well. Now, where 
 is Tom Scarlet ?" said Miriam Cotswold. 
 
 Sassafras shrunk within himself for a moment, and there 
 was a contraction of his face, as if a pang had struck his 
 heart. His countenance then became firm, his mouth was set, 
 and his dark eyes flashed in the light of the fire. He answered 
 with a stern but troubled voice : " I left him in the Neosho 
 river. He is dead !" 
 
 " O, Sassafras ! the fine young fellow from the dear old land ! 
 You do not, you cannot mean it ?" 
 
 " I would to God it was not so," replied the border man ; 
 " but why try to conceal the truth, even for a few brief hours ? 
 He is dead, and I have come to tell it. Staples killed him at 
 sundown of the day after we left here." 
 
 " Has my friend got the scalp of the Wolverine ?" said the 
 Indian, seizing the handle of his knife. 
 
256 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " Not yet, but he will have it before the moon is three nights 
 older," replied Sassafras. " This is how it happened : We had 
 just swum our horses across the river, which was well up, 
 nearly in flood. I was on the bluff, with two of the bridles 
 in my hands. Tom was on a shelf half-way down, with the 
 AYhite Horse. All at once four men rode up to the top of the 
 bluff' on the other side. I just saw they were Staples, Keeps, 
 Kirby and Jagger. Tom uttered a cry, Staples fired, and 
 down our friend fell into the river. At the shot Staples and 
 the Western men took cover. I fired and killed Jagger." 
 
 " The Snake-Eyes was no more than a squaw," said the chief. 
 " He cannot pay for the life of the fjiend of Sassafras and the 
 Cheyennes. His scalp is too little. It is no good ! I will go 
 upon the war-path, while Sassafras comforts the Singing Bird, 
 and revenge the Golden Bough." 
 
 " You will. Cinnamon, and so will I," said Sassafras. *' The 
 Singing Bird knows that our friend must be avenged. That 
 is all the good we can do for the satisfaction of those to whom 
 he was dear, and it shall be done well. Miriam, for every 
 tear the Rose of Hawk'll will shed for poor Tom, a hundred 
 drops of blood shall follow the bullets and blades of Cinnamon 
 and myself. Chief, we will take horse in the morning, with 
 four or five of your young men, and of the three who went 
 alive from the crossing when it was dark, not one shall escaj^e. 
 Presently, I will tell you which w^ay they took, and where 
 they may be found." 
 
 The face of the chief worked with exultation he made no 
 effort to suppress, and his eyes glowed like the live coals on the 
 hearth. Whatever regret he felt at the untimely fate of Tom 
 Scarlet was as nothing to the ferocious and exceeding joy with 
 which he he heard the ban of extermination pronounced by 
 Sassafras against Staples and his accomplices. Indeed, Cinna- 
 mon was ready enough to make the doom much more sweeping 
 than Sassafras meant it to be. 
 
 " True, my friend," said the savage warrior, with unbridled 
 ferocity. " My knife and the tomahawks of the Cheyennes 
 have been dull — they shall now be sharp. Let Sassafras eat 
 and rest. My young men know where the Wolverine hid his 
 wagons in the hills. Lougwind shall start at break of day, 
 and we will follow. The Golden Bough was as one of the 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 257 
 
 Cheyennes, and my friend. We will avenge him— slay the 
 slayer, and all that belong to his party. AYe can come up 
 with Longwind to-morrow night. The camp of the Wolverine 
 we will then surprise, and put every man in it to the edge of 
 the knife and axe. The blacks being disposed of, we will fol- 
 low the trail of the three whites, take their scalps and those 
 of any other men who cross the war-path. Let Longwind and 
 Three Scalps come into this council." 
 
 " Hold !" said Miriam Cotswold. " AVhat have the negroes 
 done ? Why are they to suffer, poor fellows ?" 
 
 "Done?" said the chief; <' they live in the tents of the 
 Wolverine ; they saddle his horses, cook his food, and clean 
 his guns. They must die ! as the cubs of the wolf, which never 
 did damage, die. Shall Sassafras and the Cheyennes fail to 
 take full revenge? Shall the fair maiden over the sea be 
 cheated of her dues ? No ! when the scalps of the three whites 
 are at the pole of my tent those of the blacks shall hang in the 
 smoke of the pale-face fire at her father's house. I would there 
 were more of them, that she might say * It is good ]' " 
 
 Miriam would have remonstrated further, but Sassafras told 
 her quietly that it was useless to argue with an Indian on such 
 a point as this. He either could not, or would not, make the 
 distinctions which were obvious to all but savages in arms. 
 Food was then partaken of by Sassafras, and he related at 
 greater length all his proceedings after the firing of the fatal 
 shot. The Indian rose and left the place of the conversation 
 to rejoin his braves in the other room, despatch Longwind at 
 once, and prepare four or five noted for courage, wariness, and 
 skill for the expedition. Before he lay down in front of the 
 fire to sleep. Sassafras gave his word to Miriam Cotswold that 
 none of the negroes should be hurt, unless they took arms and 
 joined in a fight. 
 
 The storm roared on through the latter part of ihe night, 
 but in the morning the shriirwhistling of the wind indicated 
 that the heart of the gale, as the sailors say, was broken. ^ At 
 break of day there was a lull ; the rain ceased. A few pieces 
 of pale blue appeared through breaks in the thin clouds and 
 flying scud. The wind, however, still blew freshly, shaking 
 showers of large drops from the overhanging boughs of the 
 trees. A group of men and horses at a very early hour stood 
 IT 
 
258 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 at the back of the shanties near the fort. Four armed Indians 
 •were already mounted. Two others held Indian horses, while 
 Campau, Pierre Langlois, Miriam Cotswold, Antoine, Jules 
 and Black Dick stood by the side of the gray mare, Virginia. 
 She was caparisoned for service. The eyes of Miriam Cotswold 
 and the men were cast from time to time towards one of the 
 shanties in which it was understood the chief of the Cheyennes 
 with Sassafras and Three Scalps, one of the most daring and 
 crafty warriors of the band, were holding a sort of council. At 
 length the buffiilo robe which hung before the entrance was 
 pushed aside and the men came forth. The chief led the van 
 with a stately carriage, and an unsparing glitter in his hard, 
 dark eye. He was in his war-paint, vermilion and black, 
 nearly bare to the waist, and a necklace composed of the huge 
 claws of the grizzly bear hung down upon his breast. The 
 lineaments of his countenance were stern, and his stature 
 seemed to be increased by the near prospect of battle and of 
 blood as he strode, rifle in hand, to his horse. Three Scalps, 
 the warrior who followed him, was neither as tall nor as 
 powerful as Cinnamon, but his frame was singularly well- 
 balanced, and his limbs were all bone and sinew. The scars 
 he bore, and now showed with pride, indicated that he had 
 been in some desperate fights. He was painted much as Cin- 
 namon was, and though his face was stern and composed, there 
 was no mistaking the exulting eagerness for blood which glowed 
 in his eye. The borderman followed the Indians with an air 
 of perfect resolution somewhat tinged with sadness. When he 
 reached the group of his friends he took Miriam Cotswold by 
 the hand and led her aside. 
 
 " Miriam," said he, " I start upon this expedition to avenge 
 the murder, bloody and unprovoked, of your friend and mine. 
 Before I go I have some words for your ear, and, I hope, for your 
 heart. To some it might seem an ill-chosen time to tell you I 
 love, and thi;t you are the object of my love ; but the moment 
 to me is fitting enough. In the stormy and fitful hours, when 
 my heart was torn with grief, and my mind tossed with schemes 
 for a swift and terrible revenge, in all their wanderings they 
 came again to you at last. Why then, when I am about to do 
 the last duty by the dead, should I not declare my love for the 
 livini^? Can you accept my vow and return one to me?" 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 259 
 
 "Sassafras," sh6 replied, with much feeling in her voice, " this 
 is sudden. But I see that it is earnest, and I will be plain. 
 It is no time for dissimulation, nor have I a mind to it. This 
 hour chosen for interchange of troth, while the wing of the 
 Angel of Death casts its dread shadow upon us, and you are 
 about to go forth to take other lives, might seem ominous of 
 evil instead of happiness ; but I am a daughter of the dwell- 
 ers in the tents, and you are a hunter and armed rover of the 
 frontier. We may not woo as the wrens woo among the early 
 rose-leaves, nor coo like the ring-doves in the bosky copse. 
 All we can ask from each other is truth. Mine I pledge till 
 death, by the great God who sees our hearts, and from his 
 starry throne rules all the races of the world, the children of 
 men !" 
 
 " Thanks, Miriam ! I will be true to you, as the sun to the 
 west from his rising in the east, whether under clear and pleas- 
 ant skies, or in cloud and storm !" said Sassafras. " My mind 
 now springs again, and my heart leaps to meet the duty of the 
 hour. The Indians are ready. We go, and it is done! I 
 shall strike harder, quicker and surer now than ever before. 
 Love and revenge will inspire and guide the blows !" 
 
 " But, Sassafras," said the girl, earnestly and hastily, " as 
 you love me, and we honor the dead whose loss we deplore, 
 see to it that none but the guilty fall. The negroes of Staples's 
 camp are clear of the deed, and you must save them. The 
 chief, once mild and kind, is now all the savage ; and in the 
 fearful battle-paint of his tribe has no more feeling of mercy 
 nor reason than the tiger w^ho scents blood on the wind of the 
 jungle. Sassafras, I do not ask you to spare Staples or Keeps, 
 but when the frightful war-whoops ring in the night, see that 
 the guiltless negroes are unharmed." 
 
 " I have provided for it. There will be no night attack, 
 and I will bring them off harmless," he replied. 
 
 " Further, Sassafras, husband and lord that is to be ! until 
 you are certain that he deserves the doom, let not Kirby die. 
 He had probably no hand in the murder, no knowledge of the 
 plot. Antoine and Campau and Pierre Langlois say so. 
 Therefore, spare him !" 
 
 " It may not be !" said Sassafras, firmly. " Miriam, he was 
 ihere, art and part with the others ! The negroes shall be 
 
260 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 saved. Not a hair of their heads shall be touched, unless 
 they take arms to fight for one who has been a hard task- 
 master to them. Staples will be my mark. The warrior who 
 was with me and Cinnamon in the hut, and another Cheyenne, 
 will go with me, while the chief and the other three Indians 
 will make for the Neosho. 'We shall find Staples in his camp 
 or on the move with his train, and then " 
 
 " What then ?" said she, as he paused. 
 
 " Then he dies on sight !" he exclaimed, while his color 
 rose and his eye dilated. " This, Miriam, is the doom and 
 justice of the border. He is already as one of the dead." 
 
 " The man is old. I could wish some other hand than yours 
 might send him to his long and last account." 
 
 *' Miriam Cotswold," said Sassafras, " if he lives to be much 
 older, they shall call me liar and coward. I and no other 
 will execute justice on him who treacherously slew my friend. 
 I must shoot the fatal shot or strike the blow ! To what end 
 should I leave this to either of the two Indians, who will be 
 with me ? If there were no other reason — and there is one 
 that is all-powerful — the safety of the negroes demands this 
 from me. The Cheyennes, both tried warriors, will be like blood- 
 hounds in the slips. If either kills Staples, and swings his 
 reeking scalp, with the whoop of the tribe, I shall not be able 
 to hold the hand of the other ; and there will be carnage 
 while one of Staples's men remains alive. To guard against 
 some such thing as this, I have persuaded Cinnamon to go 
 south after Keeps and Kirby, for in that quarter there is no 
 one else to kill. And now, Miriam, wife and part of my life 
 that is to be ! farewell for a while. The Indians look towards 
 us." 
 
 " Yet stay ! another word ! Is there no hope that poor Tom 
 may be wounded, but yet alive ?" 
 
 " There is none. If there had been, think you that I would 
 have left the river ? He fell headlong, no doubt, shot through 
 the brain, and so unconcious of what killed him. Besides, if. 
 he touched the water alive, he was swept down into the rapids 
 and there an end ! Had there been one chance in a thousand 
 for his life, I had not been here now." 
 
 " I feel it ! I know it !" she said. " But, oh ! if the remains 
 could be recovered and decently interred, it would be a con- 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 261 
 
 solation to us in after times and to his friends at home. The 
 Indians, hot for blood, caring nothing for what lies cold in the 
 river, will make no search until their ire is glutted. Shall 
 nothing be done ?" 
 
 "There is reason in what you say, though the hope of 
 finding his body is vain, I fear. Still, the last slight chance 
 shall not be thrown away. Antoine shall go with Cinnamon 
 and his men to the Neosho, and make the searching of the 
 rocks and shallows his special object. Tell him to saddle the 
 best horse aud ride after us. He may easily overtake us ere I 
 and Cinnamon part. Miriam, good-by !" 
 
 With this Sassafras folded her in his arms, and held her for 
 a moment to his brawny breast. In another instant he sprang 
 to the saddle of the stout gray mare, and the party rode away. 
 
 "Haste, haste, Antoine!" said the gypsy. "Saddle your 
 horse aud overtake them. You are to go, too. Nay, Antoine, 
 Jules ! saddle two horses. I will go myself with Antoine." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 "Heigh, bo! sing heigh, ho ! unto the green holly: 
 Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly. 
 Then heigh, ho ! the holly \" 
 
 IT was the day before Christmas, and preparations for the 
 proper celebration of the great Christmas festival were 
 beins: made in all the hamlets, mansions, farm-houses and cot- 
 tages about Wootton, Ridingcumstoke and the Vale of Ayles- 
 bury. " Store's no sore," was the motto of the neighborhood, 
 as well as of Justice Greedy, and much provision of substance 
 and luxury was being laid in. At a shop in the nearest mar- 
 ket town there was a small assemblage, at once grave, critical 
 and jovial, exarainiug the stock of the tradesman who owned 
 and kept it. Now, it was a butcher's shop — a place certain to 
 be esteemed low, if not vulgar, by those who affect artificial 
 perfumes and driuk absinthe. The butcher, however, is a man 
 whose calling is held in some esteem by the nations who keep 
 Christmas in the Scandinavian and Anglo-Saxon manner. 
 Besides, neither Sir Jerry Snaffle, John Bullfinch, nor the 
 other worthies who looked on while the butcher bustled about, 
 
262 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 whistling, " O, the Roast Beef of Old England !" cared for 
 any perfumes but such as came from bunches of violets, rose- 
 buds, lavender, bean blossoms and the like. As for absinthe, 
 none of them had ever heard of it, and all of them would 
 have repudiated it as a beverage if they had tasted it. 
 
 The butcher's shop was in truth a very clean, fresh, whole- 
 some place, and the joints of beef and mutton, artistically cut 
 by the butcher, and trimmed with holly and ivy by his wife, 
 looked as handsome, and more eatable, than so many clever 
 pictures. The butcher's round, red face shone like the berries 
 on the holly boughs as he slapped the joints with his long knife, 
 and related the history of each ox and wether which had con- 
 tributed to his Christmas show. Mr. Cleaver spoke of the 
 animals as he might have done of old friends, and no wonder, 
 for while the Christmas beasts he intended to purchase were 
 in the course of feeding on the farms of their owners, it was 
 his custom to visit them about once a fortnight, to handle them 
 and report progress to his wife, his journeymen, and his prin- 
 cipal customers. A few of these last had been invited to look 
 in that morning, chief among whom were Sir Jerry, John 
 Bullfinch, and another good man and true, who had not yet 
 arrived. The butcher was bustling and important, often look- 
 ing down the street, as if rather impatient for the coming of 
 the other man. The baronet ventured a remark upon the beef 
 and the Cotswold mutton, to which Mr. Cleaver replied by say- 
 ing: 
 
 " They was all good, Sir Jerry, this year — all excellent good. 
 They all died well, full of fat, and they have cut up well. My 
 Christmas beasts always do. But there's one extro'nary animal. 
 He died better and has cut up better than any fat beast I ever 
 had before. I mean the red ox fed by Mr. Southdown, who 
 ought to have been here before now. Here he comes, however. 
 He's a pictur'." 
 
 It was never exactly settled whether ihis last sentence re- 
 ferred to the ox or the yeoman who fed him, for the greeting 
 extended to the man was so hearty and noisy, that no oppor- 
 tunity for explanation offered, and the ox was momentarily 
 forgotten by all but his best friend and ardent admirer, the 
 butcher. 
 
 Mr. Southdown was a man of great stature and bulk, nearly 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K 263 
 
 as big himself as a moderate-sized ox of the Highland blood. 
 He strode along with ponderous tread, vast but not fat, in a 
 blue coat, drab breeches, leather leggings, and a low-crowned 
 hat. Instead of a riding-whip he carried a stick of tough 
 ground-ash. Mr. Southdown was a man of mark in those 
 parts. A man of many acres, arable and pasture. A man 
 of money. Crisp bank-notes carried in a bulky pocket-book 
 and bright sovereigns in a yellow canvas bag. A man of 
 strong opinions and few words. He was as great a stickler for 
 the landed interest, and Church and King, as Sir Jerry Snaffle 
 and John Bullfinch themselves, but it w^as in his own way, not 
 in theirs. Sir Jerry Snaffle was sometimes eloquent in his de- 
 clamations on these topics, from sheer force and plain sense. 
 John Bullfinch was apt to be disputatious. Mr. Southdown 
 was neither eloquent nor disputatious. It was not, as he said, 
 worth his while. His mind was made up ! He cared nothing 
 for radicals or revolutionists ! " Argeyment" was of no use 
 in such matters — nothing but a waste of words ! Could the 
 radicals argey the elm trees out of his pastures ? or the oaks 
 out of his spinneys ? That was what he wanted to know ! 
 Being of a solid temper, and with a voice like the boatswain 
 of a line-of-battle ship, Mr. Southdown usually succeeded in 
 putting down the radical bagmen and tradesmen he encoun- 
 tered. The only people who ventured to argue with him were 
 his youngest daughter, Margery, and her particular friend 
 Young Jack. 
 
 " Servant all, gentlemen," said he. " This looks like Christ- 
 mas. I left my missus and daaters making plum-puddings 
 and mince-pies, as is but reason. Well, Cleaver, what's said 
 to this here beef? If anybody says there's better beef in 
 Lunnon, or in Windsor Castle, or anywhere else, he's wrong. 
 I shan't argey the question with him, but he's wrong !" 
 
 " Cleaver never had a better show," said Sir Jerry. "And 
 he says your red ox is the best that ever was seen here, or 
 hereabouts. He ought to know !" 
 
 " If he says that, he don't know, Sir Jerry," replied South- 
 down. " In his father's time there was a bullock killed by 
 him, called the Great Ox of Hawk'ell, which was fed by John 
 Bullfinch, and it was the biggest ever seen in England, except 
 the Durham Ox. We must knock under to the Durham Ox, 
 
264 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 though I have ray doubts whether the northcountrymen didn't 
 give short weight when they made up the report." 
 
 " Gentlemen all !" said the butcher, " I remember the Great 
 Ox of Hawk'ell well. He w\as bigger than this one, but this 
 one was riper, and died better." 
 
 " I shan't argey the p'int," Mr. Southdown roared. " You 
 can't get rid of the Hawk'ell ox by argeyment. My counsel 
 was took by John about feeding him towards the last, and we 
 made him the greatest ox ever seen, as well as the best, if the 
 northcountrymen gave in short weight. Cleaver, you're wrong. 
 That settles it." 
 
 " I ought to be heard about this," said the butcher. " Being 
 in the trade, I have the right to an opinion." 
 
 " Sir, you have no right to argey from opinions. I fed the 
 red ox, and I won't argey the p'int at all. I, being correct, 
 decline to argey. You, being wrong, have no right to argey !" 
 
 " O," said the butcher, " you haven't seen the prime parts 
 of the red ox at all." 
 
 Mr. Southdown was about to interpose another protest, but 
 the butcher bawled, " Now, missus !" and missus entered. It 
 was the butcher's wife, comely and rosy, deft at curtseys and 
 pleasant smiles, and with red ribbons among the laces of her 
 cap. Together they drew a white sheet from something it 
 covered, and there lay the sirloins and prime ribs of the red 
 ox in all their massive beauty. On one sirloin the name of 
 Sir Jerry Snaffle appeared in red holly berries on the rich, 
 yellow fat of the back. The other bore that of John Bull- 
 finch. One side of the mighty ribs was marked, in like man- 
 ner, Richard Southdown. 
 
 " Now," said the butcher, " I call that a pictur' !" 
 
 "I know but little about pictur's," replied Mr. Southdown, 
 except pictur's of live cattle. You may see the pictur' of tlie 
 great ox in John Bullfinch's parlor at Hawk'ell, done by a man 
 who needed but a little knowledge of the p'ints and beauties 
 of a bullock or a horse to make him the finest painter that 
 ever was seen in England. Pie done the Black Hoi*se at Ayles- 
 bury. I don't mean done the landlord out of his score for 
 drink, but done the pictur' of the horse on the sign. As to 
 this beef, I call it capital beef, as good beef as ever was in 
 England, save the beef of the great ox of Hawk'ell." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 265 
 
 The baronet, John Bullfinch, and the others' complimented 
 Mr. Cleaver and his wife — the former upon the appearance of 
 the beef, and the latter upon her own. The conversation was 
 still going on in loud tones when Young Jack drove up with 
 a spring cart, which seemed to be already well laden with 
 divers boxes and hampers. The sirloin, together with many 
 pieces of beef of about ten pounds each — cut by the knife of 
 Cleaver at Christmas time for a man like John Bullfinch — 
 a ten-pound piece ahvays weighed from twelve to fourteen, and 
 this was so much the better for the laborers and ^vidows with 
 families, to whom they would be given at Haw^kwell. The beef 
 being loaded, the cart went down upon the springs. Young 
 Jack, touching his hat to Sir Jerry and Mr. Southdown, and 
 favoring the butcher's wife with an agreeable nod, resumed 
 the reins. 
 
 " Drat that boy !" said Mrs. Cleaver, as she retired smiling, 
 while John Bullfinch said : 
 
 " Hold on ! what have you got ?'* 
 
 " Everything !" replied his son. 
 
 " Everything means nothing, sir. You give straightforra'd 
 answers when gentlemen are in company. Mention what 
 you've got." 
 
 " "Well !" said Jack, " there's change for a five-pound note 
 in shillings — one apiece for the children on Boxing Day. 
 Change for another in half-crowns — one apiece for the lassies 
 and lads. A lot of tea and sugar for the old women. Tobacco 
 for the old men. A box with a sight of toys, and a hamper 
 from the confectioner's, ordered by May. A saddle and bridle, 
 ordered by May and me." 
 
 " A saddle and bridle ! and who's that for ? Sir Jerry, my 
 daater and son do nearly as they like at Christmas time, and 
 for a man of my means, they are good givers." 
 
 Sir Jerry nodded and smiled. Mr. Southdown gave a por- 
 tentous wink, and shook his stick at Y^oung Jack. 
 
 " Who's that saddle and bridle for ?" said John. Seeing that 
 his son hesitated, he added : " Come ! you needn't be afraid to 
 speak out. I insist upon being told." 
 
 " Then don't you tell him !" said Mr. Southdown. " I mean 
 to encourage in my godson no disrespect to his father, but ' I 
 insist upon being told' is a species of argeyment not to be tol- 
 
26G THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 
 
 erated. It's like what goes on at the Fox and Grapes, when 
 one of the fellows that t^pout against the Land and the Con- 
 stitution, winding up with an impertinent question, says, 'I 
 insist upon being told.' " 
 
 Sir Jerry laughed and John Bullfinch laughed. He then 
 said, " Well, I believe you have named everything and for- 
 got nothing — go on. Stay ! by George ! you've forgot the 
 brandy. We should be ruined at twelve to-night past remedy 
 without the brandy !" 
 
 " The brandy !" replied Jack, " I declare I had forgot the 
 brandy. I'll stop for it as I go by. It was Parkins put it 
 clean out of my head, with a story that Tom Scarlet was killed 
 in America." 
 
 " Tom Scarlet killed ! Sir Jerry — Southdown — did you 
 ever hear the like of this ?" 
 
 " An idle tale, no doubt," said Sir Jerry Snaffle. " Parkins 
 could have no news, good or bad, of Tom Scarlet before 
 I had. I took measures to get news of him three months 
 
 ago-" 
 
 " That settles the p'int ! Parkins knows nothing," said Mr. 
 Southdown. 
 
 " Ay ! but, gentlemen, Sir Jerry has been unable to get any 
 news of Tom, and that looks bad," said Young Jack. 
 
 " Jack," said Mr. Southdown, doggedly, " when you was a 
 baby being christened, I stood godfeyther. I shan't argey 
 with you. Lady Snaffle stood May's godmother — she may 
 argey the p'int with her, if she pleases. I say it's all settled. 
 Sir Jerry is right. Parkins is a conceited lellow and knows 
 nothing !" 
 
 " Give me leave for a moment," said Sir Jerry. " Now, 
 Master Jack, who is said to have killed Tom Scarlet ?" 
 
 " The Indians, Sir Jerry." 
 
 "AVhat for?" cried John Bullfinch. 
 
 "To eat him, Parkins says." 
 
 " Parkins is a fool," cried John. " Eat him ! why, it's 
 unnatural. And besides, haven't we heard that there's mil- 
 lions of buffaloes in that country? Who would prefer Tom 
 Scarlet to beef?" 
 
 Mr. Southdown shook his head. He had no faith in buf- 
 falo beef. No faith in American beef of any sort. No faith 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 267 
 
 in any beef but that of the cattle bred and fed in and about 
 the pastures of the Yale of Aylesbury. The Indians might 
 have had bufialo beef, but still wanted a change. " I've heerd 
 tell of such things," said he. 
 
 " Master Jack," said Sir Jerry, " I believe nothing of this 
 story which you have heard from Parkins, and I charge you 
 to say nothiug of it to your sister. John Bullfinch, my old 
 neighbor and friend f if such a thiug had happened I should 
 have heard of it before Parkins. Three months ago there 
 came a brief notice to me from America — that if, I accepted 
 the steeple-chase match offered by the Duke for any horse 
 hunted in the midland counties last year, gentlemen riders. I 
 could Vv^in it. The match was made. Tom Scarlet was in the 
 Indian country when he sent that message to me, but he was 
 on good terms with the Indians, and his business there was 
 ended. The message was one in trust, and faithfully brought 
 to me by the purser of an American ship." 
 
 " That's good news, Sir Jerry !" said Young Jack. " And 
 besides, if your honor pleases, we should have heard from the 
 American who took Tom into the Indian country, if anything 
 had happened to him. Everybody who knows that American 
 says he is a good man." 
 
 " The suggestion is good. Jack ; but who does know him ?" 
 said the baronet. 
 
 " Well, sir, the sailor Cox and Gypsy Jack. Jack says that 
 the American is a first-rate man. But Parkins says he knows 
 better, having had it from a sure hand." 
 
 " I'd give a pound if Gypsy Jack was here," said John 
 Bullfinch, in much perplexity. " He knows as much about 
 this American business as anybody. Besides, he'd tell me 
 what to say at home. It's nearly impossible for me to keep a 
 secret from my daater, May, without help, and I fancy she 
 isn't as hearty like as she was last spring-time." 
 
 " You must not mention it to her on any account," said Sir 
 Jerry. " It's ten to one there is no truth in it. I'll give any- 
 body a sovereign to lay me ten to a hundred on it. Parkins 
 always has evil tidings to tell of somebody. Where did he 
 get this, Jack?" 
 
 " From three tramping sailors who were in the lock-up at 
 Aylesbury yesterday evening." 
 
268 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX. 
 
 " These men were discharged, no doubt, this morning, on 
 account of their being sailors," said Sir Jerry. " Which way 
 were they travelling T' 
 
 " Towards London. They had come from Liverpool, and 
 told Parkins they should join a King's ship at the Nore." 
 
 " Ay, ay !" said Sir Jerry. " Very few of those fellows ever 
 reach the fleet, though. Kow, John Bullfinch, these sailors 
 I'll overtake before night, and hear what their story really is, 
 and upon what it was founded. I'll send word to Lady Snaffle 
 that business calls me away to-day. Ride over to the Hall 
 after your Christmas dinner to-morrow, and I'll tell you all 
 about it. Kot a word to your daughter on any account until 
 after I return." 
 
 With this the baronet mounted his horse and was about to 
 set off at a great pace. But Mr. Southdown interposed. 
 
 " One word," said he. " In Cjuestioning these sailors, keep 
 it dark that you be a magistrate. You may as well burke the 
 baronet, too. But let 'm know that her ladyship, your honor's 
 wife, is daughter of an admiral — one of IS^elson's fighting 
 captains at the Nile and Trafalgar. Sir Jerry, you'll find th" 
 of more use than any amount of argeyment. Sailors don't 
 like argeyment. My mind's made up on the main p'int. Tom 
 Scarlet's alive and well. But as you're going to overhaul 
 these sailors. Sir Jerry, keep the magistrate and the baronet 
 in the background, and bring forward the admiral's daughter." 
 
 Mr. Southdown delivered this in his most impressive manner, 
 and accompanied it by some heavy blows from his stick upon 
 the butcher's horse-block. Then Sir Jerry rode away. 
 
 When John Bullfinch reached home he found that his son 
 had got there before him. The Christmas presents had been 
 unloaded and put away. May had finished the decorations 
 of the rooms for the coming eve. The last sprig of ivy and 
 the last bunch of holly had been put up, and the bough of the 
 mistletoe of the oak had been hung in the centre of the ceiling 
 of the largest room. By the hearth lay the great oak log 
 which was to be burned that Yule, and which might keep 
 aglow for about a week in its own ashes. IMay Bullfinch was 
 paler and thinner, and her expression more thoughtful and 
 subdued than before. Her father was ill at ease. He had 
 agreed to ride with her to the Grange that afternoon, and the 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 269 
 
 rumor he had heard as to the fate of Tom Scanet made it a 
 very unpleasant and embarrassing arrangement. He ordered 
 her horse, however, to be brought out, and after luncheon they 
 set off together. The day was raw and cloudy. The father, 
 in no mood for conversation just then, knew no better way of 
 avoiding it than by riding fast, and they cantered rapidly on, 
 almost without a word until the Grange and its farm buildings 
 were in sight. The strong, old stone house, with the dark yew 
 trees standing by it, as they had stood for two hundred years 
 and more, looked gloomy, but the reception within was cheerful. 
 A large fire had been lighted in the parlor, and the crimson 
 curtains at the old-fashioned, diamond-latticed windows relieved 
 the sombreness of the dark oak wainscoting and carved furni- 
 ture of antique pattern. The housekeeper, an old gentlewoman, 
 some distant relative of Tom Scarlet's father, placed cake and 
 wine upon the table, and invited them to partake of it. She 
 had hoped Tom himself would have been home again by 
 Christmas, but she had received no news of him. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Euth," said May, " we have not come to 
 eat, and news was scarcely to be expected here. Have your 
 men provided the holly and ivy?" 
 
 " Yes, miss, and a fine lot of it. Every room in the house 
 is trimmed with it but this. This, by your recj[uest, was left 
 for you." 
 
 '< Thank you ! A glass of wine, and then I'll begin work." 
 The boughs were brought into the room by a shock-headed 
 lad, who had often been threatened by Moleskin with imprison- 
 ment for trespassing, and by Parkins with the stocks for small 
 offences and disrespect to the " authorities." As he threw down 
 the ivy and the splendid holly boughs, thick with berries, very 
 large and very red, the shock-headed, yellow-haired youth 
 made a shy bow towards May and shot a glance of dubious 
 expression at her father. John Bullfinch did not perceive it. 
 " That's wonderful fine holly," said he. " It beats what we 
 have at Hawk'ell all hollow, and I saw none in town this 
 morning half as good. Where did you get it, Joe ?" 
 
 There was no Joe to answer this question, for the shock- 
 headed youth had stepped on the mat, and gone out as softly 
 and quickly as could be. Well he might. That very morn- 
 ing the gardener of a rector in an adjacent parish, upon whose 
 
270 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 lawn there were some holly bushes of uncommon beauty, was 
 astounded at finding that the finest boughs had been cut in 
 the night, and carried off'. 
 
 May Bullfinch was soon busy with the decoration of the 
 room. 
 
 " Father," said she, " if he should come home to-night or 
 to-morrow, or any day before the new year begins, he will be 
 glad to find this room prepared as it used to be. The bare 
 walls would be cheerless welcome." 
 
 John groaned in spirit, and knew not what to reply. As 
 she continued her task, he stood and looked on, making no re- 
 mark, but wishing it was over. The last thing to be adorned 
 was a picture of Tom Scarlet on a white pony, painted when 
 he was a boy. The finest sprigs of holly, the ones with the 
 largest and richest berries, were reserved for this. As May 
 stood upon a chair to set the picture off with the little boughs, 
 her father wore some such expression as he would have had at 
 the dressing of a corpse. At last it was done. The old lady, 
 Mrs. Ruth, declared that the room was beautiful, especially 
 the picture. "But," said she, "you have put no ivy on his 
 picture, Miss JNIay." 
 
 " No ; it is a plant of the damp and shade." 
 
 " Ay, it minds one of the cold churchyard," returned the 
 old lady. 
 
 " While the bonny holly," said May, "glows like the fire of 
 the Yule log upon the hearth, and the red Christmas wine." 
 
 "I must stop this," said John Bullfinch. Then aloud, 
 " May, ray dear, the way is long, and the day is almost done. 
 Let us say good-by to Mrs. Ruth." 
 
 " Go, father, I will follow." 
 
 The farmer and the housekeeper went out of the room to- 
 gether. May knelt just under the picture and said the Lord's 
 Prayer. Then she joined her father. 
 
 Mr. Bullfinch was unable to leave the Grange as soon as he 
 expected. A turning movement was executed upon his flank, 
 and his retreat was cut off, so to speak, by an old inmate of 
 the Grange. It was the hunting groom. Straddles by name, 
 who now accosted him, and made a request that he should 
 visit the stable? 
 
 " What, is there something wrong, Straddles ? Anything 
 lame?" 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 271 
 
 " No, sir ; nothing of the kind. I only want you to see that 
 things ai'e in order," replied Straddles. " He'll find his hunt- 
 ers fit to go to the meet and take part in a hard run, if he 
 comes home to-morrow. You come and see." 
 
 " Go, father. I should like to see myself," said May. 
 
 The horses were examined, and John pronounced them all 
 right. 
 
 " So," said he to Straddles, " you look for Tom before the 
 hunting season is over, do you ?" 
 
 " Of course I do ! My own opinion is he'll be here before 
 another week is over ; but it ain't an event to bet upon. He's 
 uncertain as to time, but sure in the end. I have lived at the 
 Grange above fifty year, and I ought to know the Scarlets. 
 Tom is a Scarlet all over. You can't say just when he'll come, 
 but you can say that he will come." 
 
 " Straddles," said May, " perhaos vou can say when you ex- 
 pect him." 
 
 " I can, miss," replied Straddles confidently. " I expect him 
 every hour. He may come at any moment. There's a box 
 kept done up for the horse he'll bring. There's hot water 
 kept ready to make a bucket of gruel for him ; for ever since 
 he was a boy, and even then, Tom has always been a hard 
 rider." 
 
 The confidence of the old man infected May and her father. 
 The evidence of the box kept in order, and the hot water 
 ready to make gruel for the tired horse, seemed to John to 
 outweigh anything which might have fallen from roving sail- 
 ors, and had come through Parkins. Besides, the old man 
 put the finishing stroke by an allusion to Sir Jerry Snafile's 
 great match. 
 
 " He may," said he, " be detained for a week or two more. 
 The wind is east at present. But he's sure to be here to ride 
 Sir Jerry's horse, in the match. That's the latest moment, 
 and that's in March. Mr. Bullfinch, Tom will ride Sir Jerry's 
 horse, and the duke will lose, as sure as his duchess wears 
 strawberry leaves. We may not beat him in the horse, but 
 we shall in the rider. They can't bring a man here that can 
 ride over our stiff country like Tom Scarlet." 
 
 "I don't believe they can, Straddles," cried John. "By 
 Jove, if this comes off, what a time we'll have at Hawk'ell !" 
 
272 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " I wish he had come, or that he will come this week," said 
 Straddles, " not that it matters to the match, but Tom is a 
 youDg mau of a kind heart, and the poor will miss him this 
 Christmas." 
 
 " Send the poor to me. Every mother's son and daater that 
 could have had a gift from him, you send to Hawk'ell. Am I 
 right, May?" 
 
 "To be sure, dear father. As to Tom, everybody likes 
 him." 
 
 " My dear, everybody don't like him. Parkins don't like 
 him. Sir Jerry made that remark this morning, and it ac- 
 counts for — eh ! — Straddles, he's sure to be here in time for 
 the match, is he?" 
 
 " Sure to come, and sure to win. You put your money on 
 as soon as Sir Jerry has got his on," said Straddles, assisting 
 May to mount her horse. 
 
 " I'm so glad we came here. That Straddles is a sensible 
 man," said May, as they cantered away, while the shock- 
 headed lad was still looking intently at the half-crown she had 
 left in his hand as he put the reins in hers. 
 
 "Ay! a knowing fellow," said John. "Sir Jerry will be 
 glad to hear of this, May. I'll go over to the Hall to-morrow, 
 after dinner, and tell him all about it. It's five o'clock, and 
 that nag of yours is lazy — send him along !" 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 "Duncan Grey cam' here to woo, • 
 Ha, ha! the wooing o't. 
 On blithe Yule night, when we were fa'. 
 Ha, ha ! the wooing o't." 
 
 "Ye gypsy gang that deal in glamour, 
 And you, deep read in hell's black grammar. 
 Warlocks and witches." 
 
 JOHN BULLFINCH and his daughter had left Hawkwell 
 on their way to the Grange but a short time, when a vis- 
 itor arrived at the farm, who received a very cordial welcome 
 from Young Jack. They had not been acquainted many 
 weeks, but the visitor was in high favor with the lad, and not 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 273 
 
 without some reason. In the first place, he was young ; in 
 the next, of high birth and station ; third, he was very frank 
 and courteous; and last. Young Jack had been able to do 
 him a favor, and confer distinction upon him in the hunting 
 field. He was tall, slender, with a high-bred look, and he was 
 mounted on a superb gray hunter. The young man's com- 
 plexion was fair, his hair was brown and curly, his eyes were 
 a rich hazel, and he had not a shade of beard or whisker. His 
 age was about two-and-twenty, but he looked much younger, 
 and this was a matter of some annoyance to the heir of 
 the Doomsdays, one of the wealthiest and most powerful of 
 the noble families in the kingdom. Often, as Lord Doomsday 
 surveyed his very handsome face and fine figure in the glass, 
 he turned away with impatience, because of his boyish appear- 
 ance. He commonly hunted in Leicestershire and ]!^orthamp- 
 tonshire, in which counties his father possessed large estates, 
 but this season he had given much of his time to the hounds 
 of Sir Jerry Suafile and those of the famous Heythrop Hunt. 
 He had soon become passably well acquainted with John 
 Bullfinch, whose sterling character and worth had been made 
 known to him by Sir Jerry Snaffle, the major, and some other 
 gentlemen of the neighborhood. Moreover, he had formed a 
 habit of blushing and raising his hat to the farmer's daughter, 
 May, whenever she appeared at the meet by her father's side, 
 which was hardly as often now as it had been the season before. 
 True it is, too, that Lord Doomsday's horses, somehow or an- 
 other, got to know the road to Hawkwell, and took him there 
 of their own accord, at times, when he was out for exercise on 
 non-hunting days. When John was at home the young man 
 talked with him on such subjects as hunting, shooting, the 
 landed interests, and the turf — especially the last. The Dooms- 
 days had been great breeders of thoroughbred horses ever 
 since the time of Queen Anne, and the family was held in 
 especial esteem by John Bullfinch, because, through the union 
 of Waxy and Penelope, early in the nineteenth century, it 
 had produced the ever-famous Whalebone blood. To these 
 conversations May and Young Jack commonly listened with 
 interest. Sometimes John Bullfinch was not at home when 
 the vouno; man called, and then Youno; Jack entertained him 
 with his notions of hunters, hounds, race-horses, &c., to which 
 18 
 
274 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 the young nobleman listened with courtesy, although he rather 
 preferred conversation with May Bullfinch upon the usual 
 topics of the country side at that season — the weather, parties, 
 balls, the coming Christmas, subscriptions to charities, &c. 
 The young man was, of course, well educated ; he was well 
 informed on general subjects, and his abilities were good, as 
 those of the men of his house always had been. But his 
 youthful looks and his extreme diffidence, not to say bashful- 
 ness, kept him back in general society, and many mistook his 
 shyness and modest reserve for haughty pride of birth and 
 prospect of future succession to immense estates. He felt much 
 more at his ease in the presence of Farmer Bullfinch, his 
 daughter May and his son Jack, than in that of the gentry 
 of the provincial town where he kept his hunters. The ful- 
 some flatteries of some annoyed him. He drank but little, 
 and gambled none at all. He was too reserved to mingle 
 much in the general society of the place, and hated flirting 
 and gossips. John Bullfinch and his daughter treated the 
 young man with the greatest respect and some deference, but 
 no sycophantic observances. He stayed to tea sometimes, as 
 the long nights of the winter season set in. Once or twice, 
 when Lord Doomsday called at Hawkwell, neither John Bull- 
 finch nor Young Jack was at home, and on being told this by 
 May, the young man appeared to be very little disappointed, 
 and declared that, as he had nothing else to do, he would 
 wait, if Miss Bullfinch would be kind enough to permit him 
 to do so. As a matter of course, John Bullfinch held that 
 Lord Doomsday's visits to Hawkwell were on his account. 
 Perhaps May Bullfinch doubted this. The young man him- 
 self could scarcely have told what the object of his visits was, 
 but he knew that he liked to make them, and thought that 
 was enough. Young Jack was sure that the young nobleman 
 came to see him, arguing in this way : " With all his talents, 
 his noble family, his good looks, his great estates, the Whale- 
 bone blood, his splendid hunters, and his beautiful horseman- 
 ship, he is bashful. Now, in ray company he's got no more 
 call to be bashful than I have in his ; besides, 1 put him 
 through in the great run from Fringford Gorse, when we beat 
 the whole field, and huntsmen and whippers-in to boot." The 
 fact was that Young Jack, one day after Lord Doomsday's 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 275 
 
 first visit to his father's house, had galloped to his side as the 
 fox went away from Friiigford Gorse, and said, "This is a 
 noted fox, and we shall have a great run. If your lordship 
 pleases, you had better keep \\\i\\ me." 
 
 " But you are not taking the line of your father, Sir Jerry, 
 the major and the other gentlemen." 
 
 " No, my lord, I am not. I am taking another line. The 
 gentlemen would take it, too, if they could conveniently, but 
 they can't. They are heavy weights, and the old and middle- 
 aged don't care to tackle it. We are light weights and young." 
 " I say, young Bullfinch ! I'm not as young as I look," said 
 Doomsday. 
 
 " My lord, that's the case with me. I don't get credit for 
 my real age. It's a disadvantage at the start, my lord, but by 
 and by we shall get over it. Take a strong pull, my lord. 
 Your horse, good as he is, wall need all his power to go through 
 some of the bullfinches presently. They are every bit as big 
 and stout as those in Northamptonshire." 
 
 " You have been over this line before, but suppose the fox 
 heads away to the right — w^e shall be thrown out." 
 
 " But he won't head to the right, my lord. I know this fox. 
 He w^as hunted four times last season. After the last of the 
 four runs I w^as shown over this line by the best hand in the 
 Midland counties, and it's the one to take for those who are 
 light in the saddle and on good horses. Now, here's the first 
 of the raspers. Let me go first, please, my lord, and give your 
 horse a lead over." 
 
 Young Jack was on Young Cowslip, and soon she w^ent driv- 
 ing through the upper part of the whitethorn and blackthorn 
 fence. Lord Doomsday followed, and then they went on across 
 another large pasture field, the dairy-ground of a great farm. 
 " Now, my lord," said Jack, " you can tell by the cry that the 
 hounds incline to the left all the time, and that our line is the 
 shortest. If the Fringford Gorse fox runs as usual, and his 
 time is come to-day, there'll be hardly anybody in at the death 
 but you and me. So much for knowing the country well, and 
 being able to negotiate it. I was shown this line by Tom 
 Scarlet, the best ten-stone man in England. He pounded 
 your lordship once, I have been told." 
 
 " He did ; and, what is more, young Bullfinch, it was not 
 the fault of my horse, but my own." 
 
276 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 
 
 " Ah, my lord ! there are few like you. Most of the others 
 that were pouuded that day bore malice agaiust Tom because 
 he did it. Tom has told me, my lord, that you were not really 
 pounded by him, but by the presence of the others. ' Jack,' 
 said he, * young Lord Doomsday will be one of the best riders 
 in England some of these days. Mark my words. Jack. He 
 comes of a riding family, and his only fault now is, that he's 
 too modest.' Perhaps that's my fault, too, my lord. But here 
 we are at another splitter. Let us take it side by side, with 
 plenty room between." 
 
 The situation of affairs at the end of the run was this — the 
 hounds pulled down tha Fringford fox in the middle of a grass 
 field, within a mile of Woodstock, in the Heythrop country. 
 Lord Doomsday, Young Jack, and a shepherd boy were the 
 only ones present to give the death-halloo. The huntsman 
 and one of the whippers-in came through the gate soon after, 
 their horses dead beat. After them Sir Jerry Snaffle, the Irish 
 major, and John Bullfinch followed. The young nobleman 
 almost blushed at their hearty congratulations. Not so Young 
 Jack, for he exclaimed : 
 
 " Gentlemen, if you please, his lordship and I did it, by 
 means of being light weights, young, well-mounted, and fol- 
 lowing Tom Scarlet's favorite line. If his lordship is too mod- 
 est to have proper credit given him in the county paper when 
 the account of this run appears, it'll be a great pity, and I 
 think " 
 
 " Hold your tongue !" roared John. " I wish you was half 
 as modest as Lord Doomsday, I do. For cheek you are un- 
 common. What do you mean by haranguing the gentlemen 
 in that style, eh ?" 
 
 <' O, well !" said Jack, " I only thought it wasn't the habit 
 of the heavy weights in this hunt to begrudge the light weights 
 — that is, begrudge a young nobleman — the proper praise when 
 he was the only man in at the death. I know Sir Jerry's too 
 much of a man to " 
 
 A burst of laughter from Sir Jerry and the major, in which 
 the huntsmen joined, cut short Young Jack's second harangue 
 on behalf of Lord Doomsday, and prevented the reproof which 
 rose to the lips of his father. 
 
 Therefore Jack had some reason to think that Lord Dooms- 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 211 
 
 day's visits to Hawk well were made with a view to see him, 
 and ou the day in question he met his lordship with a bow, a 
 smile, and a joyful exclamation. To Lord Doomsday's ques- 
 tions he replied that his father was out, his sister was out, too, 
 and he should have been out himself if his lordship had been 
 ten minutes later. He was going to ride to the sheepfold under 
 the hill by the mill, on the outskirts of their land, and hoped 
 Lord Doomsday would ride with him, as he could show him 
 the holt of an otter and a plump or two of wild ducks. His 
 lordship hesitated — he had come just to say good-by to Jack's 
 father and his sister, as he was going home to Northamptonshire 
 to spend the Christmas week at his father's. The earl made 
 it a point that they should all be home for the Christmas din- 
 ner. He must be at Brackley that night, and jide home from 
 thence in the morning. Very well ! Jack would deliver his 
 lordship's message to his father and sister, and would show him 
 that the green lane by the fold under the hill was the nearest 
 way to the Barleymow, from which he could take the Brackley 
 road. As one of his men had gone to Brackley with a spare 
 horse. Lord Doomsday agreed to this proposition, and they 
 jogged merrily along, leaping the gates and fences instead of 
 taking the roads. Suddenly, after a thoughtful silence, during 
 which he had paid no attention to Jack's free and easy chatter, 
 the young man exclaimed : 
 
 " I say, young Bullfinch, I take you to be the happiest boy 
 in these parts." 
 
 " Well, my lord, I am tolerably well off for a boy, although 
 I consider that I don't get full credit for my age and real 
 experience. Besides, I should be more pleased if Tom Scarlet 
 was home again. When he gets home, if he does get home, 
 we shall have a jolly time." 
 
 " You say ' if he gets home.' Is there any doubt about it ?" 
 
 " Why, yes, my lord ; there is a report — a sort of a rumor 
 — that he has been killed in America — the Western parts, 
 above a thousand miles from New York. But I don't believe 
 it. Neither does Sir Jerry, who has gone to overtake the 
 sailors who reported it." 
 
 " Does your sister know of this report ?" said Lord Dooms- 
 day, earnestly. 
 
 " No, sir ; she does not, and she isn't to be told until we 
 have found out that it's all a lie." 
 
278 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 The young inan was thoughtful. He pulled his horse to a 
 slow trot, and then, lookiug down upon the hunter's mane and 
 withers, he said : " There is auother report. People say that 
 this Mr. Scarlet is — not engaged to — but in love with your 
 sister. Do you think he is the sort of man to make your 
 sister May happy ?" 
 
 " The very man, my lord. Why not ?" 
 
 " I do not exactly know, and, at any rate, I need not tell 
 until you have found out that his reported death is false. My 
 opinion of your sister is that she is in mind, manners, disposi- 
 tion, and person a very superior young lady It is not every 
 man who can ride well and pound people that is worthy of 
 her." 
 
 It was now the turn of Young Jack to look at his horse's 
 mane. 
 
 " I know that your lordship has no spite against Tom Scarlet 
 because he pounded the field. You do not know Tom as well 
 as I do," said he. " I have known him a great many years, 
 young as I look. He taught me to ride before he came into 
 the property. My lord, I know all about him ; he's the best 
 ten-stone — I mean he's as good a young man as there is in 
 these Midland counties. Ask my father and Sir Jerry and 
 the major when you come back. As for May, she is the best 
 and dearest sister in the world, except, perha]5s, your lordship's 
 own sisters." 
 
 " You need not except them ; they are married, young Bull- 
 finch," said Lord Doomsday, " and, good as they are, I cannot 
 say that I very much admire their husbands. You need not 
 mention that we had any conversation about Mr. Scarlet. But 
 in telling your flither that I called, you may say that I have 
 great regard and esteem for him and — and — your sister." 
 
 With this he pricked his horse with the spur, and after a 
 few good strides leaped the fence into a lane. Jack followed, 
 and at sight of a string of donkeys exclaimed: "Halloo! what 
 now?" 
 
 It was the cavalcade of three or four families of gypsies, 
 with terrier dogs and lurchers, women, girls and boys on foot, 
 and children in the panniers of the asses. 
 
 " What now ! young squire ! You may well say what now ! 
 Why, here be we, Christmas eve a coming, turned out of 
 
TEE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 279 
 
 the copse, where we was as snug as rabbits in their burrows, 
 and made to move off, the Lord knows where, by Parkins, the 
 constable. May the d — 1 fly away with him !" 
 
 The speaker was a handsome, bold-looking woman of the 
 tribe. Hair thick and glossy, black as the wing of a raven. 
 Eyes large and deep jet. Figure tall, but apparently very 
 agile, with long sinewy arms. Her skirts were short, and she 
 wore a scarlet cloak, as did all the other women and girls. 
 She led the foremost donkey. In one pannier there was 
 a chubby child some year and a half old, in the other a brace 
 of twins of some six months, who sat up and put Lord Dooms- 
 day out of countenance by the steady stare of their four bright 
 eyes as black and round as beads. 
 
 " Where are the men ?" said Jack. 
 
 " ^len ! wdiy where they always be when wanted. They're 
 off down in Northamptonshire, Whittlebury Forest way." 
 
 " Not on a poaching expedition I hope, Kose ?" said Jack. 
 
 " Poaching ! Good Lord ! young Bullfinch, who ever heard 
 of any of our people poaching ? I've three brothers in the 
 King's service." 
 
 " Ay, but. Rose, one of them serves in a King's ship, and 
 the others at Botany Bay." 
 
 " And the d — 1 take them that sent boys like them to the 
 Bay. But the two have done well in New South Wales. They 
 own more sheep than your father and Sir Jerry Snaffle to boot, 
 and ride good horses, young Bullfinch, though it's I that say 
 it in this green lane and not so much as a haulm-stack to lay 
 the kinchins to the lee off." 
 
 " Well, Rose, I know my father would not have you wan- 
 dering about this afternoon if he knew it. The lee side of a 
 sheep-fold is as snug as any copse. Go into our field under 
 the hill, and tell the shepherd and his boys that I sent you. 
 Make yourself snug there for to-night and to-morrow, and send 
 the boys with one of the donkeys to our house before dark. 
 He shall bring back beef and things, and something for the 
 kinchins, too." 
 
 " That's the speech of the young squire," said Rose. " Good 
 luck to you, Master Jack, and to your father and sister. If 
 my cousin. Jack Cotswold, and my fool of a husband " 
 
 " Is Jack in Northamptonshire ?" said Young Jack- 
 
280 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " No, in Lancashire. He's gone because of something 
 about Miriam, his niece. He may go to America for all I 
 know. She's there, and some say the Indians have carried 
 her off. But what then ? Some say the d — I's dead and 
 buried in Cold Harbor. AVhat business had she where the In- 
 dians were, and why did she follow Tom Scarlet and his 
 horse?" 
 
 " Rose," said Jack, " this gentleman is from ISTortharai^ton- 
 shire. His father owns great estates there." 
 
 " I know his father better than you do, and the young gen- 
 tleman himself as well," said Rose. " Many a time we camp 
 on his honor's estate, and though the steward would send us 
 packing, the earl let's us stay, and says : ' Good people, you 
 are welcome to camping ground, but you musn't injure the 
 plantations !' O, 'tis a bonny old earl ! Would the young 
 gentleman like to have his fortune told ?" 
 
 " Or to buy a dog ?" said the eldest boy. 
 
 " Or to see the twins ?" said one of the girls. 
 
 " No, never mind," said Lord Doomsday. " Take these two 
 guineas for the twins. I intended to give them half-crowns, 
 but it seems you are known to my father." 
 
 " Please, my lord, I think it is rather that he is known to 
 them," said Young Jack. 
 
 And then, as Rose tossed up the guineas with her thumb 
 nail and caught them as they came down, there was a rush 
 forward of all the women, girls, and boys, to assure Lord 
 Doomsday that they knew his father, the earl, too. 
 
 " May your honor's luck never fail," said the gypsy. Rose. 
 " May your horse never tire in the longest day. May the owl 
 never hoot nor the black dog howl under the eaves of your 
 hosts and friends, nor the red cock crow in the stack-yards of 
 your tenants. And good for you, too, young squire, is the 
 word of the gypsy wherever her people go — you and your 
 father. And for your sister, say to her, I have it from them 
 as knows, as well as by the winter stars, that she'll hear bad 
 news of a busybody and a fool, may the devil fetch him ! doubt- 
 ful news of a sailor; good news of him who slew the man on 
 horseback." 
 
 She said this with great rapidity and volubility. And Lord 
 Doomsday, escaping a moment from the steady, stony stare of 
 the twins, asked Jack what she meant. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 281 
 
 " Well, my lord, no harm to us. The red cock means fire 
 raising among barns and ricks." 
 
 " Ay, young Bullfinch !" said Rose, thro^viug back her tan- 
 gled hair, " and my young brothers, that was transported be- 
 fore your time, never 'listed under < Captain Swing,' but was 
 sent for poaching. Poaching ! Good lord ! If a boy looks 
 at a hare's run, or a mouse in a hedgerow^ people says he is a 
 poacher. I scorn 'em !" 
 
 " Ay ! But, Rose, I've heard say that your brothers maimed 
 two or three keepers in the fight at Wootton," said Jack. 
 
 " You've had that trom Moleskin. I scorn him, too. Tell 
 him I said so !" 
 
 With this she strode oflT, leading her donkey and her tribe 
 towards the field, in which stood the sheepfold of furze and 
 haulm, some eight feet high, and well calculated to shelter the 
 low gypsy tents and carts. Lord Doomsday rode the other 
 way, while Jack looked after the gypsies, and cogitated : " I 
 don't much like this," said he ; " Rose knows more than the 
 delivers ; but, one way or another, I'll have it out of her. 
 Never mind about the winter stars — it is what she has had 
 from those who know that I want to find out. Bad news of a 
 fool ! It's two to one that's Parkins — he musn't have speech of 
 May. Doubtful news of a sailor — that means one of the sailors 
 Sir Jerry rode after. Good news of him who slew the man on 
 horseback ! If that means that he slew Tom Scarlet, the best 
 news of him will be that he's hung. I must see Rose again. 
 Better day, better deed ! To-morrow, at break of day, I'll be 
 at her tent !" 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 " Under a palm tree by the green old Nile, 
 
 Lull'd on his mother's breast the fair Child lies, 
 With dove-like breathings, and a tender smile, 
 
 Brooding above the slumber of his eyes, 
 While, through the stillness of the burning skies, 
 
 Lo ! the dread works of Egypt's buried kings 
 Temple and pyramid beyond him rise, 
 
 Regal and still as everlasting things !" 
 
 AT five o'clock in the evening of the English midwinter it 
 is about dark, unless there be light from the moon and 
 stars. There was none as John Bullfinch and his daughter 
 
282 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 rode home from the Grange, loving and happy, side by side. 
 The sky was overcast and snow was falling. 
 
 At first the farmer whistled, but it seemed a disrespect to 
 the silence of the night, and he ceased his melody. A solemn 
 stillness prevailed for the most part, though at times they could 
 hear the baying of the distant watch dogs, while at other times 
 there was a near rush of many wings, as flocks of widgeon and 
 teal flew from the head springs, down the brooks to the open 
 ponds. As they rode along they could see the dark forms of 
 the hares and rabbits upon the thin snow% which half-covered 
 the young wheat. Once an old fox came stealing across the 
 road, and the farmer had a mind to stand in his stirrups, and 
 give the view halloo. He did not do so, however, but pointed 
 him out to May, as he loped along in the dusk, and observed 
 that he was foraging for his Christmas dinner. Away in the 
 distance they saw the light of the cottage fires gleaming 
 through the wdndows under the thatch, reminding them of 
 their own hearth. The horses quickened their steps, and soon 
 the evening peal from the bells in the solid, square tower of 
 the old Saxon church mingled with the rapid patter of their 
 hoofs. Pleasant are the bells in the young time of the long 
 winter night. Much gaiety there is in the morning marriage 
 peals which ring in the triumph of love, but other sounds 
 interrupt the harmony, which, in the stilly night, sounds un- 
 broken. Merrily yet softly rang the evening peal, to be suc- 
 ceeded at midnight by one more rapid and joyful, the ringers 
 being then partly primed with draughts from the cheerful 
 spring of stout John Barleycorn, a favorite time out of mind 
 through all the Midland counties of Merry England. The 
 lights of the old farm-house at Hawkwell appeared in sight, 
 and then John Bullfinch and his daughter w^ere received by 
 Young Jack and two of the men with sprigs of holly in their 
 button holes. 
 
 " Hawk'ell farm is a more cheerful place than the Grange," 
 said John Bullfinch, as he gave his reins to one of the men in 
 waiting. " It's just the same as it was in my grandfather's 
 time." 
 
 " Well, I don't know about that, father," said Young Jack, 
 " for I've heard you say that you saw the elms planted that 
 are big trees now, as high as the old house itself; but nothing 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 283 
 
 has changed in my time, and I hope nothing will. But, 
 father, there's a party at Hawk'ell Farm to-night," he added, 
 as he followed his father and sister into the house. 
 
 " Well, he's welcome — who is he ?" 
 
 " It isn't a man, but a strong party of women and children. 
 You see, Lord Doomsday, going home to keep Christmas at 
 his father's — it's an observance the earl expects — rode over to 
 see me, and left many respects and good wishes for you and 
 May. 
 
 " Very good ! I'm obliged to his lordship. I'm sorry I 
 was not at home," 
 
 " O, it made no difference. I took him over to the lane by 
 the Long Hill and the sheepfold ground, and there we met the 
 gypsy women and children of Rose Tanner's band, twins and 
 ail, on the tramp. Parkins, taking advantage of the absence 
 of the men, had bundled them, bag and baggage, out of the 
 hazel copse hollow, pretending that he had authority from Sir 
 Jerry, and there they were, on the hoof — night comiog, and 
 nowhere to go to, with Rose and her twins at the head." 
 
 " D — n Parkins !" said John. "May, my dear, that fellow's 
 meddlesomeness is insufferable. So the people are here now. 
 Jack ?" 
 
 " Why, no ; not here. It seems that they have often camped 
 on Lord Doomsday's father's estates, and promised — honor 
 bright ! — never to damage the plantations. Besides, Rose 
 offered to tell Lord Doomsday's fortune for nothing, and the 
 upshot was that I gave her leave to enter our ground and 
 make their camp for to-night and Christmas Day under the 
 burrow-side of the fold. I knew you wouldn't have the 
 women and children wandering about in the cold and snow on 
 Christmas eve, if you could help it." 
 
 " Come and kiss me, dear Jack," said May. " It was quite 
 right." 
 
 " I am not so sure of that," said John Bullfinch. " Jack has 
 fallen short of what I should have expected, considering the 
 time of the year and the bells we hear. Giving them leave 
 to camp was well enough in its way, but it wasn't enough," 
 
 " O, Jack ! that is true," said May. " You should have pro- 
 vided for their wants, in remembrance of those who were this 
 night lodged in the stable of an inn, and of Him w^ho was lain 
 in a man2;er, between an ox and an ass." 
 
284 THE WHITE HORSE OF WDOTTON. 
 
 " Never mind, Jack," said his father ; " it can be remedied. 
 After tea you shall drive the spring-cart over with some beef 
 and bread and things, and, as it's Christmas eve, a little sum- 
 mut in the drinking line, to keep the wandering creeturs warm 
 in their thin tents during the watches of this blessed night." 
 
 " Father, I went further than you and May think. I ordered 
 up two of the boys with a donkey. Rose sent one boy and the 
 oldest gal ; because, she said, as the girl reported, two boys 
 would eat and stuff and go slow all the way, whereas the gal 
 would hurry back to the twins with the best things untouched. 
 She knows a thing or two, Rose does. The gypsies are now 
 sitting round their fires, wishing good luck to this house and 
 everybody belonging to it. The twins are an uncommon fine 
 brace of kinchins." 
 
 " I wish I had been at home for the sake of the children," 
 said May. 
 
 " Then you needn't, as you'll find w'hen you see how many 
 of the patty-pan mince-pies have walked off to the sheepfold 
 on that donkey's four legs," said Jack. 
 
 " All right !" said John. *' I remember Rose Tanner when 
 she was a gal, and her three brothers were convicted and sen- 
 tenced to transportation. Mere boys ! it was hard. And I 
 think I can see her now, as she stood at the ring side a month 
 or two after her marriage, wearing her husband's colors in her 
 bonnet, and cheering him on while he licked the Northcountry 
 drover in a battle for 2bl. a side. 'Twas a good fight, and the 
 gypsy won. I know who found his battle money. Gypsy 
 Jack and Rose's father seconded him ; and, after it was over, 
 Sir Jerry observed that Rose would make a splendid bottle- 
 holder. The Admiral got her youngest brother's sentence com- 
 muted on condition that he should serve seven years in a man- 
 of-war, which is, he says, the best place for the education of 
 boys in the world. He ought to know, for he went on one at 
 ten years old. But the table is ready, and we'll take tea," 
 said John, with an eye to the cold chine. He then added, 
 briskly : " I have heard good news, Jack. That is to say, not 
 news altogether strictly speaking, but tidings." 
 
 " What is the difference between news and tidings ?" said 
 Jack. 
 
 " Sir, if you don't know the difference between news and 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX. 285 
 
 tidings, after the education you've had, and welcome to more, 
 I shan't take the trouble to explain it," said John. " Parkins 
 is a fool, mind that !" 
 
 " O !" cried Young Jack, his father having trod very heavily 
 on his toes. " Gammoned, perhaps," he added, with a wince, 
 and backing away from the boot. 
 
 " Regularly gammoned !" replied his father. 
 
 About ten o'clock, the farmer and his children left their 
 own sitting-room for the great kitchen, or hall, of the house. 
 It was prepared for the due keeping of Christmas eve. The 
 walls were bedecked with holly and ivy — the mystic bough 
 of the mistletoe of the oak hung in the centre of the ceiling, 
 and the yule log blazed upon the wide hearth. The milk- 
 maids, housemaid, the dairymaid and ploughboys, living in 
 the house, were already assembled, dressed in their best, 
 with their ruddy cheeks glowing in the light of the mighty 
 fire. At a wink from Young Jack, as he glanced up at the 
 mistletoe bough, the dairymaid got redder in the face than 
 ever. John Bullfinch and his daughter and son took their 
 seats. The farm and stable men were expected every minute. 
 Old Will Dean, the shepherd, was the first to come. When 
 he had seated himself in one of the chimney corners May filled 
 his pipe and handed it to him. " We be met agen ! master !" 
 said the old fellow, after he had pufled out clouds of smoke 
 for some time, " round this here Christmas fire. I was a-thiuk- 
 ing as I come along how many years it is since I first saw the 
 blaze on this hearth on Christmas eve. I got up to sixty that 
 I can remember ; but there must have been more, master, for 
 I was but a little shaver when I was first employed as bird- 
 keeper and such like, by your father — your grandfather. Miss 
 May and Master Jack ! I dreamed last night that this here 
 fire had never gone out since I first saw it on Christmas eve, 
 about sixty years ago !" 
 
 " It's onlucky to talk of such thing, at this time," observed 
 Timms, the ploughman, who had just come in, and had caught 
 the latter j^art of what Dean said, 
 
 "To be sure!" said the dairymaid. "It ben't Christmas 
 until after twelve o'clock." 
 
 " I'll stand to it that it is !" said old Dean. " I say Christ- 
 mas begins on Christmas eve ; and Christmas eve begins when 
 
286 TUE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 the yule log has been laid on the fire and is well lighted. 
 AVhy, I ought to know. I be the oldest man here, and have 
 seen more Christmas eves than any of ye. Moreover, shep- 
 herds be set down in the Bible in what it says about this 
 blessed night, and there's no mention made of ploughmen or 
 dairymaids !" 
 
 Old Will looked around triumphantly and resumed his pipe. 
 John Bullfinch, to cut off further discussion of this knotty 
 point, cried : 
 
 " Eleven o'clock, Jack ! everybody's here strictly belonging 
 to Hawk'ell ! pour out horns of last year's October. May, my 
 dear ! see to the punch. Your brother had almost forgot the 
 brandy." 
 
 Young Jack poured out for all the men and young women 
 from a mighty flagon of ale, and then his sister returned from 
 the bakehouse, followed by the two stoutest of the milkmaids, 
 buxom lasses who could swing a full pail of milk over their 
 heads without spilling a drop, bearing a great bowl of punch. 
 It was tightly tied over with a white cloth, but when set down 
 upon the hearth the fragrant fumes of brandy and spices arose 
 fi'om it. A few furtive glances at the mistletoe bough, with 
 suppressed giggles from the girls, succeeded the bringing in 
 of the punch. It was a signal that the crisis of the night was 
 coming on. 
 
 Half-past eleven by the tall old eight-day clock in the 
 corner, and John Bullfinch began to look impatiently towards 
 the door, as though he was in the mind to chide the tarrying 
 of some expected guest. The dogs, following the example of 
 the great raastift' bitch, raised themselves upon their haunches, 
 and made a little stir. The door was thrown open, and, 
 shaking the snow from his hat upon the threshold, Moleskin 
 appeared. Grounding the but of his gun, he cried : 
 
 " I know what you're going to say ! Don't mention such a 
 thing. It's all a mistake. I'm not late. I'm never late on 
 Christmas eve. Your clock is fast." 
 
 *' Dick, you are late," said John Bullfinch, with decided 
 emphasis, "but better late than never. The clock is not fast. 
 My grandfather had that clock, and it stood there in all my 
 fiither's time. That clock is none of your gilded, new-fashioned 
 gimcracks. She has been gone by a hundred years in this 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 287 
 
 family, and was never known to be a minute fast, or a minute 
 slow, on Christmas eve. I'll back her against any clock in 
 England on Christmas eve, barring the church clock. May, 
 my dear, we are all here now. Proceed with the narrative of 
 the first Christmas night." 
 
 Then May Bullfinch arose and with a sweet and low, but 
 clear voice, related the history of the birth of Our Lord as it 
 is given in the gospels. How the shepherds, watching their 
 flocks by night on the lone hills of Judea, saw a bright star in 
 the heavens, over Bethlehem, which had never been there 
 before ; how there came a vivid light, and the Angel of the 
 Lord appeared to them with great glory, and they were sore 
 afraid ; how he bade them to be of good cheer, for the 
 Saviour of the world was born of David's line; how the 
 Mother, going up to Jerusalem, had taken refuge in a stable, 
 where the Child was born, and laid in a manger, between an 
 ox and an ass ; how the wise men of the East saw His star 
 in the heavens, and came to worship Him ; how King Herod 
 issued a decree to kill all the babies, that the One foretold by 
 the prophets might be cut ofi"; and how the Angel appeared 
 to Mary and Joseph and told them to take the young Child 
 and flee into Egypt. 
 
 As she finished, a deep silence followed the cadence of her 
 soft voice, and all eyes were turned to the clock. Moment 
 after moment was counted, as they listened for its striking, or 
 the beginning of the Christmas peal from the strong old tower, 
 whose bells had rung it out to the frosty air of the night for 
 many centuries. It stood within a quarter of a minute of 
 twelve, and Moleskin said, in a ghost of a whisper : 
 
 " I know she's fast !" 
 
 He would have been reproved afterwards for breaking the 
 profound silence of the supreme moment, but at the instant 
 the clock struck there came such a clang from all the bells at 
 once as would have shaken any tower but the old Saxon church 
 tower, and as proved that the ringers were indeed tuned up to 
 concert pitch by the generous juice of stout John Barleycorn. 
 
 " Now, then ! who said that clock was fast ?" cried John 
 Bullfinch, triumphantly. "May, give me the punch-ladle! 
 Uncover the bowl !" 
 
 " Jest so !" said Young Jack, with a wink which compre- 
 hended all the maidens, and a glance overhead. 
 
288 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 "Now, then," said John, when he had served thera all, 
 "men and maids, here's a Merry Christmas and a Happy 
 New Year ' Drink it, every one !" 
 
 They did drink it, and drank it once again. The glasses 
 were then then set down, and there were more glances at the 
 green bough with the white berries above, and a good deal 
 more giggling. John Bullfinch led his daughter underneath, 
 and kissed her. IMoleskin, as an old friend of the family, fol- 
 lowed suit. Then old Will Dean advanced and took May's 
 hand. 'I have kissed this here beautiful lass and good 
 daater," said he, " every Christmas eve since she was born. 
 Her mother, the best 'oman as I ever knowed, or as ever lived 
 (except the Mother of Our Lord), brings her to me the first 
 time on Christmas eve, when she was three weeks old — for she 
 was born just three weeks before Christmas — and, says she : 
 < Will Dean, here is the prettiest little lamb that ever was sent 
 to bless a happy couple since the Great Shepherd was born 
 unto the world.' Them's the words she said. Master, you 
 can't deny it. Master Moleskin, you can't deny it. I'll stand 
 to it — nobody can deny it ! Then I kissed her." 
 
 " Very well !" cried Young Jack ; " kiss her again, and let 
 some of the rest of us have a chance under that bough !" 
 
 May and the old shepherd retired, when, amid much gig- 
 gling and laughing, Young Jack led the youngest and pret- 
 tiest of the milkmaids under the bough, and the regulation 
 ceremony followed fast and free. 
 
 The immense punch-bowl was largely lightened of its con- 
 tents before John Bullfinch said : " Your shawl, May. Come 
 on. Moleskin ! Come on, Jack ! Tom is ready, with his lan- 
 tern, and we'll pay the usual visit to Cowslip. She expects it, 
 and would be put out if we didn't go. She knows when Christ- 
 mas has come as well as we do." 
 
 " I'm rather dubersome about that," said Moleskin, as he fol- 
 lowed John and his daughter out. "She's a very knowing 
 mare, no doubt — almost as much so as my dogs, but as to her 
 knowing this night from another night " 
 
 " Your dogs !" said John Bullfinch, with some contempt ; " I 
 tell you Cowslip knows it is Christmas eve as well as we do, 
 if not better. Eh, May?" 
 
 " She does indeed, father." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 289 
 
 " It's a true bill, Moleskin : let me explain it," said Jack, 
 detaining him a little. " It's all along of the bells. They 
 never ring at midnight on any other night save the night of 
 the New Year, and then, you know, they begin with a muffled 
 chime, a quarter before twelve. Don't you see?" 
 
 " Don't I see ! why, it's as plain as the sun at noontime, on 
 a clear day, but I didn't see it before." 
 
 The hunting-mare was on foot, wide awake, with her head 
 to the door of the box. She answered their salutation, " A 
 Merry Christmas, Cowslip !" with a joyous neigh, and to May's 
 pats and fond caresses she replied with whinnies of gratifica- 
 tion. 
 
 " I told you so !" cried John. " She's fully aware of the 
 season, and up to the time o' night. See seems unusually 
 pleased this year. What is it, old gal ?" 
 
 " If I might venture to answer for her — I don't suppose she 
 can speak herself yet — it must be this," said Moleskin, point- 
 ing out the new saddle and bridle in her box. 
 
 " Eh !" cried John. " This is a plot, and Southdown was in 
 it." 
 
 " No, father ! it's a Christmas-gift to Cowslip from May and 
 me. There was nobody but May and me in it ; but I happened 
 to mention that we had it ordered to ^lag Southdown, and the 
 little lass couldn't help telling her father." 
 
 "Well, my children, you have made me and Cowslip very 
 happy — very happy !" said John. 
 
 When they returned to the house there was the usual leave- 
 taking. The men went home. The maids and boys went 
 talking and giggling up-stairs. May and Jack bade their 
 father and Moleskin good-night, and retired also. Then the 
 cronies sat themselves down to a quiet pipe and a last glass 
 of the punch. Neither spoke — their silent satisfaction was 
 too intense for conversation — until the keeper rose to go. Then 
 John remarked : 
 
 " Dick, the night has been passed as, on this hallowed occa- 
 sion, it ever should be. To my thinking, there was nothing 
 forgot." 
 
 " A small trifle I forgot myself," replied Moleskin. " There 
 should be a small matter of a bag here. Ah ! here it is !" 
 
 He drew a bag from under a side table, beneath which he 
 19 
 
290 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 had thrown it as he entered, and, emptying it at one shake, 
 out fell three brace of the very finest pheasants that ever flew 
 in the coverts. " With the compliments of the Marquis of 
 Chandos," said Moleskin, his cast-iron visage at its hardest 
 set. 
 
 "None of your humbug, sir!" said John, sternly. "What 
 do you mean by trying to humbug me f At this season, too ! 
 It's your gift — your own, Dick ! And why wasn't it made 
 while the people were here, so that they might see how you 
 remember your old friend ?" 
 
 " Not a word on that," said Moleskin. "The sight of pheas- 
 ants outside of the preserves — dead pheasants — is a temptation 
 to farmers' lads and men not proper to be put before 'em. If, 
 through seeing these pheasants, any of your men had been led 
 to venture into the covert?, the consequences might have been 
 serious, for man-traps and spring-guns " 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir ! drop your humbug ! It's your 
 present ! The marquis has nothing to do with it, and you 
 know it." 
 
 " I know nothing of the sort. I can prove by statement 
 and by argument, time and place fitting " 
 
 " I'll hear no statement ! Argument has no more eflfcct 
 upon me than upon Southdown himself Stop your gammon, 
 or I'll call my daater down, and she'll make you take the 
 pheasants away agen !" 
 
 "The marquis," said Moleskin, "directs me to shoot so 
 many pheasants, and give 'em away to the tenants." 
 
 " I'm no tenant of the marquis, sir !" 
 
 " I know it. But the marquis added : ' Don't forget your 
 old friend, John Bullfinch, and give him my compliments of 
 the season.' " 
 
 " There, now ! It's your own gift to your own friend — 
 that's what this is !" 
 
 "Well, goorl-iiight !" said Moleskin. 
 
 " Good-night, Dick ! Remember we dine at half-past one 
 on Christmas day." 
 
 " All right. I'll be here to a minute, providing that clock 
 ain't fast !" 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 291 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 "Mother of Empires! Daughter of Jails! 
 Hail to thee, New South Wales !" 
 
 MAY BULLFINCH and her brother sat awhile in her 
 room that Christmas eve, after they went up-stairs. The 
 boy thought once or twice that he would tell her what Lord 
 Doomsday said, but he did not. May repeated to him what 
 Old Straddles said at the Grange, but it did not much impress 
 Jack, although he determined not to say so. He would not 
 do anything to abate his sister's cheerfulness, and, though his 
 mind still ran upon the words of the gypsy, he talked of Tom 
 Scarlet. But while his sister sat with his hand in hers, and 
 recalled the incidents of former Christmas eves, at which Tom 
 Scarlet had been at Havvkwell, the boy resolved to see the 
 gypsy Rose at a very early hour in the morning. They then 
 talked of their father, and what a pleasure it was to see him 
 enjoy himself; of old Will Dean, the shepherd; of the 
 keeper, and of the Southdowns, especially the lassie Meg, 
 "who was a great favorite with them. At last. May being tired, 
 and Jack affecting to be so, the sister and brother knelt side 
 by side, as was their constant custom, and said their prayers 
 in the good, old, confiding style of children to a loving and 
 protecting God, " Our Father who art in Heaven." 
 
 Some time before the dawn of day the lad rose, dressed 
 himself silently, and went softly down-stairs. He patted the 
 great mastiff. Fury, as she lay before the yule fire, and then 
 went to the stables and awakened Tom, the groom, telling him 
 to clap the saddle on Young Cowslip. 
 
 " She ben't roughshod," said the sleepy groom. " Better 
 take Black Hearty. But wheer be 'e going before day, Mas- 
 ter Jack ?" 
 
 " To the sheepfold at the long hill, Tom." 
 
 " Then if I was 'e I wouldn't. Ship be all right, I know. 
 Shepherd Dean 'ull look out for them." 
 
292 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 
 
 " Tom," said Young Jack, " the gypsies are there, aud I 
 want to see Kose Tanner on particular business. Say nothing 
 of it." 
 
 " Well, you knows best, Master Jack, but have a keer of 
 that Kose. She's a regular rum 'un, she is. If you want 
 your fortin' tell'd, better get Dark Janet to do it ; she's the 
 'oman for that theer sort of thing. Rose is too obstropulus, 
 and folks say 'ull stick at nothing — nothing !" 
 
 " All right ! Mum's the word ! I'll be back before May 
 and my father are up." 
 
 " Hold on ! through the strawyard, if you must go. The 
 step of a horse on hard ground 'ull wake master any time. 
 Look out for that theer Rose. All them Coopers be rum 'uns, 
 and theer's a mighty sight on 'em all through the Midlands. 
 Her three brothers was transported in their teens. The young 
 'un warn't fifteen." 
 
 There was a " nipping and an eager air," a light wind from 
 the northwest sweeping over the crisp snow, and the stars were 
 paling and waning in the wintry sky, as Jack cantered on 
 towards the camp at the sheepfold. John Bullfinch had not 
 told his daughter and son all that he might have done in re- 
 gard to Rose and her brothers on the preceding evening. The 
 truth was, that when sentence was passed upon the boy aud 
 the two young men and the elder gypsy women raised a wail 
 of woe. Rose stood up, threw back her bonnet, berated the 
 judge, and made such predictions touching the homesteads and 
 stackyards of the jury as made some of them turn pale with 
 fear. The judge ordered her to be removed, but she fought 
 the sheriff's men like a young tigress, and tripped two of them 
 off their feet. Long before her strength and fury were spent 
 Tanner, the gypsy, who afterwards married her, a very strong 
 aud active young fellow, caught her suddenly under the arms 
 and carried her bodily out of court. When the convict ship 
 lay in the Thames, bound to Australia, Rose trudged up to 
 London, took farewell of her two brothers (the other was al- 
 ready aboard a man-of-war, at Portsmouth), and bespoke the 
 favor of some of the young officers and sailors for them. She 
 saw the ship under weigh at Deptford, and repeated to her- 
 self the words of an old ballad often chanted at fairs, feasts 
 and races in the Midlands : 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 293 
 
 0, as we sailed down the river, boys, 
 
 It was in the month of May, 
 And every ship that we passed by 
 
 We heard the sailors say, 
 * There goes a lot of clever young lads 
 
 And they're bound to Botany Bay.' " 
 
 The gypsies never lost their cheerfulness. They were looked 
 upon with favor by the sailors, marines and petty officers. 
 Poaching is, no doubt, a crime of extraordinary atrocity, but 
 that class of people do uot so regard it. Only once during 
 the passage were Rose's brothers put in irons, and that was but 
 for two or three days. Even in a convict ship there are classes 
 and factions. The London convicts, led by some eminent but 
 unfortunate members of the swell mob, treated the country 
 party with high disdain, calling them chaw-bacons, joskins, 
 bumpkins, yokels, &c. This was borne for some time ; but one 
 day, when rations were being served out, one of the swells, 
 with much dignity and hauteur, ordered the gypsies to stand 
 
 back. " Stan' back be d d ! we've as much right here as 
 
 you !" said the elder, and forthwith knocked the gentleman 
 down, whereupon his brother floored a highly respectable and 
 polished forger. In Australia, the gypsies were soon assigned 
 to an old army officer, who owned tens of thousands of sheep. 
 For three or four years they were shepherds on some of the 
 wildest and most remote runs in the colony. The life suited 
 them and they suited the life. They had a desperate battle 
 with a tribe of wild blacks, and repulsed them, with two or 
 three killed and several wounded. They stood high in favor 
 with their employer, and with his consent, volunteered for an 
 exploring expedition in the interior. There was no Melbourne 
 and no colony of Victoria then. After months of sore pri- 
 vation and the loss of many men, the expedition, or what re- 
 mained of it, limped back to New South Wales. For their 
 services, the gypsies received tickets of leave at once. The 
 old colonel furnished them with sheep on credit, and set them 
 up on a distant run. The gypsies were soon on the way to 
 wealth, and in a very few years possessed such land, flocks of 
 sheep and droves of horses as constituted riches beyond the 
 wildest dreams of their tribe at home. Behold, O rulers, 
 philosophers and sages, the mockery of fate ! Here was the 
 one who had been " graciously pardoned," a man before the 
 
294 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 mast in a ship of war ; and here were those who had crossed 
 the line, under the sign of bayonets and handcuffs, great 
 proprietors at the Antipodes, sure to be ranked among the 
 explorers and founders of the future mighty empire of the 
 Southeast. John Bullfinch did not know all this, but he did 
 know that the Coopers were now free men, their fourteen years 
 having expired, and that they w^ere uncommonly well-to-do. 
 They had sent money to their sister Rose through liim. The 
 first time it was twenty pounds, a draft drawn by a Sydney 
 bank, and there was a sensible injunction from the brothers to 
 keep it secret. The letter in which the draft was enclosed 
 read as follows : 
 
 " Mister John Bullfinch : We writes this for you to read 
 to our sister Hose, having been larnt on the passage, a long 'un. 
 This is a fine country when you get used to it. We got a 
 sight of sheep and some land, also horses. Our run is a long 
 way from the coast. AVe are glad to hear that Rose is well 
 married. She was the handsomest gal of all the Coopers. A 
 Warwickshire cove, sent out here for nothing in pertickler, he 
 says, though the beaks called it highway robbery, tells us her 
 husband, one of the Tanner's, you may know him, is a good 
 two-handed man. He seen him fight Dick the drover, and 
 our Rose was there. We sends this money to you because we 
 know you to be a good man, real gentleman. The bankers 
 advised us to send it to the parson at Riding-Stoke, but we 
 have our doubts about his honesty. Vf e was pulled afore him 
 and fined twice, when we never done it. So now no more, 
 only if you can buy a good thoroughbred horse cheap, fit for 
 a stallion, ship him to Sydney, consigned to Belcher & Buckle, 
 for us. We got plenty of money in the bank at Sydney, and 
 have left directions to pay all charges. So here's good luck 
 to all at Hawk'ell, and to Rose. 
 
 " From her brothers, Tom and Elijah Cooper." 
 
 The second remittance sent to John Bullfinch from Australia 
 for Rose was larger than the first, and with it came news that 
 her brothers were more and more prosperous. What she did 
 with the money John could not well make out. He offered to 
 put it in the bank for her, but Rose received the suggestion 
 with some contempt. Her husband got but little of it, and 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K 295 
 
 that was doled out to him about half a crown at a time. The 
 way of life of the family remained unchanged, but the brown 
 bare-legged girls were sometimes ornamented with earrings and 
 beads of gold. On one occasion the farmer asked the gypsy 
 whether she would not like to remove to Australia with her 
 husband and family. 
 
 "What!" said Rose, "leave my country, Old England? 
 Never, never ! Unless Jack Tanner should be fool enough to 
 get transported." 
 
 As Young Jack drew near the fold he gave a low whistle, 
 at which there was the barking of dogs, followed by the voice 
 of Rose in low tones. The gypsy came from her tent, and 
 made a gesture to the boy signifying that he should dismount. 
 She then made a dive into the tent and returned with a 
 Whitney blanket in which she and the lad enveloped the horse. 
 He was then hitched to the gateway of the fold. "Well, 
 young master, you're up betimes. I wonder if it betokens a 
 merry Christmas. I wish you one. Come into the tent. 
 There's no one there but the twins, with Jenny and her 
 young 'un. Come in out of the cold." 
 
 The tent was tolerably spacious, and very snug. When the 
 gypsy lit a lamp, Jack saw by its dull light that the twins lay 
 on a bed or rather on a blanket, thrown over boughs of balsam 
 fir. They were wide awake, and staring with all their might. 
 Beyond them was a large brown mass, at which the lad looked 
 ■with some surprise, when he could make out what it was. 
 
 "That's Jeuuy and her young 'un," said the gypsy, holding 
 the lamp so that young Bullfinch could plainly see a she ass 
 with her young foal. The latter, with its great, mild eyes, 
 stared as hard at him as the twins did. " Young squire, you 
 may talk as much as you like about racers and hunters, but 
 give me Jenny for my money. If anything happened to me 
 she would nurse them twins. They suck her sometimes as 
 it is." 
 
 " It's a wonder to me that the twins don't catch cold. Rose ; 
 there's little or nothing on them," said Jack. 
 
 " I took the blanket for your horse," she replied. " But our 
 people never catch cold. We leave that to you folks. You 
 put up houses like jails, and it's my opinion that all sorts of 
 ailments are built inside. Look at me ! I was never sick a 
 
296 THE WEITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 day in my life. Besides, the heat from Jenny keeps the 
 twins warm. Sit you down on the panniers there, and tell 
 me what vou came for. Is it for me to tell your sister's 
 fortune?"' 
 
 " No, it is not. May don't believe in those things. She 
 thinks it wicked, and says we should abide in I'aith and trust, 
 inquiring no further," said he. 
 
 "That's what she says, is 11?" replied the gypsy; "then 
 why the nation don't she abide in faith and trust, instead of 
 doubting and pining and saying prayers? Perhaps you want 
 your fortin' tell'd ?" 
 
 " No, I don't ; I want the truth told. Besides, they say that 
 you are not in that line. Dark Janet is the one for that, peo- 
 ple say." 
 
 " Dark Janet ! bah ! young Bullfinch ! She never tells 
 nothing above the cut of servant wenches, ploughboys and 
 cowboys. When I consults the stars it concerns the aristoc- 
 racy and gentlemen's daaters. How would you like to have 
 the young lord for your brother-in-law, young Bullfinch ?" 
 
 " Not at all," said Jack, stoutly. " It's a thing not to be 
 heard of. I'll stand for Tom Scarlet against the world. Be- 
 sides, Lord Doomsday don't like brothers-in-law. He told 
 me so !" 
 
 " You mean he don't like them he has got. "Well, there's 
 reasons for it. They want to come it over him, being older 
 than he is, and a precious sight poorer. They'd like to win 
 his money at blind hookey, and he won't let 'em, so no love is 
 lost. Scarlet was all very well. Good fellow enough— the 
 best rider in the Midlands. But he's running a race with the 
 d — 1, and it's neck and neck, if he isn't dead by this time." 
 
 "Eosc," said the boy, "I love my sister; I have always 
 loved her, and now I see her with trouble on her mind, 
 I would give anything to help her. I am sure you know 
 more about what the sailors said, or what somebody has said, 
 than you have owned up to." 
 
 " Now, by the bright stars that shine over the eastern lands 
 and above the southern seas, where my boys live — my brothers 
 — you say well. Young Jack. If I consults the stars, I shall 
 find out more about Tom Scarlet, and Miriam, and the other, 
 and what not, than Sir Jerry would get out of them sailor 
 
THE WHITE HOBSE OF WOOTTON. 297 
 
 chaps in a month of Sundays. Them fellows can hardly be 
 called real sailors. Now, I have got a man-o'-war's man, who 
 went aboard at fifteen, or a little less, and has been in the 
 service eighteen years. Shall I consult the stars about Scar- 
 let, and him, and the one who slew the man on horseback?" 
 
 " Never mind the stars now^ Look here, Kose ! Here are 
 five guineas. Take them and tell me the news, good or bad. 
 It seems to me that if Tom Scarlet is killed, my sister's heart 
 will break and I shall never want any money any more," said 
 Jack, with tears. 
 
 " Let me see that money !" said the gypsy, violently. " It's 
 honestly come by, I'll swear. Boy, put that money up ! You 
 remind me of my young brother Jim, when he stood with Tom 
 and Elijah at the bar and the judge pronounced the cruel sen- 
 tence, ' transportation beyond the seas for the term of fourteen 
 years.' Put that money up, I say ! I have gold galore. Look 
 here !" 
 
 She drew forth an old tea-caddy and poured out a stream 
 of coined gold into her lap. The boy looked on amazed, but 
 said nothing, and she returned the money to its hiding-place. 
 
 "Now, be secret about this money," she said. "Nobody 
 knows of it but you and me and Tom and Elijah, who sent it 
 from Australia to your father. I've hoarded it for years and 
 years. What do you think it's for ?" 
 
 " For the twins and the other children, I should think," he 
 replied. 
 
 " The d — 1 a bit. Young Jack ! The children's uncles in 
 Australia have plenty for them. This is for their young 
 brother, my young brother, Jim Cooper ; the bonniest lad that 
 ever snared a hare or took a duck's nest. O, Young Jack I" 
 she exclaimed, seizing his hand, " 'tis eighteen years since that 
 boy stood at the bar. Eighteen years in men-of-war, all over 
 the world, and now, for the first time, he's coming home again ! 
 I always knew the young one would come. I never thought 
 the others would, especially after I found they had so much 
 money." 
 
 " Rose, I'm very glad ; and I'll say nothing about the gold," 
 said Young Jack. " But now, since you feel so much joy over 
 the near return of your brother, tell me all you know, or think, 
 about Tom Scarlet. Let my sister and me rejoice too, if it is 
 
298 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 possible. You didn't find out about Jim's return from the 
 stars." 
 
 " You're right, I did not. I had it from a person who knows ; 
 one who saw him at Halifax. His ship was about to sail for 
 England, and ought to be, by this time, in the Channel, if not 
 anchored off Portsmouth." 
 
 " And that man told you about doubtful news for my sister 
 May from a sailor, and good news from the man who slew the 
 man on horseback?" 
 
 " Nothing of the sort. It wasn't a man that told me at all, 
 but a woman — a young woman who expects to be married to a 
 man now at sea, but running in for the land, I think." 
 
 <« Then there's no hope from that source," said Jack, de- 
 sjDondiiigly. 
 
 " Jack, my boy ! my good boy ! I never said so. It may be 
 a deal better than you think. Nay, I am sure it is. Go home 
 and keep your spirits up. By that means you'll comfort your 
 sister. Be of cheer ! Look at them twins, and at Jenny's 
 foal. Care killed a cat ! I can't say any more, and I won't. 
 When you see or hear of a sailor in this neighborhood — I 
 mean the real thing — man-of-war's man, captain of the fore- 
 top, and well-bekuown to the Admiral — jump on Black Hearty 
 and ride to me as if the d — 1 was behind you." 
 
 "Thanks, Rose! Good-by !" said Young Jack. "I see 
 by the light through the tent that the dawn is breaking. Shall 
 I tell my father about that gold ? As it came to him, I sup- 
 pose I may ?" 
 
 " Jack, the least said about that the better, until Jim ar- 
 rives," said the gypsy. "My husband is very w^ell content 
 now, but he would worrit the life out of me if he knew how 
 much money I have. Wait till Jim comes home. You may 
 tell your father that he's coming." 
 
 "Ay, coming from Halifax!" said Jack. "Rose, it just 
 strikes me this moment that I've heard of that place before." 
 
 " Very likely ! There's a tow^n of the name in Yorkshire." 
 
 " Ay, so there is," said Jack, " but there's another in Nova 
 Scotia, Rose, and that's in America, as sure as my name is 
 Bullfinch." 
 
 " Well, what of it ? It's a thousand mile, very likely two 
 thousand, from wdiere the sailors sailed from that said the man 
 was killed and Miriam carried oft' by the Indian." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 299 
 
 " You don't believe she's carried off, do you ?" 
 " Well, to tell you the truth, I don't," said Rose. " Miriam 
 is a spirited girl — cousin of mine, you know, and isn't likely 
 to be carried far agaiust her will. She's more likely to have 
 carried the Indiau off than he is to have carried her. Your 
 sister will be up before you're home. Mount and ride. I'd 
 give you the stirrup-cup if you ever drank. When you hear 
 that my brother Jim is in the countryside, jump on your horse, 
 and come to me fit to split the wind. Do it ! And look at 
 these twins. When you be married to Meg Southdown she 
 may have such a pair." 
 
 " I say, Rose, none o' that. We are both very young at 
 present — at least, Meg is ; and I know that when we are mar- 
 ried she will be satisfied with one at a time. Good-morning." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 " O'er capon, heron-shaw, and crane, 
 And princely peacock's gilded train, 
 And o'er the boar's head garnished brave, 
 And cygnet from St. Mary's wave; 
 O'er ptarmigan and venison, 
 The priest had said his benison." 
 
 AMONG the notable discoveries of modern times in 
 " Merrie England " there is one, announced by several 
 writers, including Mr. Frank Buckland, to the effect that no 
 Englishwoman can cook a dinner. It happened, about a year 
 ago, that this lamentable fact was brought to the notice of a 
 party of exiles of Albion, who were dining in New York — 
 very well, as they ignorantly supposed, after the manner of 
 their savage and uncultivated ancestors — upon roast beef, 
 boiled mutton and caper sauce, ducks, capons, plum-pudding, 
 mince-pie, apricot-tarts, etc. This repast, coarse and vulgar 
 as it must have been according to Mr. Buckland, a perfidious 
 Englishwoman had pretended to cook, and the benighted com- 
 pany actually ate it with relish. Indeed, they treated the dis- 
 covery of Mr. Buckland with that sort of churlish contempt 
 with which the precepts of the wise are commonly received by 
 the vulgar. One old fellow, of some wealth and standing, but 
 
300 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 
 
 much brutality, proposed that the writings of the philosophers 
 above mentioned should be searched, over the wine, for the 
 necessary corollary to the statement, " No Englishwoman can 
 cook a dinner," which, the old fellow in question declared, 
 must be, "no Englishman can eat a dinner!" The books 
 were sent for, at this suggestion, and gone through by the 
 chairman, but somehow or another, probably from haste and 
 carelessness, the necessary corollary was not found. 
 
 It may be that no Englishwoman can noiv cook a dinner ; 
 but in that case, what with normal schools, women's rights, 
 fish museums and snug sinecures for diletante philosophers, 
 the culinary art has been much neglected of late, in the little 
 islands beyond the melancholy main. Forty years ago it was 
 an article of faith with the gentlemen and fox-hunters of good 
 appetite and renown that Englishwomen could cook a very 
 good dinner. If anybody had made a statement to the con- 
 trary in the kitchen of the Barleyraow, where in the first 
 week of January the buxom landlady, and the portly cook 
 who presided in the kitchen of Sir Jerry Snaffle, were engaged 
 in the preparation of the Hunt Dinner, it would have been 
 received with some contempt, to say nothing of hot water. 
 But this result would only have reminded the philosophers of 
 what Tim Moore called " the barbarism of the English, who 
 peels their 'taters before they biles 'em." 
 
 The annual dinner of the hunt was always one of the great- 
 est festivals in the riding. The wits of the BarleymoAV wei'e 
 yearly threshed, and all its retainers, from the fat landlord to 
 ihe smallest waiting-maid, were annually inspired to venture- 
 some enterprise and exertion, in order that it might be served 
 with the profusion and excellence demanded by such an oc- 
 casion. Among those never absent from the time-honored 
 festival were John Bullfinch, Mr. Southdown, and about a 
 score more of the opulent farmers of the Vale and its neigh- 
 borhood, all good men after the hounds and before the trencher. 
 On the day in question they had agreed to come together at 
 Hawkwell, and ride in company to the Barleymow, where 
 they would meet Sir Jerry Snaffle and other country gentle- 
 men, the Rev. Mr. Jericho and other beneficed clergymen. 
 Major Fitzgerald and other officers of the army and navy, 
 Mr. Doublefee, and some other gentlemen of the learned pro- 
 
THE WHITE HOBSE OF WOOTTON. 301 
 
 fessions from the neigh ooring towns. There might be ex- 
 pected also some gentlemen from Oxford, studeDts at that 
 renowned university, aud ardent lovers of hunting the fox. 
 
 John Bullfinch was already dressed in his best ; his daughter 
 had surveyed his manly figure and comely face wdth pride and 
 affection. He had kissed her twice, and was about to do so 
 for the third time, when the stentorian voices of Southdown 
 and the others who "stuck by the land" and followed the fox 
 and hounds, summoned him to the gate. In spite of the color 
 which glowed in her cheek and of the light which kindled in 
 her clear blue eye, as she parted from her father, May Bull- 
 finch looked anxious and careworn. The rumor started by 
 the sailors and blown abroad far and wide by the indefatigable 
 Parkins, had reached her and filled her mind with doubt and 
 anxiety, which her father and Young Jack were unable to 
 relieve. Sir Jerry had overtaken the sailors on the London 
 road, and had heard all the information they were able to im- 
 part. They told what the baronet called " a cock-and-bull 
 story" of a fight on the banks of a river in the far West, in 
 which an Englishman had been killed. Two of them thought 
 the man's name was Tom Scarlet, but the other said it was 
 not. They had heard the story at New Orleans, where it was 
 told them in a drinking place by an acquaintance of one who 
 had been at the affray. The acquaintance was a " river man" 
 — meaning one employed on the steamboats which navigate 
 the Mississippi and the Arkansas — and his friend at the fight 
 was " a gentleman by the name of Keeps," who had made 
 heroic but unavailing efforts to save the Englishman's life. 
 The third sailor maintained that the name of the man men- 
 tioned as killed was not Scarlet ; but he said that three or four 
 were killed, and Scarlet might be one of the others. He, the 
 sailor, remembered the Admiral, Sir Jerry's father-in-law, very 
 w^ell, having had good reason to do so. This was true, if two 
 or three dozen with a cat-o'-nine-tails is good reason. He 
 would have been glad to give the yarn from end to end, " right 
 off the reel and without a kink," and he should have been 
 able to do so, having meant to return and question the river 
 man at the grog-shop at leisure, but unfortunately he was that 
 night put in the calaboose for knocking a Dutchman down, 
 and never got out until he was taken to his ship by the police, 
 just as her sails were loose and her anchor awash. 
 
302 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 To John Bullfinch this was very unsatisfactory, while Mr. 
 Southdown admitted that he could make nothing of it. Sir 
 Jerry, in his opinion, had failed to keep the magistrate and 
 the baronet in the background, and had not brought " fbr'ard" 
 the Admiral's daughter as he ought to have done. 
 
 " However," said he to John, " the main p'int is settled. 
 I don't care who was killed — Tom Scarlet is alive and well ! 
 You may say there's no evidence of it, but I don't care for 
 that. My mind's made up. No argeymeut will change it." 
 
 The great room at the Barleymow had never held a finer 
 company than those who stood up while the Rev. Mr. Jericho 
 said grace. The apartment was ornamented with pictures, 
 emblems and trophies of the chase, mingled with boughs of 
 holly and ivy and branches of the laurel green from Sir 
 Jerry Snaffle's lawn. Here was the portrait of Gray Goose, 
 the famous mare ridden by the barcnet himself in so many 
 long and hard runs. Here was that of Kilkenny, the favorite 
 Irish hunter, which carried Major Fitzgerald so well. Here 
 was the likeness of The Waler, the wonderful jumper from 
 Botany Bay, sent over from New South Wales to Mr. Sidney 
 by his son. Here was the huntsman, Old Tom, on a famous 
 brown horse, the picture having been j^ainted for the hunt, 
 by a convivial artist who had run up a score at the Barley- 
 mow, which the fastest and stoutest of foxes might have en- 
 vied for its length. Besides all these, there were pictures of 
 John Bullfinch on Cowslip ; of Mr. Southdown on his great 
 weight-carrier. The Bullock ; of Tom Scarlet on Danger. 
 
 Then there were portraits of famous hounds, the heroes, the 
 favorites, the beauties of the pack — Rallywood, Ringwood, 
 Ranter, Rover, and Ranger, Vengeance, Velocity, Virago, 
 Veracity and Virtue. Nor were the exploits of the vulpine 
 race forgotten. Over the chair of Sir Jerry Snaffle, as he 
 presided, appeared the head and brush of that famous dog fox 
 which had run twenty miles, at a racing pace, as the crow 
 flies. Over that of the vice-president. Major Fitzgerald, an 
 Irish veteran, with but one arm and the scar of a deep sabre 
 cut on the cheek, were those of the celebrated vixen who had 
 three times fooled the pack at the end of good runs, but was 
 at last viewed effecting the usual entrance into the Rev. Mr. 
 Jericho's church, through a broken window among the ivy, 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 303 
 
 after which it was her custom to take sanctuary in the pulpit, 
 and sleep as sound as any Christian did during the sermons 
 of that learned and eloquent divine. In short, the decorations 
 of the dining room were artistic and complete, quite in keeping 
 with the occasion, in the opinion of everybody who saw it 
 except Young Jack. On being shown it on the forenoon of 
 the day in question, Young Jack was critical touching the 
 paintings, and said : 
 
 " If Lord Doomsday had been taken on Blue Peter and I 
 on Young Cowslip, just as we gave the death-halloo when the 
 hounds pulled down the Fringford Gorse fox, this room would 
 have looked much better than it does to-day." 
 
 The dinner proper was over, the knives and forks had been 
 removed, the ability of the cook had been mentioned with 
 approval, and the company had settled themselves for a course 
 of that steady drinking, which was the custom of Englishmen 
 at hunting dinners forty years ago. The usual and loyal 
 toasts had been given and cordially received, and now there 
 was a lull, during which conversation passed upon various 
 topics at different places round the table. Mr. Doublefee took 
 advantage of it to address his clients, John Bullfinch and 
 Richard Southdown, who were seated opposite to him, and in 
 the centre of the farming array. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said he, with a bland smile, " have you heard 
 that there is soon to be a vacancy in the representation of our 
 county in Parliament ?" 
 
 They had not heard of it. Southdown doubted it. 
 
 " It is unquestionably the case," said Mr. Doublefee. " I 
 have it from the best authority. Our senior member. Sir 
 Jasper Jericho, in consequence of age and growing infirmity, 
 feels compelled to retire from public life." 
 
 " More's the pity!" said Mr. Southdown, solemnly. 
 
 " Sir, you may well say so. He has been an able and a con- 
 scientious member," replied Mr. Doublefee. 
 
 " He stuck to the land and defended the Constitution," said 
 Southdown. " That's what is wanted in times like these here, 
 when all sorts of doctrines meet us on every hand." 
 
 " So he did. Now, as to his successor," said Mr. Doublefee, 
 in his most insinuating tone, with his right forefinger in the 
 palm of his left hand, and leaning over towards them as far as 
 
304 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 the table would allow. " I think there will not be much dif- 
 ference of opinion among us here." 
 
 " So do I/' replied Mr Southdown ; and he added in his 
 most positive manner, " Sir Jerry's the man." 
 
 " Eh ! Sir Jerry !" Mr. Doublefee exclaimed, with evident 
 surprise and some embarrassment. " Sir Jerry Snaffle is an 
 excellent man — good landlord, patriotic in sentiment, highly 
 
 respected, and all that sort of thing, but " 
 
 " But what ?" said Southdown, looking Mr. Doublefee in 
 the eye. 
 
 " Why, my dear sir, and you, Mr. Bullfinch, both gentlemen 
 of influence — of very great and deserved influence with the 
 intelligent and patriotic gentlemen of your a — a — class — who 
 cast five out of six of the votes for the counties, and whose 
 knowledge and integrity form one of the strongest bulwarks 
 of the glorious Constitution in Church and State — I say that 
 
 you, gentlemen — I venture to say to you, gentleme " 
 
 " Come to the p'int ! We have heard all that before once 
 or twice at the hustings. You come to the p'int," said South- 
 down. 
 
 " I am coming to it, my very dear sir and esteemed client," 
 replied Mr. Doublefee, in a coaxing tone. " Don't you think 
 that Sir Jerry's abilities and virtues are much more appreciated 
 here than they would be in Parliament — that he is, in fact, 
 much more in his element here, if I may so speak, than he would 
 be before the — the — not the woolsack, but the Speaker's chair V 
 "No, I don't!" replied Southdown, sternly. 
 " Lawyer," said John Bullfinch, " Sir Jerry Snaffle is in his 
 proper element here — among his neighbors, his friends, his 
 tenants, and the people in general of these parts. It would 
 be very hard to get another country gentleman like Sir Jerry 
 that is equal to him in every quality a country gentleman 
 should have. It's easy enough to get a tolerable member of 
 P.adiament, so far as my experience goes. But it's my opinion 
 that Sir Jerry in Parliament would tell the House a thing or 
 two, now and then, which the House ought to know. Not this 
 county alone, not our class alone, but all England, would be 
 benefited in the most marked degree, by having Sir Jerry in 
 Parliament. It would be like bringing in a strain of the old 
 blood after two or three out-crosses." 
 
I 
 
 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 305 
 
 " Jest so ! my sentiments exactly. Just ^vl^at I was a-going 
 to say myself!" cried Southdown with exultation, while the 
 other farmers, laughing with glee, nodded to each other and 
 took wine. 
 
 " Therefore," said John Bullfinch, " seeing that we could 
 still have Sir Jerry among us for about nine months in the 
 year, I say we ought to be willing to let the whole of the coun- 
 try have the benefit and assistance of his long experience and 
 uncommon fine talents the other three." 
 
 There was great applause around John as he finished. Mr. 
 Doublefee looked vexed and astounded at this amazing defec- 
 tion of the men he had considered certain to support his views 
 and the nice little plan he had cut and dried for the filling of 
 the expected vacancy. His temper was not improved by the 
 observation of Mr. Fallowfield, a farmer of great wealth, one 
 of his own clients, who after staring at him intently for a long 
 time, said, "Lawyer Doublefee, you be put down! John Bull- 
 finch has laid 'e flat o' your back." 
 
 *' Hem — the gentleman has argued well, but from mistaken 
 premises," replied Mr. Doublefee. " Sir Jerry will not stand 
 for the county." 
 
 "He will if we ask him ; and we will ask him! eh, John? 
 eh, neighbor Fallowfield ?" returned Southdown. 
 
 " Gentlemen, gentlemen, I beg of you to do nothing in 
 haste," said Mr. Doublefee, hurriedly. " The fact is, that a 
 candidate has been already selected and agreed upon." 
 
 " Who by ?" asked Southdown, with a lowering, brindle-bull 
 sort of look at the lawyer. 
 
 " Who by ! why, bless my soul, gentlem.eu, by the profes- 
 sional classes — the townsmen and constituents, represented by 
 the committee which agreed upon him." 
 
 " Then I say let the professional classes — townsmen and 
 what not — elect him," roared Mr. Southdown, " for I'll be 
 
 d d if I put boot in stirrup to ride for any such purpose ! 
 
 John Bullfinch and above five hundred more will say the same. 
 Sir Jerry's the man !" There was the hum of approval fall- 
 ing like a knell upon the ear of Mr. Doublefee from the score 
 of representative men who sat by John Bullfinch, Southdown 
 and old Fallowfield, and gloried in the force with which, as 
 they expressed it, Bullfinch and Southdown had floored the 
 20 
 
306 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 lawyer. The latter, however, was determined not to give it 
 up. 
 
 " The time and place," said he, " are not suitable for the 
 dispassionate argument of the tj[uestion, but allow me to " 
 
 " I won't allow nobody to argey the question with me, sir," 
 cried Southdown. " My mind's made up. Sir Jerry's the 
 man for me !" 
 
 " Exactly so !" cried the Irish major. " O, Sir Jerry is the 
 man for me !" It was the refrain of a hunting song, a great 
 favorite with the members of the hunt, composed by the con- 
 vivial artist who had put up so long at the Barleymow, and who 
 had been unanimously voted " an out-and-out clever fellow !" 
 
 " But Mr. Southdown, Mr. Bullfinch, gentlemen !" said Mr. 
 Doublefee, pathetically, " allow me to state who it was that 
 the — the — constituents selected." 
 
 " It don't matter who, as it wasn't our man," replied South- 
 down. " Sir Jerry is the only man." 
 
 " But it was Lord Doomsday !" said Mr. Doublefee, impress- 
 ively, and leaning back in his chair like one who had deliv- 
 ered a knock-down blow and fallen from the recoil. 
 
 The farmers, one and all, looked at Southdown to ascertain 
 what effect this coup might have upon their redoubtable cham- 
 pion. It was not such as Mr. Doublefee had confidently anti- 
 cipated. 
 
 " I don't care for Lord Doomsday — he's a sort of boy," said 
 he, doggedly. " None of us care for him. His father's land 
 is not in this county. H3 only comes here to hunt, and that 
 but seldom. Sir Jerry's the man !" 
 
 " To be sure he is !" said John Bullfinch. *' Lord Dooms- 
 day's father owns a great deal more land than Sir Jerry does, 
 but it's nothing like such good land. And, besides, it lies a 
 long way from this county. Then, again, in regard to the 
 two gentlemen as hunting men, which must be considered as 
 having great weight. Sir Jerry is the best rider. The young 
 lord is a good one, for a light-weight and a young man of his 
 experience, but Sir Jerry is a man of ten thousand in a real 
 hunting run. My son Jack is the only one who dares to com- 
 pare Lord Doomsday to him. Besides, Lord Doomsday says 
 he does not want to enter parliament for some years to come. 
 He told me so himself at Hawkwell. Sir Jerry is the man 
 for this county. If Tom Scarlet was here he would say so." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 307 
 
 In grief and wrath, while the ap])laiis3 which followed John's 
 remarks was yet humming, Mr. Doublefee turned to his right- 
 hand neighbor, Doctor Dose, the gentleman with whom he had 
 the colloquy respecting Tom Scarlet, mentioned in the early 
 part of this history. The doctor's memory was refreshed by 
 his hearing Tom Scarlet's name, and he said : 
 
 " Have vou heard what has happened to that Scarlet, Mr. 
 Doublefee V' 
 
 " No good, I venture to say, if he has met with his deserts. 
 What about him ?" said the lawyer. 
 
 " He's dead, that's all, and a good riddance." 
 
 " When and where, doctor ? and did he die intestate ? The 
 Grange is a very snug property, and there's no knowing who 
 may be the next in succession to the deceased." 
 
 Mr. Doublefee put these questions with a revival of cheer- 
 fulness, and the learned gentlemen took wine together, as 
 though toasting the next heir, whoever he might be. 
 
 " When and where he died, and what was the cause of death, 
 I cannot exactly say," replied the doctor. " In all probability 
 there was no post-mortem examination, perhaj^s no inquest; 
 for, though he died by violence, it was somewhere or another 
 in America." 
 
 " Somewhere or another in America ! That's vague doctor ! 
 The next of kin could hardly eject those in possession, without 
 more definite evidence than that. The deceased may turn up 
 again." 
 
 " I know he may," said Doctor Dose, " for the vitality of 
 patients of that stamp is amazing. Nature seems to have 
 formed their economy to show that she is more powerful than 
 science. When Scarlet's crony, Belcher, was shot through the 
 right lung, I attended him. You would have thought that 
 would have killed him, if anything could, but he recovered, 
 and refuses to pay the bill." 
 
 " What a villain ! Recover, and not pay the bill. Why 
 not bring your action, doctor?" 
 
 " He pretends," said Doctor Dose, " that I never treated him. 
 If so, it was not my fault. Scarlet would not allow me to 
 probe the wound. Belcher himself refused to take any medi- 
 cine." 
 
 " And yet recovered — shocking — shocking !" said Double- 
 fee. 
 
308 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " Scarlet, however," said the doctor, " will not be likely to 
 turn up again. If he is dead or permanently detained abroad 
 by other causes, it will be an excellent thing for this neigh- 
 borhood and county. Pheasants will be more plentiful, poach- 
 ers more scarce. The fellow was a poacher and a friend to 
 poachers. Whenever one was in jail, his wife, sister or mother, 
 as the case might be, always flew to the Grange for relief and 
 encouragement. It will be a good thing if Scarlet never 
 comes back." 
 
 Mr. Doublefee nodded approval, and took wine with the 
 doctor. The farming interest opposite looked sullen and glum. 
 Relief was at hand, however, from an unexpected quarter. 
 Sir Jerry Snaffle had heard a great deal of the doctor's dis- 
 course and determined to interpose. 
 
 **■ Doctor Dose," said he, " were you S23eaking of one of 
 your ow^n patients, just now?" 
 
 The doctor looked confused, and with some hesitation, re- 
 plied, " No patient of mine, Sir Jerry, but Tom Scarlet." 
 
 The baronet's eyes dilated like those of one of the feline 
 tribe about to spring. The reddish brown whiskers seemed 
 to curl at their ends. With a frown upon his brow, and a 
 flush all over his handsome face, he rose, pushed back his 
 chair, and stood erect before the company of which he seemed 
 the king. His w'as a noble presence. 
 
 " Silence, gentlemen !" cried the Irish major, " silence, for 
 Sir Jerry Snaffle, President of our hunt !" 
 
 " Gentlemen and friends," said Sir Jerry ; I purpose to 
 make a few remarks, and to conclude with a toast, which I 
 hope and believe will not be unacceptable." [" Good ; go 
 on."] " At our annual dinners, as you are all well aware, 
 the majority are hunting men. A few gentlemen, however, 
 generally do us the honor to be our guests, who are not hunt- 
 ing men. They are none the less welcome. But they do not 
 understand as we do the sentiments which bind us together — 
 the feelings which grow^ up through fellowship in the hunting 
 field, between good riders and keen sportsmen of whatever 
 degree." 
 
 Major Fitzgerald. — " Hear ! Hear ! How should they ?" 
 
 " To the want of this understanding of this fellows-feeling 
 I attribute the remarks I heard made by Dr. Dose concerning 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 309 
 
 one who is now absent, but who was seldom ot never behind 
 at the end of a hard run, if he was at the meet. I allude to 
 Tom Scarlet!" 
 
 Great applause from everybody, except Mr. Doublefee and 
 Doctor Dose ; but especially from the major. 
 
 Sir Jerry continued : " Doctor Dose says Tom Scarlet is 
 dead ; that if he is not dead, it is to be hoped he will never 
 come back here ; that his death or permanent absence would 
 be a good thing for this neighborhood and this county : that 
 pheasants would be more plentiful ; that he was a notorious 
 poacher, and a friend to poachers and their families ; that he 
 was a bad fellow generally, and it is to be hoped we shall never 
 see him again. Gentlemen, is that true ?" 
 
 A " No !" which almost shook the pictures in their frames 
 was the answer all around the room, and Mr. Southdown, in a 
 voice like the bellow of one of his own bulls, cried : " All 
 lies !" 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Sir Jerry, in a louder and more ani- 
 mated tone, as though be had get what the company would 
 have called second wind, " Tom Scarlet is not dead. Neither 
 his death nor his permanent absence is to be apprehended or 
 desired. Gentlemen, we know the man ! We have seen him 
 go at many a thick bullfinch and sail over many a wide brook. 
 A better rider never sat in pigskin." (Great cheers.) 
 
 Tlie Major. — " A man of ten thousand, and always behaved 
 like a gentleman. Picked me up before I was down, when 
 me horse was knocked over by a tailor from Tooley street on 
 a runaway black mare." 
 
 Sir Jerry continued : " Tom Scarlet may have a fault or 
 two. I do not mean to say that he is quite perfect ; but when 
 he returns, if he should bring an action for defamation of 
 character, it will be very difficult for Doctor Dose to prove 
 to a jury of this country that he is a notorious poacher." 
 
 The doctor got pale and red by turns. He appealed to Mr. 
 Doublefee by a look, but that gentleman resolved not to see it, 
 and nodded to John Bullfinch, as though to signify, "Sir Jerry 
 had him there — upon the legal points involved, Sir Jerry has 
 the best of it." 
 
 The baronet continued : " Something has been said by Doc- 
 tor Dose about pheasants. Pheasants are very good " 
 
310 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 The Major. — " Nothing better, roasted, with bread sauce and 
 the right kind of gravy. That I ate of here was done to a 
 turn !" 
 
 " But in a part of the country like ours," said Sir Jerry, 
 " there are other things to be considered besides pheasants and 
 pheasant-shooting. Need I say I mean fox-hunting and farm- 
 ing, hounds and foxes, horses and men ? Without fox-hunting 
 your men wdll degenerate in pluck." 
 
 The Major. — " True for you ! 'Twas and is the opinion of 
 the Duke. His best men at Waterloo were fox-hunters. I 
 know it. 'Twas there I lost me arm and got this slash in the 
 cheek from the sabre of a cuiraissier. (Hear, hear ! from Mr. 
 Doublefee.) 
 
 Sir Jerry resumed : " Without hunting your best breeds 
 of riding-horses would soon be done for; because there w^ould 
 be nobody to buy one worth more than twenty pounds." 
 
 The farmers looked at each other with alarm, and regarded 
 Doctor Dose with displeasure, as if he was an enemy to fox- 
 hunting ; wdiereas, some of his best cases had arisen through 
 accidents in the hunting-field. 
 
 Sir jerry went on : " The noble hounds, in which we take 
 so much pride, would be replaced with sheep-killing mongrels. 
 Your foxes, famed for swiftness, stoutness and craft, would 
 become mere sneaks — robbers of henroosts round the home- 
 steads — instead of bold outlyers in the gorses of the heaths. 
 Shall the breed of men, horses, hounds and foxes degenerate 
 in and about this famous vale ?" (" No !" from the company, 
 with uncommon vigor, Mr. Doublefee joining in as loud as any 
 one.) 
 
 " Very well, then, you will unite with me in the hope that 
 Tom Scarlet will speedily return," said Sir Jerry. 
 
 Mr. Doublefee had now turned his back on the doctor and 
 regarded Sir Jerry with a mixture of surprise and delight. It 
 sprang from his admiration at the art of Sir Jerry in so pre- 
 senting the case to the jury, as Mr. Doublefee said to himself, 
 as to make Scarlet, fox-hunting, and the preservation of the 
 superior breeds of men, horses, hounds and foxes seem all one. 
 Perhaps the worthy baronet scarcely knew himself how^ well 
 he had done this ; but Mr. Doublefee, accustomed to listen to 
 barristers of much art and eloquence, upon the circuit, knew 
 it very well, and appreciated it. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 311 
 
 Sir Jerry continued : " I hope, then, that Tom Scarlet will 
 soon come back. Instead of his permanent absence being a 
 good thing for our neighborhood, it would be a very bad thing 
 — great misfortune. His absence, so far, we have been able to 
 bear ; but if he is away much longer I do not know what the 
 consequences may be. Gentlemen, what are the facts ? You 
 know, that to maintain the reputation and exalt the honor of 
 our hunt, I made a steeple-chase match for a thousand guineas 
 a side." 
 
 The Major. — " So he did, with the Juke of Jumpover. I 
 was at the making of it, and it was a good thing to do." 
 
 Sir Jerry continued : " The conditions are, five miles through 
 the Vale, gentlemen riders, horses that were hunted in the 
 Midlands or the Vale of White Horse last year, weights ten 
 stone ten. 'Tis to come off in March. Now, how stands this 
 matter? At every meet in Northamptonshire, Leicestershire, 
 and Warwickshire they lay odds on the Duke, when the real 
 truth is, that my horse couldn't lose it if Tom Scarlet was here 
 to ride him." 
 
 Tlie Major. — " Be me soul 'tis truth, every word Sir Jerry 
 says, and if the young man is dead or does not come, I am in 
 for a hundred myself." 
 
 " Sir," said Mr. Southdown, with much volume and emphasis 
 of voice, " the young man is not dead. He's alive and well. 
 If you think he's dead, on account of what these here wandering 
 sailors said, about the fight and the Dutchman and the cala- 
 boose, you can do so. I shan't argey the p'int. It aint worth 
 while, because Tom's alive and welL You can't kill a man 
 by argeyment, leastways not till he comes to be tried for his 
 life." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Sir Jerry, " I propose health and pros- 
 perity to Tom Scarlet, and may he speedily return to this 
 country !" 
 
 The toast was drunk with a thundering hurrah. John 
 Bullfinch blew his nose very hard with a red silk handkerchief, 
 while Mr. Southdown, looking at his lawyer, said with great 
 deliberation, " Sir Jerry is " 
 
 " The man !" exclaimed Mr. Doublefee. « There is no doubt 
 about it, sir. His eloquence will do honor to the county in 
 Parliament, sir. At another time I will enlarge upon this. 
 I have now something to say to Doctor Dose." 
 
312 TEE WEITE EORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 In the great applause and satisfaction which had prevailed 
 at the end of Sir Jerry's speech the doctor would probably have 
 escaped further observation, if Mr. Doublefee had been willing 
 to let him alone. But he was not. He had determined to go 
 over to the other side, bag and baggage, and to signalize his 
 change of front forthwith. The learned gentleman, indeed, 
 resolved to act like the Bavarian artillery, who not only de- 
 serted Napoleon in the heat of a great and decisive battle, but 
 halted half way between his lines and those of the Allied Pow- 
 ers, unlimbered their guns, and delivered a destructive fire 
 into his shattered and wavering ranks. 
 
 " Now, sir," said Mr. Doublefee, with a truculent air, as he 
 rose and faced Doctor Dose, "look at me, sir, and at the — the 
 honorable court and intelligent jury, I was about to say, but 
 this shall be reserved for a future and more impressive occa- 
 sion, sir, and I will now say, the honorable chairman and 
 worthy company. What have you to say for yourself, sir ? 
 What excuse do you mean to offer ? What pretext will you 
 allege for the base, false and malicious attack you have made 
 upon the — the highly respectable and — and exemplary young 
 man, whose absence is so much to be deplored — Tom Scarlet ?" 
 
 If the floor beneath the doctor had opened and disclosed a 
 yawning pit, he could scarcely have been more astounded than 
 he was by Doublefee's defection and address. He looked at 
 his assailant with dumb amazement for a few moments, and 
 faltered out, " Me! why it was you, you know, who said that 
 Scarlet " 
 
 " Come, sir ! come, come, sir ! equivocation will not do ; pre- 
 varication will hardly serve your turn here, sir, and neither 
 will avail when the case comes on for trial in the Common 
 Pleas, or King's Bench, or at the assizes. As Sir Jerry Snaf- 
 fle so well observed in his forcible, eloquent and feeling speech, 
 the damages will be heavy — very heavy — when the action is 
 brought, and the case is tried by an enlightened jury who know 
 the value of an Englishman's character, sir. I shall no doubt 
 be attorney for the plaintiff', sir, and it will be my painful duty 
 to set forth in the brief I shall furnish, the express malice 
 which impelled your observations. You had better make a 
 clean breast of it, sir, and throw yourself upon the mercy of 
 the court — company, company, in order that Sir Jerry Snaffle, 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K. 313 
 
 and the other friends of Mr. Scarlet, may intercede with him, 
 on your behalf, when he returns !" 
 
 Mr. Doublefee would have gone on at great length, but Sir 
 Jerry and Major Fitzgerald interposed. The hilarity of the 
 eveniutr was resumed and continued to a late hour. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 The day is cold and dark and dreary, 
 It rains, and the wind is never weary.'' 
 
 IT was a dark, damp and dreary morning when the Eir- 
 mingham coach left the Saracen's Head, in the heart of 
 London, for its daily journey through the Midland counties to 
 the metropolis of the hardware manufacture and trade. The 
 passengers were few, and they seemed to be rather depressed 
 and disconsolate — an effect, perhaps, of the weather. Just 
 before the coach started two sailors came hastily up, with a 
 bag and a bundle. The shorter of the two, a broad-shoul- 
 dered, pock-marked man, rushed into the booking office and 
 then rushed out again, exclaiming, " Inside or outside?" "On 
 deck ! on deck ! even if they charge more for it," was the re- 
 ply of the other sailor. " We don't want to be stowed between 
 decks on this uncommon lovely moruiug." The speaker was 
 tall, graceful, and well-proportioned, without being stout. His 
 complexion was very dark, and his eyes w^ere black and bright. 
 His luggage consisted only of a bundle tied up in a silk hand- 
 kerchief. Yet he was well dressed. His monkey-jacket of 
 pilot cloth was new, and the suit of blue he wore underneath 
 was also new, and cut in the smartest and most natty nautical 
 style. Any sailor would have seen at a glance that this was a 
 man-of-war's man, though the landsmen would have perceived 
 no difference between him and a sailor just paid off from an 
 ludiaman at Blackwall. He wore a tarpaulin hat — that is, 
 one so-called, for there was no tarpaulin about it. The super- 
 structure was of the finest Bombay sinnet, covered with fine 
 silk, and painted a glossy black. He was an active man, for 
 with a mere touch of his fingers to the rail he vaulted to his 
 seat, the one beside the guard. Cox, the man of the race- 
 course, and of the fight at Baltimore, sat opposite. Before 
 
314 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 they had left the pavements of the metropolis and the suburbs 
 which lie beneath its vast smoky canopy, the rain began to fall 
 sluggishly ; and when they reached the open country to the 
 north and west, it had set in for a regular rainy day. Every- 
 thing appeared to be in soak. The earth, the air, the sky, 
 seemed to be saturated with the ooze of the English and St. 
 George's Channels, and that of the German Ocean. The 
 sailors sat with the collars of their nionkey-jackets up around 
 their ears, and said but little. Even the guard was taciturn. 
 Cox observed that the weather was not much like that in the 
 Gulf, and the other replied, or in the Bay of Bengal or the 
 Mediterranean. With this they relapsed into silence, and 
 smoked their short pipes and Cavendish tobacco incessantly. 
 Whenever the coach stopped to change horses, the sailors 
 called for brandy, and treated the coachman and guard. Be- 
 sides this, they had recourse, at intervals, to certain flat bottles 
 extracted from the pockets of their monkey-jackets. The bottle 
 of the man-of-war's man contained arrack ; from that of Cox 
 arose the rich flavor of fine old schnapps. Altogether it was 
 a dreary ride, like a watch on the Grand Banks, they said, 
 and when they descended from the Chiltern Hills into the 
 vales below% the weather got worse rather than better. At 
 Tring and at Aylesbury the rain was still falling fast, but it 
 had held up a little when they reached the vicinity of Woot- 
 ton and Ridingcumstoke. But the waters were out in the low^ 
 meadows, and the brooks ran swift and turbid, full to the 
 banks. In passing a heavy carrier's wagon, with its slow 
 strong team of gigantic cart horses, the coach was pulled ofi" 
 the hard road and almost upset into the ditch to the left. 
 
 " There," said the dark sailor, "a little more and he would 
 have brought her by the lee. I say, Cox, this is the place. I 
 know it is, though the country seems changed. The fields are 
 smaller, and the woods are not as big as the old woods were in 
 my time." 
 
 " A natural consequence of following the sea," replied Cox. 
 " When a man on the lookout, or what not, casts his eyes al- 
 most constantly over miles and miles of blue water, it improves 
 their range, and the big expanse of the ocean makes the old 
 things at home on the land appear to be very small. But, as 
 you say, here we be." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 315 
 
 Without more ado the meu dismounted at a cross roads, and 
 bade farewell to the coachman and guard. 
 
 " Now, Jim," said Cox, " you see there's a great advantage 
 iu getting down at a cross roads. If any inquisitive body tries 
 to find out which road you took, it's two to one he can't do it." 
 
 " Well, which are we going to take ?" 
 
 " Nar'a one," said Cox. " You give me that bag careful 
 after I get through this hedge. Then come on yourself." 
 
 Thereupon that worthy forced his way through the fence, 
 and having received his bag, struck across the sodden, soggy 
 field towards a smoke which arose from a clump of trees at a 
 distance. It was not from a gypsy camp, but from the chim- 
 ney of a hedge ale-house, one of those places in which the 
 landlord was, in the elegant and perspicuous language of the 
 Act of Parliament, " Licensed to sell ale and beer by retail, 
 and to be drunk on the premises." Just then, however, he 
 was not drunk on the premises, for the sailors found no one 
 present save the landlady, a comely woman, and four or five 
 shock-headed children. The sailors took seats on a bench near 
 the bright sea-coal fire, and called for ale. The landlady 
 quickly brought a foaming quart, which Cox warmed by 
 plunging a red-hot poker into it. Could the sailors have din- 
 ner? They could. Gammon of bacon and ducks' eggs fried. 
 Nothing better for dinner at a roadside house on a rainy day 
 in all the Midlands, unless, indeed, the landlady should happen 
 to have in her larder chops off" the loin of one of the great 
 breed of Cotswold and Lincoln sheep, for which the vales were 
 famous far and wide. The dinner was quickly and beautifully 
 cooked, and forthwith served with the large country loaf of 
 the neighborhood, and the fresh butter of the vale. Then the 
 sailors ate, and the conversation began. Where was the mis- 
 sus' man ? He had gone hunting afoot after the hounds the 
 day before, and had not returned. Did missus miss him ? In 
 one way she did, but in another it was a relief to have him out 
 of the way. Was there a gypsy camp in the neighborhood ? 
 There might be and there might not. Did the missus know 
 Rose Tanner ? She thought she did. Was Rose in the neigh- 
 borhood? The missus considered. She looked hard at Cox 
 and liarder at the other sailor. She couldn't exactly say, un- 
 less sh3 was sure that what she said would do Rose no harm. 
 
816 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " Harm !" said Cox ; " why, we be her best friends. This 
 mate o' mine here's her brother." 
 
 " Lord save us ! Be this Rose's brother ? I thought he was 
 jest like her. But which on 'em !" 
 
 " Why, the sailor man, to be sure — Jim Cooper, the young- 
 est of the brothers." 
 
 " I've always heard Rose speak of him as a boy, and this is 
 a proper grown man," said the landlady. 
 
 " Well, missus, I was a boy when I went aw^ay, and Rose 
 was but a gal. But boys and gals grow up, afloat or ashore. 
 It's eighteen years since I saw Rose, or she saw me. Where 
 is she? .and is she well?" 
 
 "She was never better. She's got twins, as like as two 
 peas, and she is in favor with the gentry, I hear. The shep- 
 herds and ploughmen who come here for their ale o' nights 
 say that Lord Doomsday gave her twenty guineas for the 
 twins on Christmas eve. Her husband, Jack Tanner, is off 
 after the hounds with my man. Rose's camp is t'other side 
 the woods, on the heath. It'll soon be dusk, and if you're 
 a-going there to-night, you had best be moving." 
 
 " Ay, ay, missus, I'm thankful for the news," said Cooper. 
 " We're going there, sure enough ; but we will have a pot and 
 a pipe before we start. I must consider things a minute. A 
 man's feelings ain't many fathom deep when the lead is really 
 hove for 'em. I say, Cox, you never mentioned them twins. 
 I could have bought something for them in Lunnon. I saw 
 a great many beautiful things for sale on Tower Hill." 
 
 *' All infernal trash. Just as counterfeit as the money the 
 coves make down here at Brummagem, and not half as useful. 
 You give Rose the money you want to spend upon her chil- 
 dren, and she will lay it out well." 
 
 " That she will," said the landlady. " Why, at the fairs 
 and races her gals wears gold necklaces, the envy of some of 
 the people of quality. Says I to a Jew peddler, says I, in 
 this very room, * Be them necklaces Rose Tanner's daaters 
 wears gold ?' ' Missus,' said he, ' they be, and fine gold at 
 that.' " 
 
 She forgot to say that he added, " As fine as dese chains and 
 earrino-s and brooches, vot I sells for half de walues." 
 
 After some further conversation the men left the house, re- 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 317 
 
 gained the road, and turned up a lane on the other side of it, 
 along which they strode in silence for a quarter of a mile. 
 Then a small field only intervened between them and the 
 boundaries of the great preserves. They looked through the 
 leafless hedge, and saw hundreds of hares and pheasants out 
 of the coverts upon the young wheat. As if fascinated by 
 the sight, the sailors stood and gazed. They then looked each 
 other in the face, and Cox said : 
 
 " Our nearest way is through this part of the woods. It's 
 half an hour, plain and rapid sailing, and then we shall strike 
 the heath just where we want to be to see the light of the 
 camp-fire." 
 
 " Ay, ay, I know," replied Cooper. " But this is just about 
 the place where they came down upon us that time, and we 
 three got fourteen years apiece." 
 
 " Yes, Jim, but the job had been put up beforehand, and 
 the keepers knew just where to look for you. From what 
 I've heard since, Tom of Lincoln whistled on the plan. He 
 turned against Jack Cotswold since, and cut and run along 
 with Jagger. He's still enough now\ A fellow settled his 
 hash at Orleans with five inches of steel. The place is here 
 as still and lonely as if foot had never trod it. Besides it's 
 nothing but trespass anyhow — simple trespass, and we won't 
 go round. Follow me !'^ 
 
 In another minute or two, they passed through the strag- 
 gling fence into the woods and walked rapidly forward. At 
 the edge of a sort of open glade Cox paused, and placed his 
 bag upon the moss at the foot of a large and very old oak 
 tree. 
 
 "Jim," said he, in a whisper, pointing to a tall larch which 
 grew in the glade, " look up there !" 
 
 "I see 'em," said Cooper, "and it's very tempting; still, 
 it's fourteen years if they grab us." 
 
 " Not at all. It's only three or six months in the daytime, 
 and nobody can prove that it's night yet. Besides, there's 
 nobody here to grab us. We shall be upon the heath before 
 old Moleskin gets anywhere near here, and I'll have a brace 
 if I die for it." 
 
 AVith this he drew the stock and short barrels of a handy 
 little gun from among the clothes and contents of his dunnage 
 bag, and quickly fitted the barrels. 
 
318 TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " Very well, fire away, Flanigan !" said the gypsy, with all 
 his ancient ardor for the old methods revived in full and over- 
 powering force. 
 
 Bang ! bang ! went the gun, and down came two pheasants 
 from their roost on the horizontal branches of the larch, while 
 the others went whirring away among the tree-tops. The gun 
 and the game were hastily placed in the bag, and the men, 
 stooping low and walking rapidly, with caution approached 
 the outside of the wood. They were about to congratulate 
 each other on their success, when from the thick fern and briars 
 of a swale up jumped two men with a big mastiff dog and col- 
 lared them. 
 
 " Mind," said Cox, as Moleskin tightened his grip upon the 
 collar of his jacket, " we offer no resistance. We're merely 
 travellers that have lost our way, and it's nothing more than 
 trespass, if it's that." 
 
 " That'll do, Cox," said Moleskin, at the voice. " Where's 
 your gun ? And where's yours, young fellow ?" 
 
 "Mine's in this bag," replied Cox, " and unloaded, which is 
 perhaps lucky for somebody. This man never had one, and 
 he is, I may say, a stranger to me. Never met before yester- 
 day." 
 
 " We shall see," said the keeper. <' What the d — 1 brings 
 you sailors here anyhow ?" 
 
 " I think it was the d — 1," said Cooper, " for we had no use 
 for the birds, and if they had not come in our way we should 
 have been out of this before now." 
 
 The keeper looked closely at him, but the light was now 
 very dim, and the gypsy's collar was up. " Men," said Mole- 
 skin, " I never was a hard man, though I have always done 
 my duty. Will you go peaceably and quietly to my lodge and 
 stay there until I see what is to be done ?" 
 
 " We will !" said Cooper. 
 
 " Then I can tell you that you'll be none the worse ofi* for 
 it. Come on !" 
 
 The keeper led the way. The sailors followed, and the un- 
 der-keeper brought up the rear with the mastiff. It was a long 
 walk, and thick darkness fell upon the woods before the lodge 
 was reached. A fire was burning on the hearth, and Moleskin 
 produced a lamp and stooped to light it. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 319 
 
 " I say, keeper," cried Cox, "it wanted just about five min- 
 utes of sundown when that gun went off. I want that under- 
 stood." 
 
 " Five minutes of sundown ! Why the sun had set an hour, 
 as the almanac and my watch will prove." 
 
 " No they won't. Your watch is always fast, and in respect 
 to sunset you are always wrong. You don't allow for his de- 
 clination. No landsman ever does." 
 
 " What does it matter ?" said the gypsy, sharply. 
 
 The keeper had lit the lamp, and turning to look at him, 
 he started with surprise. The man had thrown off his heavy 
 jacket, and stood in the full light. There were the fine straight 
 figure, the nut-brown face, with the red tinge of excitement on 
 the cheeks, the very features, the glowing eyes, and the earrings 
 of gold, so that had it not been for the close-cropped hair and 
 the hard hands, Moleskin would have sworn that Rose Tanner 
 stood before him disguised as a man. 
 
 " Now, I'm sorry for this," said the keeper. " Which is it, 
 Tom or Elijah?" 
 
 " Neither ; it's me — the young 'un — Jim the sailor." 
 
 " Ah, it was you that fetched me the clout with the butt 
 of the gun after the others had mainly given up, when I was 
 under-keeper." 
 
 "Well the jury said so, and there was an end. But this 
 was a long while ago. Master Moleskin, and I've never been 
 in these parts since. As Cox and I have run into shoal water 
 without meaning it, what's to be done? He tells the truth 
 when he says that we met for the first time yesterday morning." 
 
 " I must consider. Bill, I must consider !" said Moleskin 
 to his man. " Go you the rounds to-night, and in the morning 
 tell Parkins to come here. Don't you sailor chaps be two 
 fools, and make bad worse by trying to get away. I have 
 your words, I suppose ?" 
 
 " You have, honor bright !" 
 
 " Well, then, sit down. We'll smoke a pipe and drink a 
 glass, and I'll consider." 
 
 The keeper considered for some time — so long, indeed, that 
 he replenished his pipe and refilled the glasses. Then, looking 
 at the fire with the air of a man in a brown study, he solilo- 
 quized as follows, with intervals of silence between the sen- 
 tences : 
 
820 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K 
 
 " A town magistrate wun't understand the true ins and outs 
 and merits of this case. Sir Jerry SuafHe w ill." (Cox nudged 
 Cooper with his elbow.) " My duty is to deliver these men to 
 the constable, and I must do it. That's plain enough to the 
 man-of-war's man. It rests with the constable to take his men 
 before any magistrate in the neighborhood he pleases. He's 
 fond of good ale, the constable is. Sir Jerry brews the best 
 in the county, and the tap at the Hall is pretty much always 
 a-ruuning." (Cooper nudged Cox.) " There will be a matter 
 of an hour or two in the morning before I can go with the 
 constable anywhere. During that time he'll naturally want a 
 glass or two. The constable likes gin as well as ale." 
 
 " What does he say to rum ? I've got in the dunnage bag 
 some as fine as ever left Port Koyal Bay," said Cox. 
 
 " The constable is very fond of rum and milk in the morning. 
 We shall have milk brought here about daylight. Sir Jerry 
 may not be at home when we reach the Hall. It's a hunting 
 morning, and I think he'll be gone when we get there." 
 (Cooper and Cox looked blank.) " But her ladyship will be. 
 As an Adnnral's daughter, when informed by the constable 
 that he has two sailors there for a trifling offence, her ladyship 
 may wish to speak to the sailors. If them sailors make a good 
 impression on her, the lady may ask a favor or two in their 
 behalf I've known her ladyship to ask favors that wasn't 
 refused. Still I, Moleskin, keeper to the Marquis, must do 
 my duty." 
 
 " Certainly ! * England expects every man to do his duty,' 
 and in you and me she won't be disappointed," said Cooper, 
 with much vivacity. " I will say that you'll be the means of 
 saving one sailor to the King, and perhaps not the worst in 
 his majesty's fleet." 
 
 " The constable," said Moleskin, coolly and dryly, " is a 
 great man for king and constitution, likewise the church. The 
 man-of-war's man is, of course, all right. If Cox has picked 
 up any revolutionary, radical notions, he'd better keep them 
 to himself." 
 
 *' Me revolutionary ! Me radical !" said Cox. " Why, 
 d — n it. Moleskin, I've fought on the Tory side at every 
 election there's been for fourteen or fifteen years, when I was 
 ashore." 
 
THE WHITE HOESE OF WOOTTON, 321 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 -Be not afear'd; the isle is full of noises. 
 
 Sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not. 
 Sometime^ a thousand twanging instruments 
 Will hum about mine ears ; and sometimes voices 
 That, if I then had waked after long sleep, 
 Will make me sleep again." 
 
 ^HE winter season was passing rapidly away. The days 
 -*- grew longer and the gales grew stronger, for the stormy 
 time of February was come. The sun was seldom seen except 
 for a minute or two, when it shone from among dark, sweep- 
 ing clouds, like the face of a beauty beaming for a brief space 
 between jealous curtains. But for all that, the birds were 
 already brisk and busy. The rooks cawed loudly and inces- 
 santly in the upper branches of the tall elms, and seemed to 
 hold counsel and debate over the ways and means of repair- 
 ing or rebuilding the last year's nests. The sparrows flew 
 rapidly about, and saucily chattered on the ricks and thatch 
 of the farm buildings, as if they owned them, or held them 
 under a long lease. The shepherds of the Vale prepared for 
 early lambing time, and now the ploughs of the husbandmen, 
 with their teams of powerful horses, heavy in the shoulders 
 and shaggy at the heels, were going early and late through 
 the rich loam of the fertile land. The first blossoms of the 
 young year, the snowdrops, might already be seen in the gar- 
 den of May Bullfinch, and she was often busy there. The 
 maiden was, however, restless and uneasy, and, as in the days 
 of the last summer and autumn, glancing early and late from 
 the garden gate. Hope deferred troubled and distressed her. 
 To-morrow and to-morrow ; but the truant never came. Tom 
 Scarlet was still absent. Nothing had been heard of him since 
 the roving sailors put afloat the rumor of his death. Mr. 
 Southdown and John Bullfinch still talked confidently of his 
 speedy return, but their anxious and impatient looks, when 
 together, seemed to give the lie to their sanguine expressions 
 before May. Straddles, however, was as positive now as he 
 had been on Christmas eve, that the missing man would reach 
 21 
 
322 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 the Vale before the day set for the great steeple-chase match 
 between horses to be named by the Duke and Sir Jerry Snaffle. 
 The box at the Grange was kept carefully done up. 
 
 It was morning, and having breakfasted, John Bullfinch 
 was preparing to mount and ride to the cover side. The 
 meet was to be at a noted and popular place, in a country of 
 grasslands and small coverts, every one of which usually held 
 a strong fox. Cowslip was at the door, arrayed in the new 
 saddle and bridle, the Christmas gift of his children to John 
 Bullfinch and his mare. Young Jack stood by the fire with 
 an air of vexation and discontent upon his features, arising 
 from the fact that his father had prohibited him from hunting 
 that day. " It is not the place for boys ; the field, when we 
 meet at Stratton, is too large for boys ; they are in the way," 
 said John, as May tied his cravat. The farmer then slipped 
 on his coat, kissed his daughter fondly, and held out his hand 
 to his son. Young Jack took it warmly, though there was 
 almost a tear of disappointment in his eye. But he suddenly 
 looked up, dropped his father's hand, and cried, " Here's Sir 
 Jerry, father ! May, here's Sir Jerry ! and I'm blest if he isn't 
 on The Bagman !" 
 
 " This is an honor, my dear," said John. " You Jack !" 
 
 But his son was already outside, and at the baronet's stirrup. 
 Dismounting, Sir Jerry Snafiftle walked into the house, and 
 taking the farmer aside, spoke to him in rapid, low tones, point- 
 ing through the window with his whip at the strong and beau- 
 tiful horse held by Young Jack. 
 
 " I don't know about it," said John, looking very serious. 
 " Work is well enough, and it is true that we can get no tidings 
 of Tom and the horse he bragged about ; but your weight. Sir 
 Jerry, will be too much. The pace is always good, and the 
 run commonly long, when we meet at Stratton and draw the 
 copses ; and you know. Sir Jerry, that you never pulled up in 
 your life while the fox was afoot and the hounds were run- 
 ning." 
 
 "I have another horse out," said the baronet, "I shall 
 change for him, and send The Bagman home at the first check. 
 Besides, I feel confident that Tom Scarlet will yet come to 
 time, and then he shall decide which horse to start. I thought 
 you would like to ride with me to the cover. On the road we 
 can talk." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 323 
 
 " Greatest of pleasure !" said John Bullfinch. " A great 
 honor, Sir Jerry, very great ! ^lay, my dear " 
 
 The farmer looked round for his daughter, but in vain. The 
 sudden appearance of Sir Jerry Snaffle at her father's house 
 had surprised her, and it flashed across her mind that he came 
 "svith some sad intelligence respecting her lover, and was then 
 communicating it to her father, in order that he might break 
 it to her. She ran to her sitting-room, and gave way to a 
 flood of tears. She wiped them hurriedly away as she heard 
 them coming along to^Yards her room, but the heavy tread of 
 the baronet and her father on the oak floor in their huntino-- 
 boots, sounded like a knell. As they entered she glanced 
 timidly at Sir Jerry, as she curtsied, but instead of seeing the 
 sad look of one who brought intelligence of a melancholy 
 calamity, she beheld the genial smile which so well became his 
 handsome face. A fine-looking man was Sir Jerry Snaffle, 
 especially when he was in the uniform of the hunt — the well- 
 fitting scarlet coat, the buff waistcoat, tight buckskin breeches, 
 white as milk, and faultless top-boots with silver spurs. And 
 as May blushed while he looked very kindly at her, and took 
 her hand, she thought he was a marvellous proper man. 
 
 " I bring," said he, " an invitation from Lady Snafile to you, 
 Miss May. Her ladyship would be much pleased to see you 
 at the Hall, and as there is no one there, I have no doubt you 
 will pass a pleasant day." 
 
 " Oh, Sir Jerry !" said May, " I am sure I shall be delighted. 
 It is alvvays a pleasure to be allowed to wait upon her lady- 
 ship, she is so kind." 
 
 " Yes, yes ! the truth is. Miss May, that Lady Snafile is fond 
 of you, which is nothing to wonder at," said he. "Therefore, 
 as soon as we leave you, which must be now, you had better 
 let your brother get your horse ready and ride. over. He can 
 go over in the afternoon and see you home, unless you remain 
 all night." 
 
 " Thank you, Sir Jerry. My brother shall come for me in 
 the afternoon, if you please, so that I may be home again as 
 soon as father is," she replied. 
 
 " Be it so, then. Good-morning. Her ladyship must teach 
 you to keep your spirits up until we get news of Tom Scarlet, 
 w^hich will no doubt be very soon. Come, John !" 
 
324 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 The farmer, intensely gratified, kissed his daughter again 
 and again, before he followed Sir Jerry. The latter, in a few 
 words, told the lad that his sister was to set out for the Hall 
 forthwith, and that he was to ride over and conduct her home 
 in the evening. Young Jack heard this with great satisfac- 
 tion. A visit to the Hall delighted him almost as much as a 
 day in the hunting-field, as he not only had gracious notice 
 and words of commendation from Lady Snaffle, but commonly 
 managed to secure an interview with one or two gray-headed 
 retainers of the family, whose large experience and long memo- 
 ries made them oracles in all matters of field sports. As Sir 
 Jerry and John Bullfinch mounted and rode off they were fol- 
 lowed by the admiring gaze of May Bullfinch, Young Jack, 
 and Tom, the man of the lantern on Christmas eve. 
 
 " There goes the best two men I ever held a stirrup for," 
 said the latter ; " the very best !" 
 
 " Yes, good men !" replied Young Jack. " But Tom Scarlet 
 for cross-country work, is, to my mind, the very best man we 
 have in these parts." 
 
 " Why, young master, I warn't thinking of him. We don't 
 have him in these parts now. He ain't come back, you see, 
 and has been gone a'most a year. I don't think he'll come 
 back ; leastways, not for a good while." 
 
 " What do you mean ?" said Young Jack. 
 
 " Well, a score of years or so," replied the man. " You see, 
 nothing has been heard of him. Some think he is dead. I 
 don't believe he is." 
 
 " What do you think then ?" 
 
 " Master Jack," replied the man, " it's my belief he's 'listed 
 for a soger ; and, by George, "what a sergeant in the dragoons 
 he'll make! I think I should 'list myself if his regiment was 
 to come along this way, with their helmets and sashes and long 
 swords." 
 
 " Go and saddle May's horse," said Young Jack. " She is 
 going to the Hall to visit Lady Snaffle. In the evening I shall 
 be there to fetch her home. Be lively, Tom." 
 
 By the time Tom had the horse at the door May Bullfinch 
 was dressed for her little journey. She was glad of the oppor- 
 tunity to reveal all her hopes and fears to Lady Snaffle. In- 
 deed, she had been urged to do so by one of her best friends ; 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K 325 
 
 for, seeing how she pined, a prey to anxiety and doubt, Mr. 
 Southdown had recommended frequent visits to his wife and 
 daughters, and had insisted that she should no longer neglect 
 to consult with the Admiral's daughter. So, with an admoni- 
 tion and a kiss to Jack, May started. 
 
 The day was dark and bleak, as she rode between the leaf- 
 less hedges of the lanes which were the shortest way to Sir 
 Jerry's house. At the top of the hill she paused and surveyed 
 the wide expanse of the dreary heath between her and the 
 woodlands which bounded Sir Jerry's park and shut in the 
 sheltered pastures of the vale. Far to the left, from among 
 clumps of gorse, in its winter suit, she saw the smoking rising 
 from a gypsy camp and drifting away before the wind. No 
 mark of settled habitation was to be seen upon the waste. 
 May had overheard what passed between her father's man and 
 her brother, and her mood was sad. The reins had fallen on 
 her horse's neck, and as he walked with measured tread, she 
 was absorbed in melancholy musing. She had almost forgotten 
 where she was, when a rich female voice aroused her attention, 
 and, as it w^ere, stopped her on the way. It appeared to come 
 from a thick clump of gorse, brambles and dried fern, an acre 
 or more in extent. Its owner, unseen, sang as follows : 
 
 ! why does the Rose of the hamlet stray 
 
 On the lonesome verge of the -windy heath ? 
 Neither fern leaf nor flower is seen by the way, 
 
 The sward is as pale as a last summer's wreath. 
 No note swells the brake where the wild thrush was loud, 
 
 No mirth-bearing carol comes up from the lea — 
 The lark does not sing high above the rain cloud, 
 
 No bird sways a bough of the naked ash tree. 
 The clustering gorse, that was once green and gold, 
 
 Is brown as the thatch on the oldest field barn; 
 No bleat from the flock in the snug haulmy fold. 
 
 No cry of the bittern is heard by the tarn. 
 The earth seemeth dumb, and the sky dark and drear, 
 
 No music is borne on the dull laden air ; 
 But the sad, gentle sigh, and the soft falling tear, 
 
 Lead the low, honey voice of the maiden in prayer. 
 
 There was a pause ; May Bullfinch thought the concealed 
 female had finished her song, but she continued with a deeper 
 voice and more animation : 
 
 A horseman armed, of the wild "West land, 
 
 Speeds fast as the drift of the screaming gale! 
 
 The brown chief will ride at his red right hand; 
 There are branches s^rewp o^ei hili and dale. 
 
326 TEE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 His pale brow is stern as the night's dun cloud, 
 
 His elf locks are flying, his raiment is dank ! 
 What gleams in his eye — fierce, bloodshot, and proud — 
 
 "While the rowels are red in the White Horse's flank ? 
 ** Three more shall be slain !" were the words he said, 
 
 As he shook to the sky his death-streaming gun, 
 "Ere the shaft that is loosened hath truthfully sped, 
 
 Four lives must perish to answer for one. 
 I swear by the thunder thou bearest like fate ! 
 
 By the li'^htning which bursts from thy muzzle so blue! 
 Four grim, guilty ghosts, through the cold cloudy gate 
 
 Shall follow the friend who was tender and true I" 
 
 0, Rose of the hamlet ! oh, which thinkest thou, 
 Were heard by the Father who loves us alway — 
 
 The wild, whirling words of the horseman's dark vow, 
 Or the prayers of the maiden who fainteth to-day ? 
 
 The voice died away in a long cadence. May Bullfinch 
 looked and listened, and had almost resolved to force her 
 horse through the gorse, when she saw a form in a dark cloak 
 pass swiftly from one clump to another, already far away in 
 the direction of the gypsy camp. Unsettled and agitated, 
 though scarcely alarmed, May touched her horse with the 
 whip. He struck into a steady hand-gallop, and in half an 
 hour she was at Sir Jerry Snaffle' s. Her welcome was a warm 
 one. After some refreshment, Lady Snaffle took her to the 
 library, and there, seated by the lady's side before the fire, 
 May opened her heart and told her tale, including the purport 
 of the song she had heard on the heath. The sympathy and 
 tact of Lady Snaffle soon restored May's self-possession, and 
 inspired her with more confidence than she had lately felt. 
 The former treated her as she might have treated a daughter 
 or a young sister. She remembered that May had no mother ; 
 and in close conversation they spent two hours, perhaps more, 
 very pleasantly. The lady's white, soft hand, with its dimple 
 and its jewelled rings, was upon May's shoulder, and she was 
 speaking to her in a coaxing tone, when there came a knock 
 at the door. Entering at the bidding of his mistress, the foot- 
 man announced that Parkins, the constable, was below, and 
 requested an interview with Lady Snaffle, upon very pressing 
 and particular business. Perhaps it was the knowledge that 
 this man had been somehow mixed up with Tom Scarlet's 
 affair, and the possibility that the roving sailors might have 
 returned and fallen into his charge, that induced the lady. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 327 
 
 after a moment's consideration, to grant his request, and 
 direct the footman to show him into the library in which they 
 were. 
 
 " The man," said she to May Bullfinch, " is a blockhead and 
 a bore, a pragmatical fellow ; but he is upheld in his office by 
 the magistracy, some of whom, my dear, are none too wise 
 themselves. I will learn what he wants, and speedily dismiss 
 him, after which we will resume our little conference." 
 
 Parkins entered rather boldly, but, as if suddenly checked, 
 he hesitated and made a low bow. He was surprised to see 
 May Bullfinch there, and was rather disconcerted by finding 
 Lady Snaffle's eye on him as soon as he was within the room. 
 His face was redder than usual. It might be the effect of the 
 wind and weather ; but his nose was of a lively purple, and 
 that might be the effect of his having taken what he called " a 
 little summut" several times in the course of the day. As his 
 eyes were bright but unsteady, and as there was a rapid wink- 
 ing of the lids nearly all the time, it was probably not the eflTect 
 of the weather which caused the change in his appearance. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Parkins, come forward ! Your business, sir ? 
 What do you want to state ?" said Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " Well, my lady !" replied he, with another profound bow and 
 a sort of jackdaw look of wisdom, " Sir Jerry being absent, I 
 made bold, knowing your ladyship's influence with the higher 
 authorities " 
 
 " jS"ever mind the preamble. To the point ! What is it 
 you want?" 
 
 " Your ladyship's influence and orders in a certain cause 
 wdiich is, I may say, before the authorities, and yet not before 
 'em — half and half, as a tapster might say." 
 
 "And what is it about, sir?" 
 
 "About two men that have been took up — took ui>ivrongfulf 
 my lady. Very few is ever so took up — none that I pulls 
 myself, although they all pretend to be. This here case, how- 
 ever, I have investigated, and the men is took up wrongful, 
 and ought to be discharged." 
 
 " And what of that, sir ! I cannot discharge them. I am 
 not in the commission of the peace," said Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " True, my lady ! I wish you was ; for since the Admiral 
 left, what with Sir Jerry being always so busy with his horses, 
 
328 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 and his hounds, and his matches, and Mr. Jericho being, as his 
 man says, engaged night and day Avith his history of the anti- 
 quaries of the primitive church, there is a kind of a vacancy in 
 the heads of the bench," replied jMr. Parkins. 
 
 " That will do, Parkins. You must take the men somewhere 
 else." 
 
 " They a' been took up wrongful," said Parkins. 
 
 " I cannot help it, sir." 
 
 " These men be from America, my lady." 
 
 " Ah !" said Lady Snaffle, while May Bullfinch started. 
 
 « And they be sailors, my lady," said Parkins, with much 
 emphasis. 
 
 " Sailors from America ! May, I declare I do not perceive 
 any harm in seeing them. Parkins, the case is altered," said 
 Lady Snaffle. "As the Admiral is not here, tell me all about 
 it. Come to the point and be brief." 
 
 " My lady, I will. It's a pleasure to speak to you in a cause, 
 as if your worship w'as on the bench in earnest. From infor- 
 mation I received this morning, I goes to Moleskin's lodge in 
 the woods this forenoon, and finds him and the prisoners, the 
 sailors from America, took up wrongful. Moleskin says the 
 men be poachers, and tells me to take 'em' and lock 'em up. 
 The sailors say they isn't, and tells me to take 'em before Sir 
 Jerry Snaffle. I tells the sailors that Sir Jerry Snaffle is ab- 
 sent. ' Then,' says the sailors, ' to prevent being clewed up 
 fore and aft, we claim the righl and privilege of being taken 
 before Sir Jerry Snaffle's wife. She's an Admiral's daughter 
 and knows the ropes." 
 
 " My dear," said Lady Snaffle, laughing, " it is just sailor- 
 like. Parkins, what is the case against them, as alleged by 
 Moleskin himself?" 
 
 " Moleskin, my lady, charges that the men were in the cover 
 for the purpose of poaching, but the sailors tell another story. 
 The sailors say, my lady, that coming to London in a ship 
 from New Orleans, they were intrusted with certain presents, 
 to wit, a gun and two bottles of rum, very old Jamaica, for 
 Gypsy Jack, a friend of theirs." 
 
 Parkins paused, and the ladies being now greatly interested 
 and all attention, waited for him to proceed. 
 
 " Finding himself in this neighborhood lateish in the evening, 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 399 
 
 and hearing that the gyps==y camp was about the middle of the 
 heath, the saih)r says — that is, the spokesman says — he took 
 the way through the woods by a short cut, and his gun going 
 ofi' by accident, Moleskin came up and nailed 'em." 
 
 "A trifling, absurd story, Parkins, with nothing to corrobo- 
 rate it," said Lady Snaffle. " I doubt whether these men are 
 sailors at all. Have they corkscrew curls all round their 
 heads?" 
 
 " No, my lady. Their heads are as smooth as bullets and 
 about as hard," said Parkins. 
 
 " May, my dear, all the fellows w ith curls, in sailor's clothes, 
 are impostors, and ought to be sent to the treadmill. My 
 father always told Sir Jerry so." 
 
 " And, my lady, there is something to corroborate what the 
 sailors say," remarked Mr. Parkins. 
 
 "And what may it be, sir?" 
 
 "The rum, my lady, and the gun," said Parkins. " There's 
 one bottle of the old Jamaica left. As one of the authorities, 
 I tested the spokesman's credibility with the other, and found 
 it sound and all right. Besides, he's intrusted with a token 
 and a message to Tom Scarlet, or, in his absence, to his next 
 friend. That token the sailor refuses to show ; that message 
 he declines to deliver to me and Moleskin." 
 
 " You did right to come here, Parkins. Do you think the 
 sailor will intrust the token and the message to me ?" said 
 Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " To you and the young lady. Miss May Bullfinch, now 
 present and occupyiug a seat on the bench, as I may say, he 
 will, because she is the next friend, by name mentioned and 
 set forth in the indictment as the party the token and message 
 are to be delivered to in Tom Scarlet's absence. He'll stand 
 and deliver, like a true man, will this sailor, if your ladyship 
 wall influence Moleskin to let him go away without further 
 trouble." 
 
 " I will see Moleskin. I will see the men. Are they here ?" 
 
 " They are, my lady. I left them in the hall, eating of 
 roast beef and mince-pie, drinking your ladyship's health in 
 ale, and gammoning the gals." 
 
 " Parkins, for shame !" 
 
 " Well, my lady telling of 'em long-winded stories about 
 pearls and mermaids, and what not." 
 
330 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " Go and fetch Moleskin and the sailors here," said Lady 
 Snaffle. Then she exclaimed to May, " now, my darling, I 
 feel that we shall hear the truth. The men are real sailors. 
 Their conduct in the hall among the servant maids proves it. 
 Now we shall learn the facts." 
 
 When the prisoners made their appearance, preceded by 
 Parkins and followed by the keeper, one of them pushed the 
 former aside without ceremony and walked up unabashed to 
 where Lady Snaffle was sitting. May Bullfinch immediately 
 recognised the sailor Cox and Lady Snaffle did so in a few 
 moments. His scarred face was flushed, and there was a 
 marry twinkle in his eye as he made his bow, and stood turn- 
 ing his glazed hat over in his sinewy hands. The fact was, 
 that he was about " half slewed," as he would have said him- 
 self, for besides drinking her ladyship's health often in strong 
 ale, he had, at the instance of the cook, fortified himself with 
 half a tumbler of cherry brandy. Moleskin had remon- 
 strated with the cook against the last, but she replied that 
 sailors must be treated well in that house. It was Lady Snaf- 
 fla's express desire. And besides, as she had often heard 
 Admiral Broadside say to his daughter, " they plough the 
 raging seas, while the gentlemen of England do live at home 
 at ease." 
 
 The demeanor of Cooper was different. He looked down 
 upon the carpet, stood at a respectful distance, and seemed 
 disinclined to face the Admiral's daughter. The man had 
 been in action and had always done good service in storm 
 and battle, but he was hardly equal to the present occasion. 
 Lady Snaffle addressed herself to Cox : 
 
 " Young man, I understand you are a sailor — a real sailor?" 
 
 " I am, my lady. If your ladyship's father, Admiral Broad- 
 side, was here at this minute, he would say so. Man before 
 the mast, and have been for years." 
 
 " You are recently from America, are you not ?" 
 
 "Just arrived from New Orleans, madam. Anchored in 
 the Downs last Sunday, and was paid off* in the West India 
 Docks on Tuesday. Discharge all ship-shape," replied Cox. 
 
 " My father was very fond of sailors," said Lady Snaffle, 
 looking steadily at Cox. 
 
 " So I've often heard, my lady. He took such care of good 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 331 
 
 ones — men able to do topmau's duty and be captains of the 
 guns — that -when they was once in the fleet, what with prize 
 money and strong grog and the bounty afloat, and the press 
 gang ashore, they could never get out of it again. However, 
 he was a fine old fighting captain, such as the sailors like." 
 
 The other sailor mumbled something, and Lady Snaffle 
 looked inquiringly at him. 
 
 " This is your shipmate?" she said to Cox. 
 
 " No, my lady, we only hauled alongside in Loudon. This 
 man, for all he looks spoony here in this presence, is a man-'o- 
 w^r's man, and was captain of the foretop in the Racehorse, 
 double-banked frigate, just paid off* at Spithead. He knows 
 your ladyship's father, the Admiral, well, he does." 
 
 " Bless me ! come forward, my man. So you know my dear 
 father well ?" 
 
 "Yes, my lady. AdmiraL Broadside, Rear- Admiral of the 
 Blue ; hope to see him Vice- Admiral of the Red before he dies. 
 So says every good man in the fleet," said Cooper. "He 
 ought to fly the red flag at the fore !" 
 
 " My dear May, this is the genuine sailor, the real man-'o- 
 war's man. You served under my father?" she added, to 
 Cooper. 
 
 " I'll tell her all," said he to Cox, stepping forward. " Ma- 
 dam, I was taken to sea out of jail by Admiral Broadside 
 eighteen years ago, being sentenced to transportation for four- 
 teen years. I've served the king and the country ever since, 
 and just came home to see my sister, Rose Tanner. My name 
 is James Cooper." 
 
 " I remember, there were three brothers. Cooper, wait until 
 I have heard this man. What is your name ?" continued Lady 
 Snaffle to the other. 
 
 " Harry Cox, my lady. Born at Oxford, and was one of 
 the fancy before I went afloat," he replied. 
 
 " The fancy ! what may that be ?" 
 
 " The ring, my lady. The lads as follows prize-fighting as 
 a profession. Have given it up now, and never fight except 
 somebody wants a licking uncommon bad." 
 
 " You are charged with having been in the preserves for 
 the purpose of poaching. Parkins thinks it is a mistake." 
 
 " Parkins is right, Lady Snaffle. It is a mistake on the 
 part of the keeper, Mr. Moleskin here." 
 
332 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " Moleskiu," said Lady Snaffle, " ^Yhat do you say to this? 
 The sailors allege that they entered the preserves merely to 
 make a short cut. I believe it is often done." 
 
 " A good deal too often, my lady," replied Moleskin. " As 
 to this man Cox, he had a gun." 
 
 " A present to Gypsy Jack from America," said Cox. 
 
 « He is a sailor. Moleskin, and I do not see how a sailor can 
 be a poacher," said Lady Snaffle. 
 
 "Pheasants on him, my lady," replied Moleskin, without 
 any change of feature. " As for the other, I believe Cox led 
 him into it. Cox had the gun and shot the pheasants." 
 
 " Only two old cocks," said the sailor to Moleskin, in a 
 surly, reproachful sort of tone. Then turning to Lady Snaffle 
 again he said, " My lady, I know you are a sailor's friend, and 
 I'll tell you all about it — from end to end, right off the reel, 
 and never a kink. I was in the preserve just about sundown 
 four bells in the dog-watch. Your ladyship knows what time 
 that is, though the keeper and the constable are so ignorant 
 that they don't. I had a gun, but it was a present sent to 
 Gypsy jack by a planter of the Arkansas bottoms named 
 Langlois. I had two old cock pheasants, and they are the 
 rocks ahead. Cock pheasants do more harm than good in 
 the spring of the year, there being too many of them. But 
 we'll slip that, and bear away. This is the real truth — born 
 in these parts, and being fond of all sorts of sport, when I 
 made out those pheasants, perched in a larch tree, I was bound 
 to try the gun. My lady, I couldn't help it ! I may be sent 
 to jail, but I can do better service out of jail ; and as you are 
 an Admiral's daughter, I hope you'll tell Moleskin to let me 
 clear for the salt water again. Cooper had nothing to do 
 ■with it." 
 
 " Just so ! being took up wrongful," said Parkins. 
 
 Lady Snaffle held a short conference with Moleskin, and the 
 latter departed, taking Parkins with him, much against that 
 dignitary's will. When they were gone, Lady Snaffle said, " I 
 have procured your release. I am now about to request some- 
 thing in return of you. Cox— merely information. I am in- 
 formed by this young lady— that is, by her father, through 
 her — that you have some knowledge of Tom Scarlet." 
 
 " I have, my lady. I sailed in the same vessel that took 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 333 
 
 him out to America — clipper brig, belonging to Baltimore, 
 where he aud I parted, after I had introduced him to a good 
 mau." 
 
 " Who was that man ?" 
 
 " A gentleman by the name of Sassafras — Western man." 
 
 "An Indian?" said Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " Thundering guns, my lady, no ! As white as you — no, 
 not as white as you, but as white as I be !" 
 
 " Have you seen Tom Scarlet since you introduced him to 
 the man you mentioned — Sassy " 
 
 " Sassafras, my lady. No, I have not. My chief business 
 here was to see him. I hear he has not yet returned from the 
 other side. In that case I was to deliver what I brought to 
 Miss May Bullfinch, and I shall be glad to do it in your lady- 
 ship's presence." 
 
 With this the sailor placed hisiiat on the floor, and, drawing 
 a knife from some part of his clothing, he ripped open the in- 
 side of his monkey-jacket and produced a small ornament, 
 the head of a red horse, curiously carved out of a piece of 
 stone. He held it up before the ladies on the palm of his 
 hand, saying : 
 
 " As Tom Scarlet is not here yet, Miss Bullfinch is to take 
 charge of this, and deliver it to him when he comes." 
 
 May whispered to Lady Snaffle, and the latter said : 
 
 " Tliere was a rumor here that Mr. Scarlet was killed." 
 
 " So there was at Orleans, but I don't believe it. In fiict, I 
 know it wasn't true. He's all right, and will very soon be 
 alongside of this young lady," said t\\Q sailor. 
 
 " Who sent the ornament you hold in your hand ?" 
 
 " A friend of Tom Scarlet's, my lady. Cinnamon, by name, 
 usually," replied Cox. 
 
 " Usually ! Do you mean to say that he goes by more than 
 one name ? Who and what is he ?" 
 
 " He's a Western man — large landowner, my lady. Hun- 
 dreds of thousands of acres. Named after one of their produc- 
 tions." 
 
 " Does his land grow spice, then ?" 
 
 *• Why, no, my lady ! I believe it chiefly produces bears 
 and buffaloes ; but I have never been on it." 
 
 "Cox," said Lady Snaffle, sharply, "I believe you are 
 speaking of an Indian — a wild Indian !" 
 
334 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " I am, my lady. A chief — a very great chief ! Friend of 
 Sassafras and friend of Tom Scarlet. Called Cinnamon be- 
 cause when he was a papoose he had for his playfellow a cin- 
 namon bear. He sent the totem." 
 
 " He sent the totem !" 
 
 " Yes, my lady. The totem of his tribe, the Cheyennes, 
 for Tom Scarlet, signifying that Tom is adopted into his tribe, 
 and that if any man injures him Cinnamon will have that 
 man's scalp or know the reason why. It would have been 
 given to Mr. Scarlet before he left the West, but certain cere- 
 monies had to be performed, and it was sent afterwards to New 
 Orleans, to me, through the agent of Langlois, who was in 
 that country with Tom." 
 
 " We are very anxious about Mr. Scarlet. Do you know 
 nothing more. Cox ?" said Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " I know he's all right, my lady, for two reasons. One is 
 that Sassafras had him in tow, and wouldn't let him come to 
 harm. He'd take desperate chances sooner than see him in- 
 jured. The other is, that if Tom had been clewed up, killed 
 out there, instead of sending the Cheyenne totem to Tom as a 
 live man, and one of his own tribe. Cinnamon would have sent 
 the scalps of them as done it, as a satisfaction to this young 
 lady and his other friends about here. He was no more killed 
 in that country than I was, who was never there, though there 
 was a scrimmage and one or two were killed. He has been 
 detained by head winds. It hung in the east for a fortnight, 
 as it often does about the chops of the Channel in the spring. 
 It is now west-nor'west, and you may look for him every tide." 
 
 " We thank you. Cox," said Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " It's all right, my lady— all right. Miss Bullfinch ! With 
 this wind upon the larboard quarter they would make up the 
 leeway very fast, and Mr. Scarlet will soon be a-riding all 
 snug in harbor at your apron-string!" 
 
 " My dear," said Lady Snaffle to the blushing May, " the 
 man is a sailor. What he says is just like a sailor. It was 
 said, also, that Miriam Cotswold was carried off* by Indians." 
 
 " My lady. Cooper can contradict that. Speak up, Jim," 
 said Cox. 
 
 " If your ladyship pleases, I can contradict that. In coming 
 from the Islands to Halifax we looked into New York bay for 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 335 
 
 two or three days. While the frigate lay off the Battery she 
 was boarded by a young woman and a man, and the word was 
 passed for me. The young woman said she was my cousin, 
 Miriam Cotswold." 
 
 '•'And the man — was he of florid complexion, with auburn 
 "whiskers ?" 
 
 " No, madam. He was nearly as dark as I am, and his face 
 was as smooth as mine. It was the man Cox named, vSassafras. 
 They said they were bound to England. And they ought to 
 have been in port before now." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 "He looked over fell, and he looked over flat, 
 But nothing, I wist, he saw, 
 Save a pyot on a turret that sat 
 Beside a corby craw. 
 
 " The page he looked at the skrieh of day. 
 But nothing, I wist, he saw, 
 'Till a horseman gray in the royal array, 
 Rode down the hazel shaw." 
 
 YOUNG BULLFINCH had taken dinner and dressed him- 
 self in his best suit rather earlier than was necessary, in 
 order thart he might set out on his ride to the Hall as soon as he 
 could reasonably convince himself that he would not arrive 
 before Lady Snaffle and his sister would expect him. " It is 
 rather too soon to start, but I can go a foot-pace," said he, as 
 he surveyed himself with some satisfaction in the pier-glass 
 over the mantlepiece in the parlor. There was a titter at the 
 door, and Jack saw, with a blush, that the housemaid was 
 looking at him. He wheeled quickly around and faced the 
 girl. 
 
 " Well, you be, and everybody knows it," said she, with a 
 laugh. 
 
 " Be what ?" said Jack sharply. 
 
 " AVhy, handsome, that you be ! for a boy," she replied. 
 " But, Master Jack, Tom told me to tell you that the gypsy, 
 Rose, is coming along the lea at a great pace, and he thinks 
 she wants to see you." 
 
336 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 He met the gypsy in the orchard. She was evidently excited 
 and out of breath, but declining to go into the house, she laid 
 her hand on his arm and said : 
 
 " Now, Young Squire, now's the time ! mount and ride fit to 
 split the wind! He's come and the others can't be far off!" 
 
 "Your brother is come, Rose! Well, I'm sure I'm very 
 glad ; but you see I must go over to Sir Jerry Snaffle's first. 
 I'm pledged to it." 
 
 "Ah, I knew that would be the way you would keep your 
 word. But never mind ; he's there himself before this time, 
 so order out your horse, and don't spare him." 
 
 " Do you mean that your brother is at the Hall, Rose ?" 
 
 " I do, and in custody. He fell in with that roving rascal 
 Cox in London, and when they came down on the coach yes- 
 terday that fellow allured him into the covers at nightfall, and 
 there they are, pulled for poaching by Moleskin and Parkins. 
 I wish that Cox had been drowned before he led my Jim into 
 this, but no such luck — ' born to be hanged,' you know, as the 
 old saying goes. Order out your horse. You can get Jim off. 
 I know you can, you and your sister May. If you don't get 
 him off " 
 
 "Oh, I'll get him off if I can. Rose. And I think I can, 
 but not by riding straight to the Hall. Tom, saddle Young 
 Cowslip," he shouted, over his shoulder. " Rose, the hounds 
 threw off at Strattou. I'll bet a guinea that I can hit the line 
 of the hunt somewhere or another, and come up with Lord 
 Doomsday." 
 
 " And what the d — 1 good will that do?" said Rose. 
 
 " Why, his influence is immense, and he'll do anything for 
 me," said Jack, stoutly. 
 
 " That for his influence !" said the gypsy, snapping her fin- 
 ger and thumb. "You boys and men are so stupid. Don't 
 you see that Lady Snaffle has got more influence with Sir 
 Jerry, and good reason, when she chooses to use it, than all the 
 lords in England. Sir Jerry will hold the examination when 
 he reaches home from his hunting. Get there first — I say, get 
 there first ! And let Lady Snaffle know the rights of it before 
 the baronet arrives. Mind and let her know that Jim's a 
 great favorite with the Admiral — served under him, and all 
 that. That'll go a great way." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX. 337 
 
 " By George, Rose, I believe you are right !" 
 
 " I know I am," said the gypsy. " Besides, at the Hall you 
 can see Moleskin. He thinks more of your father and of May 
 and you than of all the other folks in Ridingcumstoke. If his 
 evidence is light, they'll get oil' with a fine, provided the lady 
 favors 'em and there's been a good run to-day 
 
 " Oh, there's always a good run when they meet at Stratton, 
 Rose. But what has that to do with it ?" 
 
 " Do with it ! why, if there's been no run, Sir Jerry will be 
 in one of his tempers, and Lady Snaffle will not interfere until 
 Jim is committed. Then it will be too late." 
 
 " Yes, that's true ; but there has been a good run. I'll lay 
 anybody ten to one on it," said the lad. " Why, Rose, the 
 men who stopped the earths in the copses and gorses about 
 there last night passed here at daylight. I gave them a pint 
 apiece, and asked them what the prospect was for foxes, and 
 they said : ' Young master, the covers be full on 'em.' So you 
 see that's all right. Now, here's my mare. I suppose you are 
 for the Hall, too?" 
 
 " No, I can't go — not even to see Jim. I've promised to 
 meet a man at a certain place — the Grange — and I must keep 
 the tryst. I must keep it." 
 
 " Who is the man ?" said Young Jack. 
 
 " One you never saw, but you will soon. Mount and ride ! 
 Let nothing stop you !" 
 
 His hand was twined in the mane of the mare, but he 
 paused and said : " Rose, how about the twins, while you're 
 going here and there ?" 
 
 " They're all right. My eldest gal watches 'em, and Jenny 
 gives 'em suck. You'll see me again to-morrow," said the 
 gypsy, waving her hand and walking away with long strides. 
 
 " She's a rum 'un — a reg'lar rum 'un, she is !" said Tom, as 
 his young master mounted ; " and if I was you I'd keep a 
 good lookout, coming home with Miss May after dusk." 
 
 " Oh, you don't understand Rose. I do," replied the lad, as 
 he rode through the orchard gate into an adjoining field. 
 
 The weather was still gloomy. A thin rain, cold and prick- 
 ing to the skin, was falling slantwise from the low-flying drift, 
 when young Bullfinch rode through the lanes and over that 
 portion of the heath which his sister had passed earlier in the 
 22 
 
3o8 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 day. The lad had a horseman's coat on over his best clothes, 
 and cared nothing for rain or wind. He galloped on, some- 
 times whistling cheerily, and sometimes humming a verse of 
 some ditty popular in the country side, and celebrating fox- 
 hunting. Jack had nearly crossed the heath and was nearing 
 the woodland which lay beyond and bounded it, when he saw 
 a dark form moving stealthily among the bushes to his left. 
 It was that of a person flitting from one bunch of gorse to 
 another, and apparently trying to elude his observation. The 
 lad was bold and fearless, but he knew that suspicious char- 
 acters sometimes lurked about the neighborhood of the heath, 
 and at first he thought of riding on. He had, however, a 
 desire to know who it could be that was endeavoring to steal 
 away like a fox from cover, and determined to give pursuit. 
 He felt certain that the person was no gypsy, for he was known 
 to all the band, and there was no reason why any of them 
 should avoid him. Whoever it was, he now lost sight of the 
 figure for a moment, in a hollow where the gorse was thick 
 and high, but saw it make a dash up the slope beyond, and 
 quicken the pace. Pulling out of the road, he put the mare 
 to a smart gallop over the wet sod and through the gorse. 
 The other party seemed resolved to foil the chase, and turning 
 round with a quick double, made for the woodland with swift, 
 sure foot. The fence was at no great distance, and before the 
 youth could come up the pursued reached it, climbed a gate, 
 and disappeared on the other side. The lad saw by the long 
 garments, as the person mounted the gate, that it was a woman. 
 «' Well !" said Young Jack, " I will see who this quean is, now." 
 He touched Young Cowslip with the spur, and riding at the 
 hedge, went crashing through the top of it into the cover. 
 The woman, blown by her sharp run, and believing that he 
 would not follow, had stopped to draw breath near the edge 
 of the wood, and stood leaning against an ash-tree, as Jack 
 and the mare came driving through the fence. Utteriug an 
 exclamation, she darted away again at speed, and plunged like 
 a deer into the underbrush. But she was at a disadvantage, 
 for the ground was boggy, and she was compelled to take to 
 the open ride again. The lad soon came up with her, and 
 flourishing his whip, he cried, " Stop ! you can't get away from 
 me! Who is it?" 
 
TEE WEITE EOESE OF WOOTTOK 339 
 
 "Lord, Master Bullfinch! who should it be?" said the 
 "woman, stopping and turning about. 
 
 " Miriam ! heart alive ! Is this you ? Why did you run 
 away from me f You surely knew me !" 
 
 " Knew you ? yes. Run away ! good lack ! "What for, 
 indeed !" said she, panting. " I knew you were going for your 
 sister ; and as the night will grow on apace, by and by, you 
 have no time to lose. Ride on, Master Bullfinch. Good-day.'' 
 
 " Is this all ?" said Young Jack, looking at her with some 
 surprise. " Come, we must have a little speech together." 
 
 There was a change in the appearance of the gypsy since 
 he saw her last. She looked older — less the girl, and more 
 the young woman ; less wild and frolicsome, though there was 
 a smile upon her lip and a merry twinkle in her bright black 
 eye. A warm flush, from her recent rapid running, shone in 
 her nut-brown cheek. She was not dressed as the gypsy women 
 and girls commonly are, but wore a gown and cloak of dark 
 merino, while a hood of velvet, trimmed with fur, covered her 
 glossy black hair. She stood before the lad as if undecided 
 what to say or do ; seemed anxious to be rid of him, and yet 
 could scarcely control an inclination to laugh. 
 
 " And so you're back among us again, Miriam," said Young 
 Jack. " I'm glad to see you — very glad !" 
 
 " Thank you ! I thought you would be. But time wears. 
 Master Bullfinch, and you had better ride on. You can talk 
 to me another time, you know." 
 
 " Ay, but I want you to talk to me now. You have been 
 away nearly a year. Tom Scarlet has been gone as long, and 
 I want to hear all about it. He has been reported dead, and 
 Lady Snafile and May will want to know what you say to 
 that." 
 
 " Master Bullfinch," said the gypsy, with her dark, bright 
 eye full and intent upon him, " I think you had better not 
 mention to them that you have seen me. My presence here 
 is not known to any one except our people and one or two 
 others, and there are good reasons why it should not be for a 
 few days. So oblige me, and say nothing about it." 
 
 " Miriam," replied the boy, " it can't be done. There's too 
 much mystery going on — too much in-and-cfut running. Tell 
 me where Tom Scarlet is. Is he come back too ? . That's the 
 question," 
 
340 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " Bless us, Master Bullfinch ! you talk as if his coming and 
 going depended on me. You didn't expect me to bring him 
 back, did you?" 
 
 The gypsy moved tosvards the road, and Jack walked his 
 horse by her side. They approached the beaten way, and he 
 said, " Come, Miriam, no more of this winding about a hollow 
 bush, and crying a holloa -when there's neither fox nor har 
 What do you know about Tom Scarlet ?" 
 
 "I know he's a fine young man — worthy of your sister — and 
 that is a great deal to say," replied Miriam. 
 
 " Yes ; but where is he now, when he ought to be here ?" 
 
 " On his way home, no doubt. I hear he is expected every 
 day. You may tell your sister I said so, if you mention having 
 met with me at all, which you had better not do." 
 
 " I can't help mentioning that, lass. I wouldn't keep it 
 secret for anything. May's my sister, and Lady Snaffle always 
 behaves very handsomely to me." 
 
 " Ah !" replied the gypsy, " see what it is to have to do with 
 a boy instead of with men. I'll warrant, now, that if Sir Jerry 
 and your father had seen me here, and heard me say what I 
 have said to you, they wouldn't mention it to her ladyship and 
 your sister. But you want to be at the ladies' apron-strings, 
 telling them some nice gossip. Good-day, Master Bullfinch ; 
 ride on." 
 
 Young Jack was nettled at this, and not the less so as the 
 gypsy laughed at the angry expression of his face. " Very 
 well," said he ; " You want to put me off! I won't be put off. 
 You shall give me some news of Tom Scarlet before you are 
 out of my sight. I'll follow you till dark, and then again till 
 daylight, but what I'll have it. You shall see whether I can't 
 stay away from the ladies' apron-strings." 
 
 " Master Bullfinch," said she, " don't be so put out with an 
 old acquaintance because of a jest. One of the greatest pleas- 
 ures I looked for when I came back here was meeting you 
 again, and seeing your sister, May, well ar;d happy. At present 
 I cannot say more. Shake hands, aud ride on. I can stay 
 here no longer. I expect a man to pass, and he must not find 
 us here, holding conference in the shadow of the wood." 
 
 " Your uncle !" said Young Jack, extending his hand. " I 
 can make it all right with him in two minutes." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 341 
 
 « Kot my uncle," she replied, shaking his hand. " Another 
 man." 
 
 " What man ? Who is he ? Miriam let us have no more 
 mystery." 
 
 " Well, I can't give his hame. I promised not to give it 
 for a few days. He's a man from America." 
 
 " It's Tom' himself!" cried Young Jack. " Miriam, I know 
 it is." 
 
 " Master Jack, it is not," said she, earnestly. " 'Tis a man 
 you never saw in your life, for he never was in this country 
 ijefore. If you meet him on the road, as I think you will do, 
 you'll see a man different in looks and ways from folks about 
 here. Something like our people on the moors and heaths in 
 some points, but still no gypsy. A man rough and ready, but 
 as true as steel. You need not be afraid of him if he stops 
 you on the road." 
 
 " Me afraid ! I'll wait with you till he comes." 
 
 " No, no ! Hide on, and make speed. I'll see you again 
 ere long, and tell you more. Perhaps news of Tom Scarlet. 
 Touch spur. Young Jack, and away !" 
 
 " By George, Miriam, you speak like yourself again. And 
 you think Tom is all right?" 
 
 " Yes, I hope and believe he is," she replied, walking off a 
 few steps. 
 
 " One word more. How about Jagger ? Is he come back ?" 
 
 "Jagger! Oh, Master Bullfinch, he is dead ! He died as 
 the fool dieth. He was killed when Tom " 
 
 " When Tom what ? And who killed Jagger ?" 
 
 " A man in America. Good-by." 
 
 With this the girl drew her cloak about her, turned back, 
 and hurried away deeper into the wood. Young Jack looked 
 after her for a moment. He then gained the highway, and 
 rode on at a strong gallop. 
 
 He had not gone above half a mile when another horseman 
 approached at speed equal to his own. The man wore a blue 
 coat of pilot cloth, buttoned up to the chin. His face was 
 dark, his eye bright and keen as that of a hawk, and locks of 
 black hair appeared under the rim of his low-crowned glazed 
 hat. He sat his horse with the ease and power of one who had 
 been accustomed to riding from early youth. As they neared 
 
342 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 each other the man and the boy checked the speed of their 
 horses, and after a good look, pulled up together in the middle 
 of the road. 
 
 The man spoke first. His eye seemed to be all over the lad 
 and his horse in an instant, and he said, in a clear voice and 
 prompt manner : 
 
 " You seem to be in a hurry, j^oung gentleman. You ride 
 fast." 
 
 " No faster than you," replied the lad, with some undefina- 
 ble feeling of uneasiness at finding himself face to face in the 
 lonely road with this man. 
 
 " Well, considering that I hardly know my road, I was 
 going pretty fast, I allow," said the stranger. " But where 
 may you be going to at a gallop ? Anybody sick ?" 
 
 " No, sir, nobody sick. I am going to Sir Jerry Snaffle's," 
 replied the youth, with some assumption of dignity, and a 
 movement as if he could brook no more delay. 
 
 " Hold on ! I shan't detain you more than a minute. Sir 
 Jerry Snaffle! It seems to me that I have heard of him." 
 
 " I should think you have," said the youth, with a shade 
 of emphasis which the stranger marked, but did not notice in 
 reply. Indeed, he changed the topic, saying : 
 
 " That's a nice young mare you're on. What's her name ?" 
 
 " Cowslip," said Young Jack, somewhat surprised at the free 
 and easy way of the stranger, in thus putting to him the 
 question ; " Young Cowslip." 
 
 " O ! then old Cowslip's at home ? Dam of this mare, no 
 doubt?" 
 
 " No, sister of this mare, and not old, either. Neither is 
 she at home, for father has her out hunting." 
 
 " Ay, ay ! hold on a bit. I want you to tell me my road in 
 a minute." 
 
 With this the stranger produced a flint and a dangerous- 
 looking knife, and striking fire on some very combustible sub- 
 stance, lit a cigar. 
 
 "I reckon your name is Bullfinch, young sir?" 
 
 " That is my name," replied the youth. " What is yours?" 
 
 " Well, that is nothing to the purpose," said the stranger. 
 " You live in these parts, and your name is naturally of inter- 
 est to a stranger to these parts. I don't live here, and so my 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 343 
 
 name is nothiDg to you, don't you see ! Bullfinch is a good 
 name — a very good name. I hope your father and sister are 
 well. By the by, I suppose you left your sister at home ?" 
 
 " No, I didn't. She is at Sir Jerry Snaffle's. I am going 
 there to see her home, and must not delay any more." 
 
 " Hold on ! hold on another minute ! you have not told me 
 the road. No doubt you can show me which is the way to a 
 place called the Grange." 
 
 " The Grange ! why, that is Tom Scarlet's place." 
 
 " So I've heard ! What of it ?" said the stranger, coolly. 
 
 " He's ray friend ! My father's friend ! My sister's very 
 dear friend ! You bring news of him, I hope. You come from 
 America." 
 
 " I never told you so, my lad." 
 
 " No matter ! I know you do. Now tell me news — do tell 
 me good news of him," said Young Jack, earnestly. 
 
 "Good news! Well, I have heard that he may be here 
 soon. That is what they say. It may not be good news to 
 some. I've heard that there are people who do not like him 
 in these parts. What do you say to that ?" 
 
 " I say everybody likes him that is of any consideration. 
 You should hear my father relate what Sir Jerry said about 
 him at the hunt dinner, when it was reported that he had been 
 killed in America." 
 
 "Ah! they reported he was killed. Well, if he wasn't it 
 was a miracle, for he was shot in the head and went down into 
 the rapids of the Neosho. If he lived after that he's the only 
 man that ever did." 
 
 Young Jack's countenance fell. He looked at the stranger, 
 but there was no sign of emotion in the dark, strong-cut face 
 of the man who sat in the saddle and smoked the segar which 
 diffused a fragrance all around. 
 
 " It may be a mistake ! It may have been another man," 
 said Jack. 
 
 " Englishmen are not plenty out there in the Indian coun- 
 try," replied the stranger. 
 
 " It may have been another," said Jack. " There was one 
 Jagger. Do you remember such a person about thd-e ?" 
 
 " I ought to. I killed him," said the stranger with much 
 indifference, " but he was not the man who went down the 
 
344 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 rapids. That was Scarlet. After all, it is but a man gone, 
 and no doubt there are plenty better left about here." 
 
 " There are none — not one better — not one as good. Poor, 
 poor Tom ! Oh, what shall I say or do ?" cried the lad, with 
 a quivering lip and a very sad expression of face. 
 
 " Why, if I was you I would say nothing at present. Mind, 
 I don't aver that he is dead. He may be alive, and come for- 
 ward when least expected." 
 
 " Ah ! if he does everybody will be so rejoiced." 
 
 " Everybody ! why don't you know that the backers of the 
 Duke, in this great steeple-chase match I hear about, would as 
 soon see the devil as Tom Scarlet in the saddle." 
 
 " No !" replied Young Jack. " The Duke himself likes 
 Tom, and would sooner lose the match than be convinced of 
 his death." 
 
 " Very well ! I hope the Duke will lose it. I shall lay 
 against him if I happen to be there. Sir Jerry wil] have the 
 best horse and the best rider, and by all accounts he's the best 
 man of the two. AVhich is my road ?" 
 
 " Straight on till you come to the heath. You'll see the 
 glow of the fires at the gypsy camp to the right. The people 
 there will tell you the way from that point. You needn't be 
 afraid of the gypsies. You will not be, I think." 
 
 " I think not," said the stranger, with a smile. " You are 
 a likely lad ! Give my regards to your father, and my re- 
 spects, my very particular respects, to your sister. Good-by, 
 Master Bullfinch. I shall see you again." 
 
 "But I cannot tell my father and sister who you are. I 
 don't know your name," said Jack. 
 
 "True, I had forgotten that. You can say a man from 
 America. And you may add that, in spite of all that has 
 happened, Tom Scarlet may be all right, and turn up when 
 least expected. It's true he was shot, but I have been shot 
 three or four times myself, and here I am alive and merry. 
 He also went down the rapids, and it had such an ugly look, 
 that at one time I gave him up as gone, past all hope. But 
 there is a man out there, well known he is to me, who went 
 down through a canyon of the Colorado, and that's worse. So 
 he may be alive. There's always hope about a man thought 
 to be dead, until the body has been found. Good-by, Master 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 345 
 
 Bullfinch ! Good-by, Young Jack ! Take care of Young 
 Cowslip, Jack, and do all you can to cheer up your sister. 
 We shall soon meet again." • 
 
 With this the stranger struck his horse with the whip, and 
 dashed away. Young Jack looked after him until he dis- 
 appeared, and then said, " For a man who has killed another 
 or two, not in war time, and has been shot three or four times 
 himself, this is the coolest person I ever heard of. After all, 
 I have hopes of Tom. Miriam said this man was true as steel, 
 and there was something in his manner that meant more than 
 he said. I noticed how he looked up and smiled whenever he 
 mentioned May. It made his face look pleasant. He does 
 not seem to be a bad fellow. I'm glad I didn't mention Miriam 
 to him, for a glint came into his eye at times like the light 
 from that of a cat in the dark. There's no telling how he 
 would have taken it, if I had told him I chased and pounded 
 her. What will Lady Snaffle and INIay say to all this ?" 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 A SHARP gallop of twenty minutes brought young Bull- 
 finch to the Hall, where he proposed to see Moleskin 
 before he presented himself to Lady Snaffle. But before he 
 could make any inquiry as to the keeper and his prisoners, a 
 footman announced to him that Lady Snaffle wished to see 
 him in the library. Thither he went, and the lady of the 
 house, receiving him graciously, desired him to take a seat. 
 Young Jack would have postponed the interview^ for a short 
 time if he could have found a plausible excuse for doing so, 
 but none occurred to him at the moment, and Lady Snaffle 
 said : 
 
 " Master Bullfinch, we have had quite an adventure since 
 your sister's arrival. Moleskin and the constable came here, 
 bringing two prisoners — sailors from America." 
 
 " O, yes, my lady. I heard of it from Rose Tanner. She 
 came to Hawk'ell in a great to-do about her brother, who was 
 led into it by Cox. She says she wishes Cox had been drowned 
 before he got her brother into that trouble, but there was no 
 
346 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 such luck, because he was born to be hanged. If your lady- 
 ship pleases, I should like to see Moleskiu for a few minutes 
 before Sir Jerry arrives to hold the examination of the men." 
 
 " Master Bullfinch, Moleskin is gone, and the men are gone, 
 too." 
 
 " Not to prison, I hope — I do hope not to jail," said Jack, 
 with alarm. " Much depends upon Rose and her brother, and 
 perhaps on Cox." 
 
 " Why, your sister and I had no power to commit them," 
 said Lady Snaffle, " so we discharged them — set them at lib- 
 erty. At least, we procured their discharge." 
 
 " Thank you. Lady Snaffle ! Rose said you could do it," 
 said the lad, with much animation. " Yet I should have been 
 glad if I could have seen Cooper before he left here. I think 
 he could have helped us at this pinch in regard to the safety 
 and present whereabouts of Tom Scarlet ; for Rose said that 
 when he arrived she should know something without the 
 trouble of consulting the stars. Here he would have told all 
 that he knows ; for Rose says his gratitude to the Admiral 
 and his respect for all the family are very great." 
 
 "Master Jack, he has told us all he knows," said Lady 
 Snaffle. She then related the incidents which had occurred, 
 and repeated what Cox and Cooper had said. 
 
 " Please, madam," said Young Jack, " I want to see the 
 totem. May, show me the totem. Ah ! the head of a red 
 horse ! My lady, that's significant. I have had an adventure 
 myself on the road here, and have seen two other persons from 
 America." 
 
 " Indeed ! Who were they. Master Bullfinch?" 
 
 " The first, my lady, was Miriam Cotswold." 
 
 " Oh, dear !" said May. " Then she has got back ?" 
 
 " Go on, sir. AVliat did she say in regard to her adventures, 
 and to others ?" said Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " Very little indeed, my lady. She tried to avoid me ; but 
 I ran her down, as I may say, being well mounted. Then she 
 was mysterious, and wanted to get rid of me, telling me not to 
 mention to you and May that I had seen her, as she wanted to 
 be secret for a very short time. But that, of course, was out 
 of the question. Then she became very friendly — said she had 
 come back mainly to have the pleasure of meeting me and 
 seeing May hai)py as the day is long." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 347 
 
 " My dear May," said Lady Snaffle, " is this gypsy an artful, 
 treacherous person — one likely to have adopted these profes- 
 sions as a means of deceiving your brother and blinding us ?" 
 
 " Dear lady, I think not," said May, after a moment's con- 
 sideration. " She was always thought frank and bold, rather 
 than crafty and treacherous. But the habits and nature of 
 those people lead them to deal in mystery and roundabout 
 ways. Miriam will do no harm. She was often brought to 
 our house by her mother, before she lost her, and before I and 
 my brother lost our dear mother." 
 
 " May, you are right. I know you are. I am sure Miriam 
 is friendly to us," said Young Jack. 
 
 " Perhaps so — I hope so," said Lady Snaffle. " But what 
 else did she say ?" 
 
 " My lady, I do not judge so much by tohat she said as by 
 her voice and the look of her eye when she said it. She said 
 she hoped Tom would soon be here — that she was satisfied he 
 would." 
 
 "And what else?" 
 
 " That Jagger was dead — killed in America." 
 
 " Jagger ! \Yho is Jagger ?" 
 
 " The man who ran away with the White Horse and her 
 uncle's money, besides a great deal more," said Jack. 
 
 " What more said she, and where was she going ?" 
 
 " She was going to the camp on the heath, and she told 
 nothing more," replied Jack. " I pressed her hard, but she 
 said she couldn't — she was under a promise. Xow, Rose said 
 she was under a promise, too, my lady ; and I think I know 
 the man to whom their promises are given. If Rose's brother 
 was here now he would tell your ladyship what these promises 
 are about, if your ladyship commanded him to do so ; for, as 
 Hose says, ' he honors the Admiral, and obeys orders.' " 
 
 " I, however, should hardly be able to compel his obedience," 
 said Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " Oh, yes, your ladyship would, for he has been in men-of- 
 war for the last eighteen years, and in Admiral Broadside's 
 absence he would consider your ladyship as in command. 
 Besides, my lady, he has been away from the gypsies long 
 enough to have dropped their mystery and in-and-out running 
 methods of dealing. As it is, I must look up Rose early in 
 the morning, and with her and the twins I shall find Cooper." 
 
348 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " And to whom are the gypsy women under promise, Master 
 Bullfinch ?" said Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " To the man that I met shortly after I parted from Miriam, 
 my lady. She said I should probably meet a man on the road, 
 and I did. He was a sinewy, strong man — well mounted and 
 a capital horseman, as I could see at a glance." 
 
 " Who was he ? Let us know that first. Tell me directly, 
 Master Jack. Was it not Tom Scarlet ?" said Lady Snaffle, 
 impetuously. 
 
 " Bless me, my lady ! no. 'Twas a stranger to these parts — 
 a man from America." 
 
 " What man from America — this makes three in twenty- 
 four hours or less ?" 
 
 " Oh, Lady Snaffle, the man who killed Jagger. He told 
 me that he was." 
 
 "What! he killed a person, and avows it? May, my 
 dear, you must not think of going home to-night, with this 
 fearful man on the road." 
 
 " If your ladyship pleases, there will be no danger at all ; 
 I shall be with May," said Jack. " And I think this man 
 may be a very good man, though he did kill Jagger. People 
 say that your ladyship's father has killed some hundreds in 
 his time." 
 
 " Master Bullfinch, I desire you not to compare this blood- 
 thirsty man from America to my father. He was an officer 
 in the fleet, a captain under Nelson. It was in the course of 
 war and duty, and those they killed were Frenchmen and 
 Spaniards !" 
 
 " Jagger was a rogue," said Young Jack, and then added 
 hastily : " But please forgive me, my lady. I only meant that 
 the man might not be so very bad after all. I'm sure I hope 
 not." 
 
 " You are a good, brave boy, Master Jack. But, my dear 
 May, I do not like it. The killing a man, not in battle, and 
 then announcing it off-hand to a strange youth, is dreadl'ul. 
 You must not go home ; at least not until Sir Jerry comes." 
 
 " Please, my lady, I am sure we need fear nothing at the 
 hands of this man from America. He had heard of Sir Jerry. 
 He spoke highly of my father. He sent his respectful regards 
 — his particular regards to May. He praised me and Young 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 349 
 
 Cowslip ; and he said I should see him again. And Miriam 
 Cotswoid said before I met him that he was rough and ready, 
 but as true as steel." 
 
 " Did he say anything of Tom Scarlet ?" 
 
 "Yes, madam, that he heard he would soon be home," 
 replied Jack, with some hesitation and confusion. 
 
 " Master Bullfinch, tell me all he said about Mr. Scarlet." 
 
 " 0, my lady ! O, my dear sister May ! Tom was shot in the 
 head, and fell into the river above the rapids, and the peril 
 was fearful. But the man says he knows one in America who 
 went down a cauyon of the Colorado, yet is alive at this day, 
 and Tom may have escaped. And, my lady — May, my dear 
 sister — I know he escaped. I feel certain that he did, and he 
 will soon be here." 
 
 " How do you reach such positive belief?" said Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " My lady, I reach it because this man knows all about the 
 steeple-chase match, and because he said that he would bet 
 against the Duke, for that Sir Jerry would have the best horse 
 aod the best rider, and was the best man of the two." 
 
 "Then I do not believe him," said Lady Snaffle, hastily. 
 " I mean, my dear May and Jack, about the bet and the horse 
 and rider," she added, with a smile. 
 
 " Dear Lady Snaffle," said May, with a confiding look, " can 
 you not guess who this man is ? The sailor Cox spoke of one 
 in America who was Mr. Scarlet's fast friend, and would take 
 desperate chances for him." 
 
 " The Indian, my dear?" 
 
 " Oh, no, dear lady ; the white man, Sassafras." 
 
 "My dear May, I think you are right. The man your 
 brother has met is Sassafras, and Scarlet cannot be far off". 
 When you spoke, I thought of the Indian — what is his name, 
 Nutmeg, Allspice, Cloves — what was it ?" 
 
 " Cinnamon." 
 
 " So it was. Now, I shall have much to tell Sir Jerry, and 
 you and Jack will have much to tell your father — the sailor 
 Cox, and his statement, and the story he told of the Indian, 
 and the delivery of the totem. The boarding of the ship of 
 war, according to Cooper, by Miriam Cotswoid and Sassafras ; 
 the meeting of Master Jack with Miriam, and what she said ; 
 and what Rose Tanner, the gypsy with the twins, said ; the 
 
850 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 
 
 meeting of your brother and Sassafras, and what the man from 
 America said — oh! it will be a charming narrative," said Lady 
 Snaffle. " There is one thing, however, my dear, that rather 
 perplexes me. Men are so matter-of-fact and incredulous. 
 Sir Jerry will call for the production of the sailors, the gyp- 
 sies and Sassafras, in order that they may be required to pro- 
 duce Tom Scarlet. Master Bullfinch, do you think you can 
 produce these parties at short notice ?" 
 
 " My lady, I can do almost anything in reason," replied 
 Jack, " and I think I can do this, when Sassafras is willing. 
 My belief is that I know where the sailors, Miriam, Rose Tan- 
 ner and Sassafras are now, this very minute." 
 
 " Where, Master Jack ?" 
 
 " At the Grange, my lady. Or at the camp not far from 
 the Grange." 
 
 " Then Tom Scarlet must be with them." 
 
 " I doubt it, Lady Snaffle," said Young Jack. " Please, my 
 lady, these four have just come from America, like birds of 
 passage, and settled down here like — like plovers we'll say, 
 though it's too soon for them yet. Now, my lady, if you 
 please, they may have good reasons for keeping Tom aw^ay for 
 the present." 
 
 " Sir Jerry will insist that they produce him." 
 
 " Oh, my lady, I think not. Suppose what they do is part 
 of a well-planned and beautiful ' plant ' in regard to the great 
 match. Madam, besides the stakes, two thousand guineas, the 
 honor of our hunt, and of all this side of the county is in- 
 volved. Oh, my lady, depend upon it that Tom and Sassafras 
 have concocted a beautiful scheme and ' plant,' by means of 
 which to win the great match. I'm sure Sir Jerry wdll never 
 be the man to defeat such a thing." 
 
 " Right, young Bullfinch !" exclaimed Sir Jerry Snaffle, as 
 he came forward. He had entered unannounced, and with 
 him there was a much younger gentleman. They were in the 
 uniform of the hunt. Lord Doomsday appeared to be rather 
 confused as he bowed low to Lady Snaffle and to Miss Bull- 
 finch. "You see, my lady, I have been able to prevail upon 
 Lord Doomsday to come and take a family dinner with us. 
 If Miss Bullfinch and her brother will stay we shall be a nice 
 family party." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOX. 351 
 
 _" I am delighted to see his lordship," said Lady Snaffle. 
 *'You know our young friends, my lord. I have heard the 
 history of the great run with the Fringford Gorse fox, from 
 Master Bullfinch, and my goddaughter, May, has told me of 
 the enjoyment you have afibrded her father." 
 
 " I think the greater part of the enjoyment was mine. Lady 
 Snaffle. I have had the pleasure, the great pleasure, of meet- 
 in o- IMiss Bullfinch and her brother at their father's house sev- 
 eral times," said the young man, frankly. 
 
 " ^lay, you will stay, will you not ?" 
 
 "Oh, no, my lady, we cannot. My father will expect us, 
 and he would be lonely," said May. 
 
 Lady Snaffle knew that when May said anything positively, 
 it was of little use to try to change her determination. She, 
 therefore, recounted briefly and rapidly to Sir Jerry all the 
 events of the day. The baronet listened with much interest, 
 and so did Lord Doomsday. When the lady had finished her 
 narrative, the former said, " I wish the sailors had been de- 
 tained until I came home — not that I would have them pun- 
 ished, but with them in custody we should have some sort of 
 hold upon the women and the American. It is clear that 
 some of them, certainly the American, and the girl, Miriam, 
 and perhaps Rose Tanner, know all about Tom Scarlet, and it 
 concerns me to know it, too, and that very soon." 
 
 " Surely, as a magistrate, chairman of the bench, you can 
 make them give information, Sir Jerry," said Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " Why, I could have done so, but you have let the means 
 go. The sailors cannot be arrested again. The women have 
 done nothing, that I know of, except held interviews with our 
 young friend, Master Jack. Neither has the American." 
 
 " Sir Jerry, I'm surprised ! The American, by his own con- 
 fession — nay, his cool avowal — has killed a man, and surely 
 he can be taken up?" 
 
 " Not at all, my dear. I have no jurisdiction. Ask Dooms- 
 day." 
 
 «' Then how are we to find where ^Ir. Scarlet is ?" 
 
 " I wish I knew how. We cannot well send the bellman 
 round to cry a reward for him." 
 
 " Sir Jerry, you are too absurd. I wish my father was here. 
 He would soon make them produce him." 
 
352 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " Laura, I know what your father would do. He would 
 very sooa get out of the man-of-\var's-man all that he knows, 
 which is very little, for, according to his own account, he never 
 saw Tom Scarlet, and did not know Miriam when she boarded 
 his ship with the American at New York. The Admiral would 
 then turn to the gypsy women, if he could catch them. But 
 we can do with them all that he could do, and, I think, more. 
 He could not well read the articles of war to them, and 
 threaten the cat-o'-nine-tails if they did not split. As for the 
 American, he would be certain to defy the Admiral to his 
 teeth. Miss Bullfinch, tell me your opinion of this American. 
 He seems to me to control the gypsy women and the sailor, 
 Cox." 
 
 " I have never seen the man, Sir Jerry, but my brother has, 
 and he has quick perception." 
 
 *' Please, Sir Jerry, I have. JMay is right. I pronounced 
 Lord Doomsday a good one from the first time I saw him," 
 said Young Jack, briskly. 
 
 " Let your sister proceed. Master Jack. Her opinion in 
 this matter will be of more value, I think, than that of all the 
 rest of us." 
 
 " My brother's opinion of the American is very favorable, 
 Sir Jerry, and I have still greater faith in him." 
 
 " Why, my dear young lady ?" 
 
 " Because of his character. Sir Jerry. I first heard it last 
 spring when Cotsvvold told my father of him, and delivered 
 two letters from Mr. Scarlet. In these letters he was spoken 
 of in the highest terms. The gypsy spoke of him as such men 
 never speak of any one who is not brave, honest, and true to 
 his professions. Pie is a horseman — a great horseman ! and 
 Oh, Sir Jerry and dear Lady Snafile ! I never in my life knew 
 a really great horseman who was a treacherous, pitiful rogue. 
 It would be against nature !" said May, with emphasis. 
 
 " Now, thank you, May Bullfinch, for speaking such a 
 sovereign truth," said Sir Jerry, 
 
 "And in this I heartily join," exclaimed Lord Doomsday. 
 " It is a truth." 
 
 " I really think it is," said Lady Snaffle, " for my husband, 
 John Bullfinch, and Major Fitzgerald are instances." 
 
 " So is Tom Scarlet, my lady ! And, Lord Doomsday, you're 
 another, as the saying is," cried Young Jack. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 353 
 
 " Ay," said May, " there is no truer heart than that of the 
 man who is absent, and none (dropping her voice) more gen- 
 erous and kind than that of the young nobleman who is present. 
 Since w^e never doubted Mr. Scarlet, why should w^e doubt his 
 friend ? The sailor said to-day that he could not be dead 
 because Sassafras was with him, a man who w^ould take des- 
 perate chances rather than have him hurt. Sir Jerry, I have 
 full faith in this man from America. If he had done wrong, 
 or deserted his friend at need, or even if he had bad news to 
 relate, he w^ould not have sent the message to my father and 
 — to me." 
 
 *' That's as clear as the sun at noonday," said Sir Jerry. 
 
 " And he would not be going to bet against the Duke in 
 the match," said Young Jack. " Oh, Sir Jerry, consider the 
 bearings of the match !" 
 
 May Bullfinch drew nearer to Lady Snafile. She blushed 
 and was a little shame-faced, having done speaking. How 
 came the insight and apt reasoning from one who was usually 
 distinguished for maidenly reserve ? Why, she would die for 
 Tom Scarlet ; and the man, Sassafras, from all that she could 
 learn and divine, would die for him too, at need. " A fellow 
 feeling makes us wondrous kind," and sometimes eloquent and 
 wise as well. 
 
 " I must sleep upon this, and then determine how to act," 
 said Sir Jerry. " Lady Snafile, we had a great run to-day — a 
 grand run. Lord Doomsday was in at the death." 
 
 The ladies and young Bullfinch congratulated his lordship. 
 
 "My lord, I'm so glad," said Young Jack. "Of course 
 the country was stiff*." 
 
 " I should think so. We found at Stratton and he w^ent 
 right through the Bicester Yale. All the fences are big there," 
 said Sir Jerry. 
 
 " I wish I had been there," said Jack. " I was upon the 
 point of trying to come up with Lord Doomsday to ask for 
 his influence in favor of Jim Tanner, but Rose said — said 
 something." 
 
 "And what was it she said. Master Jack?" said Sir 
 Jerry. 
 
 " If you please. Lord Doomsday and Sir Jerry, I hope it 
 won't give ofifeuce. She said, 'That for his influence! (suap- 
 23 
 
354 THE WHITE HOUSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 ping his fingers) Lady SuafHe has more influence with Sir 
 Jerry, and reason good, than twenty lords !' " 
 
 The baronet laughed heartily, >vhile Lady Snaffle and the 
 young lord had some difficulty in refraining from laughter 
 themselves. The gentlemen then retired. In a few minutes, 
 however, the footman announced that Sir Jerry wished to see 
 Master Bullfinch for a moment. 
 
 " Now, Master Bullfinch," said Lady Snaffle, "you must 
 not say that there is a beautiful scheme, a plan, in pursuance 
 of which Tom Scarlet is to be kept concealed. I insist upon 
 it that he shall be produced. Tell Sir Jerry that." 
 
 " Master Jack, do you happen to know where Jack Cots- 
 wold is at present ?" said the baronet, as the boy entered his 
 room. 
 
 " Why, no. Sir Jerry. Stop ! Eose said at Christmas that 
 he had gone to Lancashire. I have it. Sir Jerry ! Where he 
 is Tom is, and please. Sir Jerry, they are watering the 'plant.' " 
 
 " AVatering the * plant.' Then there is a * plant ?' " 
 
 " O, if you please. Sir Jerry, I forgot. I was not to men- 
 tion that, and I must not disobey her ladyship for anything." 
 
 " You imagine Tom Scarlet is in England, and will be here 
 to ride in the match ?" 
 
 " Yes, Sir Jerry, and that he will bring the horse he is to 
 ride. He was to bring the White Horse, and no doubt he has 
 got him. He went for him," Jack replied. 
 
 "My own thought. Master Jack. What else could the 
 American intend when he said he should bet against the 
 Duke ? Say nothing of this." 
 
 "O, not a word. Sir Jerry. But if The Bagman keeps on 
 going well, and if Tom and his horse should not come to time 
 I think, please, Sir Jerry, you had better get Lord Doomsday 
 to ride." 
 
 " Too young and too modest, Young Jack." 
 
 " Please, Sir Jerry, he's not as young as he looks, and that 
 is the case with me. I could show him over every line in the 
 vale, and whichever the gentlemen choose, he would know^ the 
 rights of it. I think they will choose the one right down this 
 side of Brill Hill, so as to have the big brook and Barker's 
 bullfinch towards the finish." 
 
 " I think it very likely, Master Jack. Gk)od-by. I may be 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 355 
 
 at Hawk'ell to-morrow, perhaps. If not, I shall be on the 
 third day, unless I see "our father at the meet on the day after 
 to-morrow." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 
 " 0, tell me how Love cometh — 
 Like dew from Heaven sent. 
 And tell me how Love goeth — 
 That was not Love which went." 
 
 AT the rising of the moon, as May Bullfinch and her 
 brother rode home, there was a change of the wind and 
 of the weather. The breeze veered six or eight points at the 
 going down of the sun, and riding on the sharp loreath of the 
 north came a frost which seemed rapidly to convert the mud 
 into a thick crust, and to cover the pools with a thin skin of 
 ice. John Bullfinch had reached home, after the capital run 
 with the hounds, long before his children arrived. As he wel- 
 comed his daughter, he saw that she was excited and some- 
 what agitated. After supper, Moleskin called in, and gave 
 an account of the sailors, whose release he now seemed to re- 
 gret. John, however, maintained that he had done quite 
 right. The keeper denied it, but declared that he derived 
 great consolation from the belief that one or both of them 
 would be wounded by a spring-gun or caught in a man-trap 
 before many days. Upon this a debate arose. The worthies 
 contradicted each other, got heated, and each declared that 
 the other was the most unreasonable man in the neighborhood. 
 To this the keeper added that, concerning John Bullfinch, it 
 was no wonder, for nobody ever heard of a Bullfinch who 
 would not fly into a passion when confronted and confounded 
 by cool argument. They then got sulky over their pipes, and 
 looked at each other for some time more like bulldogs than 
 two middle-aged men who had a strong regard for each other. 
 Gradually May Bullfinch and Jack unfolded to them all they 
 had to tell concerning Cox and Cooper, Miriam Cotswold and 
 the man believed to be Sassafras. The farmer was sorely per- 
 plexed. " It beats me clean," said he. " I can't make it out. 
 If Tom Scarlet is alive and well, as Southdown maintains to 
 
356 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 be beyond argument, and as Sir Jerry himself holds to be 
 nearly certain, -svhy don't he come home and show himself? It 
 appears that other people have lately come from America. 
 Here's this sailor chap and the man-of-war's-man — here's 
 Miriam Cots wold ; here's this man that killed Jagger, and 
 makes no bones of telling of it. They have come — why hasn't 
 Tom Scarlet come ?" 
 
 " The sailor told Lady Snaffle that contrary winds had no 
 doubt prevented," replied Young Jack. 
 
 " Contrary winds didn't prevent him, it seems," said John, 
 with his eyes fixed ruefully upon his daughter's face, and a 
 little surliness in his tone. " I say contrary winds is no an- 
 swer. I want to know why Tom Scarlet doesn't come, if he 
 can come? He has nothing to be ashamed of, has he?" 
 
 " No," said Young Jack, boldly ; " Nothing at all." 
 
 " Hera !" replied the keeper. " Nothing as I know of, ex- 
 cept that if he could come, he has stayed away such a long 
 time that he feels himself to be in the wrong as regards — as 
 regards your daughter. May, and hangs fire like." 
 
 " I should think he's no such faint-hearted fool as that," 
 said John Bullfinch. " But now, Dick, as you are cool again, 
 and are a long-headed sort of man, and well up to some things 
 when your prejudices are not involved, give me your opinion 
 of the sailors, the gypsy, and the man from America, and 
 what they say." 
 
 " I will," said Moleskin. " In the first place, the sailors are 
 poachers ; and I have no faith in anything said or done by a 
 poacher. It's true I let them go, more fool I. But it was at 
 the request of Lady Snaffle, and her ladyship's wishes are a 
 sort of law to me, in anything reasonable. What the sailors 
 said is to be looked upon as gammon — nothing but gammon !" 
 
 " Cox produced the totem. May has it," said Young Jack. 
 
 " Well, as far as the totem goes, we'll admit what he says ; 
 though, as he's a poacher, and a bad character in general, as 
 all poachers are — he kicked up a row at the races, when here 
 in the spring, and punched Parkins in the head^I might de- 
 cline to admit so much. But that admitted, what does it 
 amount to ? Nothing at all. He has not seen Tom Scarlet 
 for nearly a year, nor anybody who has seen him. Then 
 there's the gypsy ! We know what gypsies are. Miriam, 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 857 
 
 Miss May is going to say, is different from tne common run. 
 There is a difference, for she's bolder and more artful than 
 others of the band. Think of her setting off to America all 
 alone — if she was alone — and staying there alone for a year !" 
 May Bullfinch hid her face in her handkerchief. Moleskin 
 saw it, but went on like a surgeon who, with a knife in hand, 
 cuts away, caring nothing for the quivering of the nerves or 
 the flinching of the muscles. " Therefore," said he, "we must 
 look at her as just as any other gypsy, but more dangerous 
 and deceitful than common. You can't hatch a pheasant out 
 of a crow's Qgg^ no matter where you set it. So what she 
 says is of no more use than a flash in the pan. Not so much, 
 for it is to be taken contrary ways. And I'm very glad she 
 didn't say more. If she had said plump that Tom Scarlet 
 was vvell and would be here to-night, and had offered to swear 
 to it, I should have considered it good proof that he was as 
 dead as a red herring." 
 
 " Go on to the other fellow — the man from America," said 
 John, gruflly. 
 
 " The other fellow," said Moleskin, " is, by his own showing, 
 a dangerous and suspicious character, a sort of wild beast in a 
 neighborhood like this." 
 
 " No, no ! a civil man ! a well-spoken man !" said Young 
 Jack. 
 
 "A man who has killed other men and brags about it," re- 
 turned Moleskin. " Who has been shot four or five times, and 
 isn't dead yet, which is of itself enough to set peaceable people 
 on their guard against him. It is to be hoped that he's had 
 nothing to do with Tom Scarlet, for if he has, it's ten to one 
 that the young man is dead as a door nail, and this man and 
 the gypsy have come over here to try and get hold of his pro- 
 perty. Didn't you say the gypsy told you that you would 
 meet him ? and didn't you say that he asked the wav to the 
 Grange?" 
 
 "I did," replied Young Jack, "but what of that? Why, 
 if he was, as I hope and believe, Tom Scarlet's true friend in 
 America, and is his friend and our friend now, he would ask 
 that." 
 
 The keeper was about to reply, when John Bullfinch inter- 
 posed. 
 
358 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " Dick," said he, " Jack is right in that remark. May, my 
 dear, the argument we have heard from Moleskin seemed strong, 
 very strong, for a time. But it reminds me of one made to 
 him and me by Parkins, when Tom Scarlet first went away, 
 which proved that Tom was murdered then, and that Gypsy 
 Jack had done it." 
 
 " What the man says himself doesn't seem to give ground 
 for any reasonable expectation that Tom Scarlet will ever be 
 seen here again," said the keeper. " I'm sorry, very sorry to 
 give Miss May pain ; but the sooner she ceases to remember 
 him the better. Not but what she may have a kind of hope, 
 just as you and I hope that our cock will win his battle, when 
 everybody else about the pit is ready to pound him. There 
 may be hope, but I can't see that there is any grounds for rea- 
 sonable expectation." 
 
 The keeper soon after left them, and the farmer and his 
 children sat silent until the clock struck ten. May Bullfinch 
 then kissed her father and went up-stairs with her brother, 
 while John removed into the kitchen and established himself 
 in the chimney-corner. The boy did and said all he could to 
 reassure his sister, and insisted much upon the look and man- 
 ner of Sassafras. They knelt together and said their prayers. 
 Never since the time of her early infancy, when her mother 
 used to put her little hands together, before she could talk, 
 and repeat the Lord's prayer, had May prayed more fervently, 
 or with a more serene confidence in the wisdom and mercy of 
 God, than on that night. She bade her brother an afiectionate 
 good-night, and prepared to undress. Then she drew aside the 
 curtain at one of her windows and looked out. It faced towards 
 the south. Beneath it was the paved court-yard, then the 
 garden : to the left the orchard, and in front of all the meadow 
 called the Lea, which extended down to the blackthorn brake 
 surrounding the Hawk's Well, from which the ancient house 
 and farm derived its name. The moon, now high in the hea- 
 vens and nearly at her full, shone brightly down upon the 
 brake, and there for an instant the maiden saw the figure of a 
 man in the tall bushes, whose face in the moonlight was pale. 
 She started back, like one who had been struck. In a mo- 
 ment, however, she collected herself, and looked out again. 
 No form was there. But at that instant a drift of clouds was 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 359 
 
 passing over the moon. She waited until it was gone, but even 
 tlien she could see nothing save the dark outline of the bushes 
 which formed the brake. It was the place where she and Tom 
 Scarlet had often walked in the gloaming, and a strange feeling, 
 neither fear nor dread, but akin to both, shot through her. 
 She reasoned that the appearance resulted from her over-tried 
 and agitated imagination, and falling on her knees she prayed 
 again with fervor. 
 
 Meantime, the mastiff. Fury, which had been sleeping before 
 the fire when John Bullfinch seated himself in the chimney- 
 corner, arose and paced the room like a tiger in a cage. Once 
 or twice she came to the farmer, and laying her great dark 
 muzzle on his knee, gave a sort of moan. She grew so uneasy 
 and went so often to the door, that John Bullfinch rose and let 
 her out. Instead of barking, as was her wont, she turned and 
 looked him in the face, until he closed the door upon her. 
 Then with noiseless steps and long strides, she took her way to 
 the brake by the well, and there paced round and round a 
 muffled man, who stood among the bushes with his eyes 
 steadily fixed upon the light at the window of May Bullfinch. 
 A quarter of an hour passed, during which the man still 
 watched the light, seemingly hoping or fearing that the maiden 
 would come to the window again, when the mastiff" stopped in 
 her walk, and with fire in her red eye, gave a low deep growl. 
 
 " Quiet, Fury ! a friend !" said the man, as the rustle of the 
 bushes gave note that another was approaching. 
 
 "Against orders!" said the new^ comer. "Quiet that big 
 dog. She's twice as big as a Spanish bloodhound, and looks 
 four or five times as fierce. You were to wait for me at the 
 Grange." 
 
 " I know that, but I couldn't do so. Sassafras. So near her, 
 after such a long absence. Such doubt and fear as there's been 
 about me, and such faith and trust as she has shown — I 
 could wait no longer. I couldn't stay away from her another 
 minute. Look here ! this is from my picture, taken when I 
 was a boy. She put it there with her own hands on Christmas 
 eve." 
 
 " Ay, ay ! a good girl !" said Sassafras, taking a sprig of 
 holly, and holding it in the moonlight. " If you remember, I 
 always said she was a good girl, when you talked of her at 
 
360 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 our camps, and so did Francois. But as you are here, why not 
 go to the house, and let the jolly old farmer bring his daugh- 
 ter down to welcome her wandering lover ?" 
 
 " Ay, why not !" replied Tom Scarlet. " I see by the light 
 below that John Bullfinch is in the kitchen, no doubt smoking 
 his pipe in the chimney-corner. Fury found out somehow 
 that I was here, for I heard the back door shut just before she 
 came, which must be half an hour ago. I've been watching 
 that light at her window. She came to it once." 
 
 " Watching the light ! Why you're as silly as the fellow 
 who sat on the bank all day waiting for the river to run by. 
 Why don't you go to the house and watch her?" 
 
 " The truth is. Sassafras, that I feel timid — what you may 
 call shy, and afraid to present myself before her, having been 
 away so long. I ought to have come when we first landed." 
 
 " You ought not to have come now, I think," said Sassafras. 
 "A man of your pluck — a young fellow like you! after the 
 adventures you've gone through, been at death's door, and 
 three parts of the way in, to be afraid of a young girl who 
 loves you, is the greatest nonsense I ever heard of." 
 
 " I knew you would say so ; but so it is ! It's my love for 
 her, you know." 
 
 " Love ! Ain't I in love ? Look at me ! Am I afraid ?" 
 
 " You're not in love with her f said Tom, with emphasis. 
 
 " Why, no ! If I was I shouldn't stand chattering here in 
 the chill moonlight when I might be by her side at the fire," 
 replied Sassafras. " If this is to be the effect she'll have on 
 you. Sir Jerry must get another rider, for you'll break your 
 neck in the steeple-chase to a certainty, after a few hours at 
 her apron strings. If you've got a flask of brandy about you, 
 take a good swig and settle your thoughts." 
 
 " I have none. I need none ; and after our meeting is once 
 over, I shall be as bold as a lion and as cool as a cucumber 
 for the steeple-chase. With her eye on me, I can't lose it." 
 
 " Well, that's more like the Tom Scarlet I have known. 
 This little rascal love plays the traitor though, to some bold 
 hearts, and courage goes out as he enters in. I suppose I 
 must go to honest John myself. It's lucky I met his son — a 
 likely lad — since I left you. Keep that dog back, and keep 
 her quiet. When I whistle come to the door." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 361 
 
 John Bullfinch was still seated in the chimney-corner, and 
 not in a cheerful frame of mind, when there was a guarded 
 knock at the door. The farmer wondered that there was no 
 alarm from Fury ; but he was insensible to fear, and thought 
 it might be one of his men, come there for some reason. He 
 opened the door, and there stood Sassafras, in his pilot coat 
 and glazed hat. At first appearance the face of Sassafras was 
 not one to strike an Englishman of the rnral parts favorably. 
 The strong, bony features, the deep-set, bright eye, and the 
 matted, black hair were such as were seldom seen in the Mid- 
 land Vale. 
 
 " What do you want ?" said the farmer. 
 
 "Your pardon for what seems an unwarrantable intrusion 
 at this hour," replied Sassafras. "After that a few words 
 with you, and a word or two with your son, Master Bullfinch, 
 who has a sort of a promise from me." 
 
 " And who may you be ?" said John Bullfinch. 
 
 " I'm the man he met to-day. I suppose he mentioned the 
 man from America ?" 
 
 " The man from America !" said John Bullfinch, with an 
 air of surprise and abstraction. " Yes, he mentioned that 
 man." 
 
 " Well, Mr. Bullfinch, I am the man in question — Sassafras, 
 the friend of Tom Scarlet." 
 
 " You are quite sure of that last, eh ?" 
 
 " I am," said Sassafras, returning the farmer's steady look. 
 
 " Come in," said John ; " I fully believe you. I'll call my 
 son down without disturbing his sister." 
 
 " Wait a bit, Mr. Bullfinch," said Sassafras, as they entered 
 together. " There's another man from America outside, and 
 he's more bashful than I am, so I came first." 
 
 " You mean Tom ? God bless my soul and heart alive ! 
 He isn't dead, and he's come at last," cried John Bullfinch. 
 " I've said so all along. I told 'em so ! I said to Moleskin 
 this very night — says I, ' Tom is all right, and the man from 
 America is his friend.' Sassafras, bring Tom in !" 
 
 " Gently, sir ; speak lower. Miss May Bullfinch had better 
 not be alarmed of a sudden." 
 
 "You're right! It's well be-thought of. My daater has 
 been anxious and disturbed, in a sort of pale and pining way. 
 AVe must have a care for her." 
 
3G2 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 "It will be easily managed," said Sassafras. "You call 
 Master Bullfiuch down-stairs handsomely — that is, with no 
 more stir than needful, and I'll have Tom here in no time. 
 Then your son shall go up and call his sister to hear what his 
 acquaintance, the man from America, has got to say. She will 
 see, by the boy's face and manner, that the man from America 
 has good news. At the foot of the stairs you take her in your 
 arms with a fond embrace, and carry her into the sitting-room. 
 She'll know then who's here, and Tom may go in and tell her 
 the rest, while I explain matters to you by the chimney- 
 corner." 
 
 " It's jest the thing !" said the farmer, in a husky voice. 
 
 He stole softly up-stairs, wdiile Sassafras went to the door 
 and gave a low whistle. Before Tom Scarlet was there the 
 farmer had returned. When the young man came he shook 
 him warmly by the hand, without a word, and then drew him 
 into the room. 
 
 " Tom, my boy, I'm glad to see thee back. We thought at 
 times you would never come. But it was contrary winds, no 
 doubt. When did you land ?" 
 
 " Nearly a month ago," replied Tom, rather sheepishly. 
 
 "A month ago? And not come here till now ! Why not?" 
 
 " The truth is, sir, that Sassafras w^ould'nt let me, and I'm 
 ashamed of it. Still, I've got the horse in the way of good 
 condition by staying down there in Cheshire." 
 
 " Ah, the horse. Is he a good horse, Tom ? As good as The 
 Bagman?" 
 
 " Better, sir. At least two stone better over a real stiff 
 country. Barring accidents. Sir Jerry will win." 
 
 The entrance of the farmer's son cut short further observa- 
 tions on that head, especially as Sassafras stood forward and 
 said : 
 
 " Hullo, young Bullfinch. Here we are again. Young Jack ! 
 And you see I've brought the man who was shot in the head 
 and went down the rapids of the Neosho." 
 
 Young Jack flew to Tom Scarlet, saying : 
 
 "Oh, Tom, what a joyful thing this is. You're back! 
 Now they'll believe what I say. I told 'em so all along ! I 
 told Lady Snaffle and May this evening, and I told May to- 
 night, the very last thing I said, and after w^e had kissed each 
 other at the chamber door, that it was all right." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 863 
 
 " You are the boy for me !" said Sassafras. " Now you go 
 to your sister's room, aud ^Yake her up handsomely — gently, 
 you know. Don't rush in like a bull at a gate, but hand- 
 somely ; and say as quietly as you can, that the man from 
 America is down here and wants to see her. You may men- 
 tion that he's rough and ready, but as true as steel." 
 
 " I have already told her that a score of times, since Miriam 
 said it," replied Young Jack. 
 
 " Go, my son, and be gentle. I'll meet you and May at the 
 stair foot," said John Bullfinch. 
 
 The lad and his sister were heard on the stairs sooner than 
 they expected, for May Bullfinch had not undressed. She 
 had heard her father talking to Sassafras, though unable to 
 distinguish what he said. Heard him call her brother up, and 
 heard the latter go down-stairs. Fond kisses as he carried her 
 into the sitting-room, and many affectionate little pats on the 
 back when she was seated, together with the joy she saw in 
 his blufi* face and blue eyes, told her all. He said nothing 
 but this, " May, my dear, he's outside, and all of a flutter. 
 Afraid, the man from America says — afraid of you. I'll go 
 and send him in here." 
 
 After Tom Scarlet had gone to May, her father sat on one 
 side of the fire and his son on the other, and both had their 
 eyes on Sassafras, who was in front of it. 
 
 " I said I should explain," he began. " He was a long time 
 away, and thought to be dead. He was as near death as any 
 man may be and pull through. Shot in the head, but by a 
 glancing ball, he went down the rapids. If ten thousand men 
 went into them wounded as he was, I don't believe there would 
 be another saved. The river, however, was high, and an eddy 
 carried him on to a shelving rock, where he lay insensible. 
 It was even then falling. The streams out there rise and fall 
 very rapidly. His senses came back to him, but he was un- 
 able to get up the steep, rocky bluff". Keeps and Kirby found 
 him there the next day ; and Keeps, a handy fellow, but no 
 better in other ways than he should be, rigged a purchase and 
 got him up the bluff: They fed him and nursed him, and 
 sheltered him as well as they could, all through the storm of 
 the next night, which was one of the hardest that ever raged 
 there." 
 
 " It was well done of them," said John Bullfinch. 
 
364 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " Ay, it was ! But he was their salvation. Their lives hung 
 upon his and they knew it. On the morning after the storm, 
 I started Cinnamon and a band of his Indians on their trail, 
 while I went to look u] the man who had planned the raid 
 upon us, and who as he believed, had killed Tom Scarlet. 
 The chief was painted for war, and it was a hundred to one 
 that the hair would not be on the heads of Keeps and Kirby 
 forty-eight hours longer. Miriam Cotswold, however, insisted 
 that I should send Franyois with the Indians to look for Tom's 
 remains, and went herself. It was well, for she recognised Tom 
 just as the Indians had got the other party corralled, and had 
 loosed their knives and tomahawks for a spring." 
 
 " Bless my soul !" said John Bullfinch, while his son sat star- 
 ing upon the narrator. 
 
 *' Cinnamon was naturally disappointed, for he meant busi- 
 ness, and when the Cheyennes mean business they go for 
 blood ; but he had taken a great liking to Tom Scarlet, and 
 at his earnest entreaty, he let Keeps and Kirby slide. We 
 travelled to my plantation at St. Jo., and after the necessary 
 prepr.rations came here. We have brought the White Horse, 
 and the White Horse and I prevented Tom from coming to 
 see you right away." 
 
 " The White Horse !" said John Bullfinch. 
 
 " Ay, the White Horse. He had to be trained, you know, 
 for this great match between the Duke of Jumpover and Sir 
 Jerry. We have kept him at strong work near Chester, and 
 in about a week you and Sir Jerry must come down quietly, 
 and see a little trial." 
 
 <' The White Horse !" said John. " So this horse he's brought 
 that can beat the Bagman two stone, is the White Horse. 
 Sassafras, I have my doubts about him. He's an unlucky 
 horse, and I have my doubts." 
 
 " Sir, you'll have none when you see him take off at a rasp- 
 ing fence with Tom upon his back." 
 
 "Maybe so. Sassafras. But is he a water-jumper? You 
 see, my experience is, that many a good fencer is not good at 
 water. I mean big natural watercourses. There will be an 
 ugly brook in this business, twenty-five feet at least, and the 
 Duke's horse is a real good water-jumper, as good almost as 
 Cowslip." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 365 
 
 " Fire or water, this horse will face anything," said Sassafras, 
 " and so will his rider when Tom is in the saddle." 
 
 " Say you so ?" said John. " What's his breeding ?" 
 
 " Well, sir, the full pedigree I cannot give, but he is quite 
 thoroughbred. He was got by StumjDs." 
 
 " Hold on !" said John, " you begin well. The Whalebone 
 blood, to begin with as a foundation, cannot be excelled. 
 From Whalebone's son (Stumps) comes the color." 
 
 " His dam was by Master Henry." 
 
 " Why, good again !" cried John. " It couldn't be better. 
 There you bring in Old Orville, a horse of ten thousand." 
 
 " Grandam by Tramp," said Sassafras sententiously. 
 
 " Why, better yet ! This'll suit John Gully, Isaac Sadler, 
 and Ransome exactly. Why, Tramp got the Little Red Rover 
 and Dangerous ; and he was grandsire of Glencoe, with whom 
 Lord Jersey challenged for The Whip at Kew Market, last 
 year. Sassafras, you must see Ransome." 
 
 Sassafras laughed, and said, " Well, sir, to tell you the truth, 
 I have seen him. We sent a special request to him to come 
 down and look at the horse a week ago, and there he is now, 
 taking care of him while we run up here." 
 
 " Oh, father, what a beautiful plant !" said Young Jack. 
 
 " Why, so it is. But, Sassafras, Ransome is no trainer. 
 Now, if you had sent to me, I could have got Will Chifney 
 and John Day to go down." 
 
 " Yes, and half England would have known it. Mr. Ran- 
 some don't attract the public eye. Why, the people in the 
 coaches on his journey down took him for a banker. Besides, 
 Tom says that he is the best judge in England of a horse for 
 cross-country work, and of his proper condition." 
 
 " Sassafras, I believe he is, except Tom himself. Tom is an 
 extraordinary young man. Still, he ought to have let us 
 known that he was well and at hand." 
 
 " I'll explain that," said Sassafras. " A letter was sent to 
 you from St. Jo. by him, the direction by another hand. That 
 letter was lost at sea, there is every reason to believe ; and 
 when he learned through Miriam that you had heard nothing 
 of him, and that Miss Bullfinch was unwell, I could hold him 
 in no longer. He has been going to bolt the track above twice 
 a week ever since we lauded, and when he found that his letter 
 
366 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 had never reached England, come here he would. We must 
 go again by the mail coach just before day, leaving you to 
 explain to Sir Jerry Snaffle." 
 
 " I'll ride over and do so," said John. " You mentioned 
 Miriam Cotswold. It is almost a pity that she has come back 
 to these parts. A gypsy camp is a queer place." 
 
 " Farmer Bullfinch," said Sassafras, " she is not going to 
 stay back. After Tom's affairs are settled she will return to 
 America with me. I'm going to marry her. She will suit 
 me and suit my plantation as its mistress. She can put up 
 with my way of life better than any other woman in the 
 world. A little while in the gypsy camp here won't hurt her. 
 Miriam can take care of herself anywhere. She was in an 
 Indian camp when I first saw her." 
 
 " You will be married here, of course." 
 
 " No, sir ; in King George county, Virginia, where I was 
 born, there is a little church, and in the graveyard round that 
 little church my forefathers are buried. Miriam and I have 
 settled it that we'll be married in that little church. In fact, 
 she insists that it shall be there." 
 
 " Give me your hand again, sir," said John Bullfinch. " I 
 shall see about a wedding gift for Miriam. My daater May 
 will help me to see about it. Her mother, who is dead and 
 gone, used to have Miriam here when she was a child. Sas- 
 safras, you're the right sort of man. And if you did kill 
 Jagger, it's a matter for your own conscience as to whether 
 there was justifiable cause." 
 
 " In regard to that there was," said Sassafras. " I could 
 kill three or four more like him, in the same circumstances, 
 without the least compunction. The man was a villain — a 
 thief and a coward, and a murderer at heart ! We'll say no 
 more about him. As to the match, you come down with Sir 
 Jerry and see the horse. Meantime, we will keep our own 
 counsel, and come upon the Duke's party next month like a 
 thunder-clap in the night." 
 
 "So it shall be. Jack, you nu:;tn't split," said John, 
 seriously. 
 
 " Me split ! Never fear me ! But I must ride over with 
 Mav when she goes to tell all this to Lady Snaffle, so that I 
 may caution her ladyship," replied Young Jack. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 367 
 
 " It may be as well. "\Ye will all three go to-morrow after 
 iiniier. And I say, Jack, you needn't mention to her lady- 
 ship what Sassafras said about killing four or five more such 
 as Jagger, nor about the disappointment of the Indian because 
 he couldn't go for blood. Ladies, you see," he added to Sas- 
 safras, "are apt to be prejudiced in such matters; and the 
 Indian has sent over a message and a token, claiming Tom as 
 a sort of enlisted man, or what not." 
 
 " The totem of the tribe has come, then ! I'm glad of that. 
 Tom is now one of the Cheyeunes !" 
 
 " Sassafras," said Young Jack, " don't you tell that to our 
 May. She won't like it to be said about here that Tom is an 
 Indian." 
 
 " I see ! Young ladies may be prejudiced on that point," 
 replied Sassafras. " But it's much the same as when your 
 king has a man kneel down, and with a touch of a sword 
 makes him rise up ' right honorable.' I'm a Cheyenne myself 
 in the way that Tom is. I earned the distinction on the war- 
 path against the Sioux, in the Eocky Mountains. Some day, 
 Young Jack, I'll tell you about the battle we fought in Hell 
 Gate Pass, when the Blackfeet had nearly come in third hand, 
 and put us all to the axe and scalping-knife. I can tell you 
 some beautiful things about Cinnamon, for, as a warrior and 
 hunter, there's not his equal among the tribes." 
 
 While the roving hunter of the West was interesting John 
 Bullfinch and his son, there was sweet communing and some 
 tears between May and Tom Scarlet in the other room. They 
 sat side by side and hand in hand, and Fury was at her mis- 
 tress' feet. As he told his tale she looked fondly in his manly 
 face. When he added that he must leave her before the dawn 
 of day, she said : 
 
 " Oh, Tom ! so soon, and after such an absence, when some 
 thought you had forgotten all about us." 
 
 " 'Tis but for two or three weeks," he replied. " And O, 
 May, my life and love, I never in one waking hour ceased to 
 think of you. I was scarcely at Liverpool when your image, 
 always in my mind, had liked to have lured me back. But I 
 said, ' If I go back bootless what a fool she'll think me.' Then 
 at sea, when I was sick, no better than a dead man, in the gale, 
 and the brig groaned and pitched as if she was going down 
 
368 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 head first to the bottom of the sea, the thought of you was all 
 I had to set against much misery. In the West, upon the 
 great plains, hundreds of miles from the habitations of men, 
 with a feeling of boundless freedom, in boundless space, it was 
 happy to sit with Sassafras by the camp-fire at night, and, while 
 the wolves howled in the dark shadow beyond the light, to talk 
 of you. May. And when I lay, torn and bruised, on the rock 
 in the rapids, and with returning consciousness, that seemed to 
 come just as I was about to gasp out my last, your form came 
 with it, like a soft vision in my sleep, and gave me heart and 
 strength. Dear May, it was a joy, and I said, ' I shall not 
 perish here in the wilderness to be the prey of wolf and kite, 
 for my love lives for me in the Vale at home, and I will live 
 for her." 
 
 " O, Tom — poor Tom !" said she, with her face on his 
 shoulder. 
 
 " So May, my life and heart ! one little parting, and then I 
 return for good and all." 
 
 " And then you will roam no more ?" 
 
 " No more. Here is my home. Here is my love — better 
 than home itself! Home would be nothing — less than the 
 western wilds without her," he replied. " I shall never wan- 
 der more." 
 
 " Not even to go to see Sassafras, Tom ?" 
 
 " Ah, May, Sassafras, the best and most unselfish of friends, 
 will come sometimes to see you and me, and bring Miriam with 
 him. He is a born I'over, and neither of them seems to sutler 
 from the sea." 
 
 They sat and talked on. Young Jack came and hinted that 
 a little of Tom Scarlet's company in the kitchen would be de- 
 sirable ; his father came and asked May whether she had not 
 better go to bed. But there she sat, with Fury's great head 
 in her lap, and her hand in Tom Scarlet's, until Sassafras came 
 to the door and said, " Time's up !" 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 369 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIIL 
 
 ** Say, by what name men call ye, 
 
 What city is your home, 
 That in such guise ye come to rido 
 
 Before the ranks of Rome? 
 By many names men call us, 
 
 In many lands we dwell ; 
 Well Samo Thracia knows us, 
 
 Cyrene knows us well. 
 Our house in gay Tarentum 
 
 Is hung each morn with flowers J 
 Over the masts of Syracuse 
 
 Our marble portal towers. 
 But by the proud Eurotas 
 
 Is our dear native home, 
 And for the right we come to fight 
 
 Before the ranks of Rome." 
 
 THE Ides of March had come, the date for the great steeple- 
 chase between the horses to be named at the post by the 
 Duke of Jumpover and Sir Jerry Snaffle. The day was not 
 unfavorable, for the sky was tolerably clear overhead, and the 
 brisk March breeze had dried the ground, except in the low 
 places. The Vale was famous for its grass lands, its stiff fences, 
 and its wdde and deep brooks. Timber fences — that is to say, 
 posts and rails — there were next to none ; but the " bull- 
 finches" and ox-fences — mostly double thorn hedges, with 
 ditches on each side — were heavy and thick. The line chosen 
 by the umpires was a noted one for the stiff* fences which 
 would be encountered ; and there was one brook of more than 
 ordinary wddth and difficulty when the stream was swollen, as 
 was the case that day. The distance w^as from four miles and 
 a half to five miles. It was a famous line of country in the 
 times of the old, straightaway steeple-chase courses, which are 
 now totally fallen into disuse and superseded by roundabout 
 courses, mainly devised to enable the spectators to see the 
 horses all the way from a stand. These partly artificial courses 
 are not nearly as well calculated to try the powers of the 
 horses and to test their capabilities as fencers, as the old 
 straight lines were, and a different class of horses are now 
 entered. Still, the danger is quite as great — perhaps greater 
 24 
 
370 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 
 
 — for the pace is stronger, and a tired horse will sometimes 
 fall at a comparatively small fence. This course was not quite 
 straight. The horses started from a field by the roadside, and 
 ran for over half a mile towards the southwest, which brought 
 them two or three fields from the road ; the line then went due 
 west, the fences being very heavy for over two miles. Then it 
 turned northwest for half a mile, and approached the road 
 again at the deepest and widest part of the brook before men- 
 tioned, over which the road was carried by a stone bridge. 
 
 This was a critical part of the race. But there was another 
 very critical point a mile further on, where, within a field of 
 the winning flag, there was a great leap to be taken over, or 
 rather through a very thick double fence, with its ditches, 
 called Barker's Bullfinch. It was a noted place, and many a 
 good horse and bold rider had been brought to grief by it, as 
 they were commonly nearly done up before reaching it by 
 their previous violent and long-continued exertions. The 
 fences over this line of course were numerous as well as heavy, 
 for the fields were not large. But there was this advantage 
 — it was nearly all grass laud, there being but three or four 
 ploughed fields in all the line. What plough there was, how- 
 ever, was heavy, for the ground was the fat, loamy clay of 
 the Vale, the strong land which will grow horse beans, and not 
 the light loam in which barley delights. The attendance of 
 spectators was very great. The match had long been a fruit- 
 ful and favorite topic with the gentlemen of the hunts pre- 
 sided over by the Duke and the Baronet, and many were in 
 attendance from the Pytchley, the Heythrop, and the Quorn 
 hunts. These were all well-mounted men, but they could not 
 hope to keep up with the matched horses except by keeping 
 mainly to the grass on each side of the road, and thus avoid- 
 ing the strongest leaps and some of the distance. The riders 
 of the horses engaged were not allowed to go over a hundred 
 yards along tlie road at any one time, and therefore they were 
 never in it at all, as they would have lost ground by jumping 
 into it. Besides the gentlemen of the hunts, there were many 
 farmers and farmers' sons, well-mounted, and great crowds of 
 foot people. The latter congregated most about the bridge 
 and at Barker's Bullfinch, though there were also many men 
 and boys up in trees all along the line. Those at the bridge 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 371 
 
 saw with a sort of satisfaction the yellow, turbid current rush- 
 ing along between steep banks, partly undermined by the stream 
 and fringed with alder bushes, and chuckled to themselves as 
 they said, " They must be good 'uns to clear this ; one or both 
 will get a ducking." While those who surveyed the thick, 
 leafless, double hedges of Barker's Bullfinch, composed of 
 whitethorn, blackthorn, crab-tree, dwarf maple, and a great 
 variety of briars, were equally well pleased with their own point 
 of vantage, remarking, " A steeple-chase is nothing without 
 falls, and my opinion is that both on 'em 'ull get * croppers' 
 at this here bullfinch." All the line was down the Vale. It 
 was not by any means a flat surface, for the ground was undu- 
 lating, and upon a range of hill to the southward there were 
 many spectators. Upon this hill stood two windmills, and 
 the houses of the millers. All the windows in the houses and 
 the galleries of the mills were occupied by the wives and 
 daughters of the neighboring farmers, and they had a good 
 though rather distant view of the steeple-chase. 
 
 The hour for naming the horses had almost come. The 
 stewards, Sir Harry Plowden and Captain Fane, were in the 
 field, surrounded by many men on horseback and some on foot. 
 There was a buzz of expectation as the Duke of Jumpover 
 came up, accompanied by a number of his select friends, 
 mostly country gentlemen of large estates and pedigrees much 
 more ancient than those in the stud book. The Duke was a 
 handsome man, with frank expression. With him came two 
 very fine, weight-carrying hunters, prepared for the race. He 
 had not declared which he would name, but the attention of 
 the trainer and the glances of his chosen rider, a gentleman of 
 name and fame from Melton Mowbray, indicated to the as- 
 semblage that the chestnut horse Belvoir, a thoroughbred of 
 great size and power, would be the one. The rider, Mr. Coplow, 
 was known to be one of the best gentlemen across a country in 
 England. His fame was much more widely spread than that 
 of Tom Scarlet had ever been, but his knowledge of the Vale 
 and his experience at its very heavy fences was not so large or 
 so thorough as that of the man whose absence the people of 
 the neighborhood began to deplore. The general opinion was 
 that Sir Jerry would name The Bagman and that his rider 
 would be Mr. Stilton, a very good man, but without that in- 
 
372 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 spiration in moments of difficulty, and that magnetic touch 
 upon the reins, at supreme efforts, which informs and revives 
 the horse. These Tom Scarlet was thought by his friends to 
 possess. The Bagman had arrived and Mr. Stilton with a 
 careless air walked up and down near him as he was led along. 
 It was a sight at which Mr. Southdown and the farmers who 
 looked upon Mr. Southdown as an oracle were somewhat dis- 
 turbed. 
 
 The former saw The Bagman, and he saw Mr. Stilton play- 
 ing with his whip, but he did not see Sir Jerry, nor John Bull- 
 finch, nor Ransome, the great man among horsemen, who pre- 
 sided over the famous stud of Lord Jersey, at Middleton Park. 
 Mr. Southdown looked glum, and told his friend from London, 
 a sporting tavern-keeper, who had come down to see the match, 
 that his mind was not made up as to the result. 
 
 " Southdown, things don't look well for your party," said the 
 Londoner. "The Bagman is a good horse, but there isn't 
 enough of him to beat Belvoir, and Mr. Stilton seems to think 
 so. Sir Jerry hangs back. Perhaps he'll forfeit." 
 
 " Sir Jerry never hung back in his life, sir," replied Mr. 
 Southdown. " It wants almost half an hour yet to the time 
 set for naming the horses. They can start anything that was 
 regularly ridden to hounds last year." 
 
 " Ay, I know ; but Sir Jerry has but The Bagman here, 
 and your watch is slow, I think." 
 
 " It's no such thing, sir. Your Lunnon time is fast. 
 You're a good deal too fast in everything. But I shan't argey 
 the p'int," said Mr. Southdown. " What's that?" 
 
 It was a bustle and a cheer from the road, as Lady Snaffle's 
 phaeton with four horses and postilions and an outrider, in 
 the baronet's colors, dark blue and silver, came in sight. 
 These colors had been selected by the Admiral, as representing 
 the ocean out of soundings, and the moonlit surface of the 
 silver sea. There was another loud cheer as the carriage 
 dashed up and Lady Snaffle was recognised. The Duke, Sir 
 Harry, Captain Fane, and others raised their hats. 
 
 " Who's that lady ?" said the Londoner. 
 
 " Who's that lady, sir !" said Mr. Southdown, with undisguised 
 contempt. " Is it possible that you've come down here on this 
 occasion, and don't know the Admiral's daughter, when she 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 873 
 
 appears in state. I think you said, just now, that Sir Jerry 
 would pay forfeit. You're a nice man ! but it ain'-t worth 
 while argeying the p'int with a Lunnoner." 
 
 In the carriage with Lady Snaffle was May Bullfinch, to- 
 gether with her brother. This arrangement, when first pro- 
 posed, did not quite suit Young Jack. He had intended to 
 be on Young Cowslip, to show Lord Doomsday the best line 
 for Blue Peter, but had been overruled, in order that he might 
 stand up and describe to her ladyship the moving incidents 
 of the steeple-chase as they occurred. The postilions had not 
 long pulled up, when Jack Cotswold came dashing along on 
 the road towards the bridge in a gig, with a young woman by 
 his side. 
 
 " Please, my lady," said Young Jack, " there's Miriam and 
 her uncle. And, 6, here's Eose and those twins," he added, 
 looking back. 
 
 There indeed was Cooper in his best uniform, patiently 
 leading a donkey, in whose panniers sat the twins, while Rose 
 strode along by their side in a black velvet bonnet profusely 
 decorated with the blue and silver colors of Sir Jerry Snaffle. 
 
 " How do you do, Cooper," said Lady Snaffle, while May 
 Bullfinch smiled and nodded. 
 
 "I'm hearty, my lady, thanks to you. I've heard the 
 Admiral has hove up anchor, and is standing for this road- 
 stead, under a press of sail. Being in duty bound to report 
 to him, I've come myself, and lent Uose a hand to steer this 
 donkey and take care of the children." 
 
 " As if I couldn't take care of my own twins !" said Rose, 
 with some contempt. 
 
 " But why have you brought them here, Rose ?" said Young 
 Jack. 
 
 " Why have I brought 'em ? Why to let them see good 
 horsemanship. Haven't my twins got as good right to see it 
 as other people's children ? You and Meg Southdown are 
 here." 
 
 Young Jack blushed up to his eyes, and said in a low voice, 
 " O, my lady, let this woman go along. Let Cooper take 
 her away." 
 
 " I'm sure I am willing," said Lady Snaffle, with a low 
 laugh. 
 
374 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 Just then there was a louder cheer than that which had 
 greeted Lady Snaffle's arrival, and it came from the road in 
 the opposite direction. All eyes were turned that way, and 
 from a lane to the right of the road there came six horsemen, 
 followed by a trooping crowd of men, boys and gypsy women, 
 all shouting and clamoring. 
 
 Sir Jerry Snaffle, John Bullfinch, Lord Doomsday and 
 Major Fitzgerald were immediately recognised, but the dark 
 man on John Bullfinch's left hand and the whiskered person 
 on Sir Jerry's right were not, save by Lady Snaffle, May Bull- 
 finch and Young Jack. As the clamoring crowd drew nearer 
 the other parties made out the words, " Scarlet ! Scarlet ! Tom 
 of the Grange !" and Mr. Southdown dashed his spurs into 
 the sides of his horse, crying, " By George ! he's come ! My 
 mind's made up !" 
 
 He was still more excited when he saw behind the gentle- 
 men, a led horse in clothes, beside which Mr. Kansome rode, 
 with the solemn, anxious face he always had when attending 
 a racer of mighty promise on a great day. At a sign from 
 Lady Snaffle, the whiskered man went to the carriage side, and 
 would have remained there bome time had it not been for the 
 expostulations of Sir Jerry and John Bullfinch, The dark 
 man and Ransome proceeded into the field with the horse in 
 clothes between them. 
 
 " What the d — 1 is all this ?" said Sir Harry Plowden. 
 
 *' In the first place, it is Tom Scarlet, and I am glad he has 
 reached home safe and well," replied the Duke. " In the next 
 place he seems to have not only come himself, but to have 
 brought the dark horse about which there have been many 
 rumors in respect to this match." 
 
 " What a d d rascal ! I have got two hundred bet at 
 
 evens with Major Fitzgerald," said one of the Melton Mow- 
 bray men. 
 
 " Rascal !" said the Duke, " nothing of the sort ! The match 
 always contemplated the naming of any horse that was quali- 
 fied by having been hunted with last year. If Sir Jerry 
 Snaffle has been able to get one better than The Bagman it 
 may be the worse for me. I would name a better than Bel- 
 voir if I knew where to find him. I know of no gentleman 
 who would feel called upon to do more than comply with the 
 terms of the match, and this Sir Jerry has done. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 375 
 
 " Exactly !" said Captain Fane. " Our friend here seems 
 to think that Sir Jerry ought to have sent the bellman round to 
 tell the people that he had a better chance to win than some 
 supposed. He may not win. I have known dark horses de- 
 ceive their owners. But here he comes." 
 
 " Sir Jerry," said the Duke, as the Baronet rode up, " I sin- 
 cerely congratulate you upon the arrival of Tom Scarlet. His 
 horsemanship is better know^n to you, but hardly better appre- 
 ciated than by me. He has sometimes hunted with my hounds, 
 and I hope he will again." 
 
 " I thank your grace for him," said Sir Jerry. " He seems 
 to be too busy just now with his neighbors and friends to come 
 here and do it for himself" 
 
 " We suppose you are now ready to name ?" said Sir Harry. 
 
 " I believe so," replied the Duke. " Gentlemen, I name 
 Belvoir, hunted with my own hounds last year. Mr. Coplow 
 will ride him." 
 
 " And I," said Sir Jerry Snaffle, " name the White Horse, now 
 called St. Jo., hunted with the Vale of White Horse hounds 
 last year, as you, Sir Harry Plowden, and you, Captain Fane, 
 will see if you go and look at him." 
 
 " It is needless ; still, we will go and have a look at this 
 champion and rover," said the Duke. " I'm told by Sir Jerry 
 that the horse has been to America, and come back after many 
 adventures among Indians and hunters," he added, after a few 
 words with the Baronet. 
 
 The group moved towards the crowd surrounding the White 
 Horse. The latter was now stripped and being saddled and 
 fitted out by Sassafras and Ransome. His bloodlike appear- 
 ance, and the immense power he displayed — a big horse on 
 short legs — were quickly noted and commented on. 
 
 " You seem to have got him there, Ransome," said the 
 Duke. 
 
 " I think w^e've got a pretty good one, your grace, but the 
 test will tell. If he's as good as he looks, and as Tom Scarlet 
 thinks, Belvoir and Mr. Coplow wdll have hard work to win," 
 Ransome replied. 
 
 The Duke, Sir Jerry and the stewards drew off again, taking 
 Tom Scarlet and John Bullfinch with them. The latter in- 
 vited Mr. Southdown to go also, but that gentleman was the 
 
376 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 subject of another attraction. He had heard of Sassafras from 
 May Bullfinch and Young Jack many times of late ; and now 
 that he was in presence, the ponderous grazier kept close by 
 his side. There was no small contrast between the dark, lithe, 
 black-eyed, and black-haired man of the Far West, and the 
 towering, massive grazier of the midland English vale, Avith his 
 full, ruddy face. Yet they were types of the same race ; the 
 former modified, or rather intensified, by the residence of many 
 generations in the hot summers and bilious autumns of America, 
 
 " See the Duke's horse — that's Belvoir," said Ransome to 
 Sassafras. 
 
 " A grand horse," replied the latter — " a noble specimen of 
 the thoroughbred. But don't you think that for this business, 
 over such a distance of ground and such a difficult country, 
 he is a little too leggy ?" 
 
 " It may be so. He has more daylight under him than the 
 White Horse, though no bigger in frame." 
 
 " That's it. And then, to my mind, St. Jo. is stronger in 
 the back and loins, his big quarters are more turned under and 
 better calculated to send him over, when his fine shoulders 
 lift him into the air. But here comes Tom !" 
 
 Mr. Southdown did not wait for Scarlet and John Bull- 
 finch, but tearing himself, by an effort, from the side of Sassa- 
 fras, he struggled into the midst of a thick cluster of farmers 
 and hunting men, and, mounting his horse, proclaimed, with 
 a stentorian voice and cast of countenance impregnable against 
 all assault : 
 
 " My mind's made up — fully made up !" 
 
 " So is mine !" said an opulent yeoman from the borders of 
 Whittlebury Forest. " Belvoir will win it ! Don't tell me 
 about your White Horse and rider and trainer from America, 
 and other humbug ! I say Belvoir and Coplow will win it !" 
 
 " Dick King," replied Mr. Southdown, " I shan't argey the 
 question. I'll bet fifty guineas Belvoir and Coplow don't win." 
 
 His friend was about to take the bet, but before he had 
 said " Done !" he heard the clear, cutting tones of Sassafras, as 
 he led the White Horse up to the stewards, Tom Scarlet in 
 the saddle, in the blue and silver, and let go of his bridle. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said the man of the West, " here's St. Jo., 
 and here is his rider. Everybody can see them now, and I'll 
 bet a hundred ounces they win this match !" 
 
THE WHITE HOESE OF WOOTTON. 377 
 
 « Who is this man, and what does he mean?" said the Duke 
 to Sir Jerry and Tom Scarlet. 
 
 " He is a friend of mine, yoar grace ; a very gallant, de- 
 voted friend, too," replied Tom. " He is a planter and a great 
 hunter and a lover of good horses. His plantation on the 
 Missouri river is as beautiful a place as you would wish to 
 see — that is, all natural." 
 
 " A planter, eh ! What does he mean by one hundred 
 ounces ?" 
 
 " Ounces of gold, your grace. About four hundred pounds." 
 
 " Can he afibrd to lose it?" said the Duke. 
 
 " Yes ; but he thinks he can win ; and I think so too," said 
 Tom. 
 
 " I'll take his bet though," said the Duke. 
 
 He then walked up to Sassafras and said : 
 
 " Sir, I'll take the bet of a hundred ounces you have pro- 
 posed." 
 
 " All right, your grace ! I'll put my money up into the 
 hands of Mr. Bullfinch here, or anybody's." 
 
 " There is no need, sir. It is perfectly safe with you — as 
 safe as mine is with me." 
 
 With this the Duke mounted his horse ; and St. Jo. and 
 Belvoir being all ready, and Sir Harry Plowden mounted and 
 flag in hand, Sassafras said a few words to Sir Jerry Snaffle, 
 threw himself into the saddle of The Bagman, and galloped 
 away towards the west, over the fields between the flags and 
 the road. And now the impatience and din of the crowd 
 increased, and swelled up like the rush of winds, or the roar 
 of swift-running waters. Some horsemen stole ahead, unwill- 
 ing to leave the neighborhood of the start, especially with so 
 many eyes on them, but fearing that if they did not, they 
 might be away in the rear at the finish. The men and boys 
 in the trees rustled among the twigs, and craned their necks 
 forward. The ladies in the windows and galleries of the mills 
 pressed upon the rails. The postilions of Lady Snaffle's car- 
 riage sat in their saddles, looking over their left shoulders, 
 and with their whips ready to fall. Her ladyship stood up 
 for a moment, then sat down again to speak to May Bullfinch. 
 Then Young Jack cried, shrill and loud, " Off" they go, my 
 lady !" 
 
378 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 HURRAH ! hurrah !" shouted the men and boys in the 
 trees. " Clear the "svay ! By your leave there! Clear 
 the way !" cried the horsemen in the road, spurring forward, 
 and narrowly missing the knocking down of some foot people. 
 
 Crack ! crack ! like the report of two rifles, went the whips 
 of the postilions, and Lady Snaffle's carriage, cheered to the 
 echo as it passed along, was whirled away with the four horses 
 at a gallop. 
 
 While the riders of Belvoir and St. Jo. kept the true line of 
 the course outside the flags, the stewards and many horsemen 
 well mounted, with some not as well mounted as they thought, 
 took the shorter way over the fields and fences, on the in;iide 
 of the flags. The horsemen and foot people streamed along the 
 road so fast that they could hardly look at the contestants 
 away to the left ; but whenever Belvoir and St. Jo. made a 
 good leap, the men in the trees swung their hats and shouted, 
 and the ladies at the windmills wa,ved their handkerchiefs with 
 delight and glee. The incidents were commented upon to 
 Lady Snaffle and JMay Bullfinch by that sharp observer and 
 competent critic. Young Jack. 
 
 " They have got into the straight going, my lady, and are 
 running due west. The pace is improved. They are nearing 
 the big ox-fences of the line. They are just going at the first 
 real rasper. Belvoir clears it. So does St. Jo. ! My lady ! 
 such a jumper. Now the pace is good. Coplow keeps the 
 very crown of a land, while Tom gallops on the south slope of 
 the next. Good judgment that, my lady ; for the sunny side 
 of the lands is better going than the very top in our deep goil, 
 as Mr. Coplow and his horse will find out, Now they are 
 coming to the brook above the bend. It's no great thing of a 
 jump, but it has spilt some already. There are four men in 
 it, this side of the flags, and their horses are loose. Cowslip 
 takes it beautiful ! There's a girl at the windmill leaning 
 over the gallery rail so far, that she'll be clean over directly ; 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 379 
 
 and it's forty feet to the ground. I hope it isn't Meg South- 
 down. Belvoir is across the brook ! So is St. Jo. ! He over- 
 jumped at least six feet, my lady, and is pulling hard. Now 
 the pace is strong. They are coming to the bullfinch, where 
 Tom pounded Lord Doomsday. O, my lady ! O, May ! Coplow 
 only just missed a cropper ! His horse stuck in the middle, and 
 blundered through. Tom rode at it as a bull terrier goes at a 
 badger. The Vv hite Horse smashed through, like a cannon- 
 ball ! It's the best steeple-chase that ever was seen. Now Tom 
 draws up closer to Belvoir. He is at his hip, and forces the 
 pace. My lady, they will soon be at the brook below the 
 bend. Let us be there first, and see the game from the 
 bridge." 
 
 " On, boys, on !" The whips of the postilions smacked, and 
 the steaming horses galloped. The first great crisis of the 
 race was near at baud. The horsemen in the fields sought the 
 road, to avoid the brook at this its widest and most difiicult 
 part. The Duke, Sir Jerry Snaffle, Sir Harry, and John Bull- 
 finch came sweeping by, while the foot people cheered lustily. 
 Near the bridge the press was great. A hulkiug fellow brought 
 the carriage to a standstill, by getting before the leaders in 
 the middle of the road. He caught at the heads of the 
 horses. The postilions swore. Youug Jack stormed. The 
 sailor Cox parted the crowd like a wedge ; caught the fellow 
 by the collar ; with a straight left-handed hit, sent him stag- 
 gering into the ditch, and touched his hat to the Admiral's 
 daughter. Now they had attained the very keystone of the 
 bridge, and over the heads of the foot people saw the yellow, 
 turbid torrent, as it came rushing down towards them. Lady 
 Snaffle looked a little anxious, and May Bullfinch grew paler. 
 About two hundred yards to the south the steeple-chasers were 
 coming to the brook above the bridge. They were nearly 
 neck and neck. The crimson and strawberry leaves of the 
 Duke were nearest, but the blue and silver of the baronet 
 were dearest to the men of the Vale. The interest was intense. 
 The people held their breath. Lady Snaffle and May Bull- 
 finch stood up, while Young Jack was too excited to speak. 
 Tramp! tramp! The very ground seemed to shake as the 
 powerful horses stode on. Belvoir led a trifle. As he came 
 to the bank, and heard the wild rush of the waters, he refused 
 
380 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 the leap, swerved round to the left, and, striking the haunch 
 of St. Jo. with his shoulder just as he was leaving his ground 
 for a grand leap, tumbled him and his rider heels over head 
 into the flood. A shout ! a yell ! a shriek ! May Bullfinch fell 
 back into her seat, covering her eyes with her hands. Lady 
 Snaifle grasped Young Jack by the shoulder. The White 
 Horse was seen gallantly breasting the current, and making 
 for the bank he had meant to reach by his leap ; but his gal- 
 lant rider, helpless, stunned by the hoof of his own horse, was 
 floating down the stream. A man came running down the 
 bank swift as an arrow, and while Lady Snafile's gaze was still 
 upon the patch of blue in the middle of the yellow waters, a 
 dark form cleft the air and plunged into the stream. 
 
 " There ! the man ! the man !" she exclaimed. " I think it 
 was the sailor !" 
 
 " O, no, my lady !" said Young Jack, tearfully, " that was 
 Sassafras. And see, he'll have Tom out." 
 
 Close to the bridge, unseen by the spectators upon it, and 
 by almost every one else. Parkins, half drunk as usual, per- 
 formed a sort of dance, jumping up and down and shouting 
 " He's in, he's in !" Whether his exclamations proceeded 
 from joy did not exactly appear. He had never liked Tom 
 Scarlet before he went to America, and it was doubtful whether 
 he liked him much better now that he found the young man 
 had returned, for the opinion of Parkins in regard to America 
 was not high. Kose Tanner concluded, however, that Parkins 
 was rejoicing over Tom Scarlet's mishap, and while the con- 
 stable continued to shout " He's in, he's in !" she rushed at him 
 crying " Drat that man !" and with a vigorous shove with both 
 hands sent him headlong in himself. Her brother. Cooper, 
 got hold of him as he rose to the surface, and " hauled him 
 aboard," as he called it. 
 
 Coplow had managed to get Belvoir over, and the stout 
 White Horse had attained the west bank farther up, when the 
 powerful arm of Sassafras carried Tom Scarlet to the shore. 
 The blood was running down his cheek. He staggered when 
 set upon his legs, and looked around confused. Sassafras put 
 his mouth to his ear and shouted aloud : 
 
 "Come, Tom, rouse yourself! Pm here! Sassafras! and 
 May Bullfinch is looking on. Put your fingers in your mouth 
 and call up St. Jo." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON, 381 
 
 The young man did as he was told, and at the loud whistle 
 the horse came up. With the assistance of Sassafras, Tom 
 Scarlet was remounted. The seat upon the horse appeared to 
 revive and steady him, while the flow of blood helped to do so. 
 
 " Tom," said Sassafras, " you can win this yet. The other 
 horse is a good way ahead, but he is already sinking, and 
 tires at every stride. I think he'll very likely fall before he 
 gets home. St. Jo. is fresh, and will stand the pressure to the 
 end. Close up gradually. What do you call that last big 
 fence ?" 
 
 " Barker's Bullfinch." 
 
 " Very well ! creep up by degrees, keeping in powder enough 
 to close with him when he uears that. Your horse is much 
 the freshest. You are none the worse for the bath. You 
 know the lay of the land, and I think you'll win it yet. Be 
 cool and steady. When you believe that you hr.ve the race 
 safe cry Cinnamon's war-cry." 
 
 The young man nodded, and away he went with the White 
 Horse. For half a mile the people at the bridge could 
 still see the horses as they galloped over field after field and 
 took the fences, Belvoir with a large lead. Sassafras walked 
 to the bridge and took a station on the western pier on the 
 south side, looking steadily at the W hite Horse, who was going 
 with long and powerful strides. The relative positions of the 
 horses seemed to the crowd unchanged, and neither Lady Snaf- 
 fle nor May Bullfiuch had any hopes of final victory. The 
 experienced eye of Young Jack detected, however, that the 
 White Horse was gaining on the chestnut, and that Mr. Cop- 
 low was beginning to force his horse, and he said, " O, my 
 lady ! O, May ! he gains at every stride. He jumps as strong 
 and as well as he did at the first leap. If it were but a quar- 
 ter of a mile further he couldn't lose it, and there's a chance 
 as it is !" 
 
 " Chance, young squire ! I say it's a certainty," cried Rose 
 Tanner. ." Coplow '11 come down a reg'lar cropper at Bar- 
 ker's Bullfinch." 
 
 " I say, Rose, how do you know^ ?" 
 
 « Well, you see, I consults the stars.'* 
 
 The horses were now out of sight, having passed over a low 
 hill towards the northwest and the last half mile of the course. 
 
382 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 The carriage remained upon the bridge, for there was such a 
 press of horsemen and foot people on the road beyond it that 
 it was almost impassable. Still the figure of the American 
 remained upon the pier, intent upon the northwest, and rigid 
 as a statue carved in granite. At length, over the hubbub 
 and clamor of the multitude, there rose from the distance a 
 wild, shrill, echoing cry, at which Lady Snafile started, and 
 Sassafras jumped to the ground. 
 
 " Oh, that fearful cry," said she. " Some other accident, 
 more dreadful, has happened." 
 
 " No, madam," said Sassafras. " 'Twas the warwhoop of the 
 wild Cheyennes, and Tom has victory in his grasp !" 
 
 " O, my lady ! I know it's true," said Young Jack. " It's a 
 great pity we couldn't see them take Barker's Bullfinch. 
 Please, my lady, let me take Wingfield's horse and go and see. 
 I'll be back with the news in two or three minutes." 
 
 Lady Snaffle would not consent to this, and they remained 
 in uncertainty for some time. Then pouring over the hill, 
 half a mile away, and stretching from one side of the field to 
 the other came a great throng of people on horseback and on 
 foot. Young Jack saw a group marching proudly, as it were, 
 in the centre of the liue. 
 
 " O, my lady, my lady ! O, May, my dear sister May ! It's 
 all right — there they come. Sassafras leads the White Horse, 
 my father rides on one side of him and Mr. Eansome on the 
 other. Tom's afoot — he leans upon Sir Jerry and Major Fitz- 
 gerald, and Lord Doomsday is with them. O, if we had only 
 seen them take Barker's Bullfinch I could die happy !" 
 
 " Better die game. Young Jack," said Kose Tanner, as she 
 marshalled aloug her brother with the donkey and the twins. 
 " If Tom had been drowned he would have died game. If 
 Coplow has broken his neck at the bullfinch he has died game." 
 
 Soon there came spurring by men on horseback, fiery hot 
 with haste, each intent on being first to carry the news to 
 Aylesbury, and shouting " Scarlet, Scarlet for ever ! Sir Jerry 
 and St. Jo. ! He won with his ears pricked." 
 
 " Thank God !" said May. " O, I hope Mr. Coplow is not 
 hurt." 
 
 " Home, home !" said Lady Snaflie, with her handkerchief 
 to her eyes. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 383 
 
 The carriage was wheeled around, and away it went, while 
 Young Jack said : 
 
 " Well, concerning Coplow — I'll lay two to one that it's 
 nothing serious. Some such slight matter as the collar-bone, 
 my lady, or a rib or two, and you know hunting men are used 
 to it. When father was brought home on a hurdle ten years 
 ago he said to the doctor, ' I'm all right. It's Cowslip that 
 I'm anxious about. If young Tom Scarlet will ride over to 
 Middleton for Kansome I shall be easy in my mind respecting 
 the mare.' " 
 
 The narrative of Master Bullfinch was interrupted by the 
 stoppage of the carriage. It soon appeared that Parkins was 
 in the road in such a condition that he might have taken him- 
 self up on the charge of being " drunk and incapable." He 
 had come to the steeple-chase provided with a bottle of gin, 
 and the greater part of this he had swallowed as soon as he 
 was hauled out of the stream by Rose Tanner's brother. He 
 was now brought to the wheel by a couple of young ragamuf 
 fin gypsies, who seemed to enjoy his plight very much. 
 
 " Parkins, what a condition," said Lady Snaffle, " for one in 
 your position ! You have been drinking." 
 
 " Yes, mum, madam, my lady, I has— about two gallons in 
 the bruk." 
 
 " Sir, you are intoxicated !" 
 
 « If water from the bruk will 'toxicate the authorities, my 
 lady, I may as well admit that I be." 
 
 "Sir, you are very drunk," said the lady with difficulty re- 
 pressing an inclination to laugh. 
 
 " I think not, my lady. I'll leave it to Master Bullfinch 
 and these gypsy boys. I was never drunk in my life, except 
 at harvest homes and such like gatherings, where no true man 
 keeps sober. I may be on this occasion a little gammoned, 
 but " 
 
 " Boys," said Lady Snaffle, " take him to the nearest farm- 
 house You shall be paid for doing so. Home ! home quickly !" 
 
384 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XL. 
 
 " Say, why are beauties praised and honored most, 
 The wise man's passion and the vain man's boast? 
 AVhy decked with all that land and sea afford, 
 Why angels called, and angel-like adored ?'•' 
 
 LADY SNAFFLE ^Yas with May Bullfinch before a bright 
 fire in a spacious drawing-room, handsomely furnished, 
 and adorned with fine paintings. They chiefly related to nau- 
 tical subjects, and to those landscapes of woodland, field and 
 stream which were, in a measure, connected with the turf and 
 chase. There was, however, none among them more beautiful 
 and pleasing than the picture presented by the elegant lady 
 and fair young girl who sat side by side and chatted pleasantly 
 over the cheerful blaze. Her ladyship was richly, though not 
 showily, attired, and in her soft armchair she evidently enjoyed 
 luxurious comfort and repose, and was well pleased with her- 
 self and every one else. She tapped the thick carpet with the 
 tip of the dainty slipper just visible beneath the late flounce 
 of her satin dress, and played with the costly ruffles that, fall- 
 ing over her fair hand, vied with the fretwork of the frost, or 
 the delicate tracery of white foam on the falling wave. If 
 there was any exception to the general satisfaction the lady 
 felt, it was caused by the fact, that she had been waiting for 
 her husband some time ; and this was a thing which the wife 
 of Sir Jerry Snaffle frequently had to do. On this occasion, 
 however, his delay had afforded an opportunity for a cosy con- 
 ference and conversation with May Bullfinch — a thing in which 
 her godmother took much pleasure. For some time nothing 
 was heard but the kind tones of the Baronet's lady, or the 
 rustle of her satin skirts, save the sweet voice of May in re- 
 ply ; but Young Jack then entered, and informed the lady 
 that Mr. Ransome had reached the Hall, on his way home to 
 Middleton. Lady Snaffle desired that he might be requested 
 to wait on her for a few minutes, and the trainer soon entered. 
 He was close shaven, booted and spurred, a model of neat- 
 ness, although but lately he had been bespattered with mud. 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 385 
 
 His face was thoughtful and keen, and there was a sort of 
 depth in his hazel eye, as if contemplating great things to come. 
 It was a look well becoming to the man who had in charge 
 the famous mares Trampoline and Cobweb. The former had 
 borne Glencoe, and the last-named had at her foot her mighty 
 son Bay Middleton. Young Jack looked up to the trainer 
 with profound respect ; his sister esteemed him as one of her 
 father's nearest friends ; Lady Snaffle held him in regard as a 
 man of worth and ability, confided in by Lord Jersey, and by 
 his countess. Ransome was a man who did honor to his pro- 
 fession, and though his name was seldom seen in the sporting 
 journals and magazines, as Lord Jersey's horses were sent to 
 New Market for their final preparation at the hands of Ed- 
 wards, he could not well have been spared from that worthy 
 and able fraternity. John Bullfinch had sometimes observed 
 to Lord Jersey, that all the ploughing, harrowing, sowing and 
 tending, was done by Ransome at Middleton, and Edwards 
 merely had to put the sickle in, and reap the harvest. To 
 this the earl usually replied, that what with the brood-mares, 
 sucking foals, yearlings and two-year-olds, Ransome had too 
 much to attend to at Middleton, to be spared for the purpose 
 of looking after the fortunes of two or three-year-olds. " And, 
 besides," the stout earl would say, " Lady Jersey would not 
 hear of it, Farmer Bullfinch ! Without Ransome at the park 
 she would never be satisfied when we are away." 
 
 Now, Lady Snafile was the most intimate country friend of 
 the illustrious countess, who had been one of the most brilliant 
 ornaments of two or three courts, and therefore the deference 
 shown by the trainer was only exceeded by the respect mani- 
 fested in every word and gesture of the baronet's wife." 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Ransome !" she said ; " such a day ! such events !" 
 
 " Wonderful, my lady ! glorious ! I would have given any- 
 thing if Lord Jersey and the countess had been here to see it ! 
 We never had anything so good before. We have often had 
 great steeple-chases, with large fields of horses and much fine 
 riding, but never one that came up to this." 
 
 " What do the gentlemen say, Ransome ? and where is Sir 
 Jerry Snaffle ?" said her ladyship. 
 
 " The gentlemen have all gone to the Barleymow, my lady, 
 to talk over the events of the day! They are all much de- 
 25 
 
886 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO X. 
 
 lighted — that is, all but a veiy few who lost on the race. That 
 class of the people never ought to bet, my lady. If they 
 win they crow and brag over it, as if they had brought the 
 thing off. If they lose, they grumble and look black, and 
 make insinuations. I am sure the Duke's horse was well 
 trained, and Mr. Coplow rode well." 
 
 " Never mind the grumblers, Kansome," said Lady Snaffle. 
 " We are very much pleased. I wish Lady Jersey had been 
 present, just to see a young man of her own neighborhood 
 ride. What is said of Mr. Scarlet ?" 
 
 "I just stayed to hear his health proposed, and help to do 
 honor to it, and then came away, my lady." 
 
 " Who proposed it, and how was it received ?" 
 
 "The Duke proposed it, my lady, in a beautiful little 
 speech. It was received with three hurrahs, such as the fox- 
 hunters can give. The Duke said Tom Scarlet's riding, after 
 the spill at the brook, was the finest thing he ever saw — a 
 mast<n^piece of art." 
 
 " May, my dear, you hear this ! The Duke of Jumpover 
 and Sir Jerry Snaffle are as good judges of noble horseman- 
 ship as any in England. I am so pleased !" 
 
 " So am I, my lady !" said Young Jack ; " and I know, too, 
 that the Duke and Sir Jerry are as good judges as Ransome 
 himself" 
 
 " Yes, indeed," said Lady Snaffle, with a smile. " And now, 
 Mr. Ransome, tell us what was said about the American." 
 
 " Something handsome, my lady, I'll warrant ; but I didn't 
 stay to hear it. There is but one opinion. Everybody likes 
 the man, when they come to know a little of him. I took to 
 him in two hours, for I found out that he had that sound 
 judgment and knowledge and love of horses that goes further 
 with me than anything else. My lady, he's a clever man. 
 He trained that AVhite Horse to perfection. I told them that 
 he couldn't be improved, as soon as I saw him go a four-mile 
 gallop. And Sassafras, to-day, dressed Tom Scarlet's head 
 with equal skill. He's a very clever man, my lady, and if 
 he was to set up in the surgical line about here, where a good 
 many broken heads and limbs are going, especially in the 
 holiday and hunting seasons, he would beat Doctor Dose all 
 h<jllow." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 387 
 
 « Was Mr. Scarlet's head hurt ?" said Lady Snaffle, gently 
 restraining May with a light hand on her arm. 
 
 " Badly cut by St. Jo.'s hoof when they were in the water, 
 which made Tom incapable, my lady ; but Sassafras has 
 dressed it with brandy and brown paper and a few drops of a 
 balsam he got from the Indians. It is now tied up in a red 
 silk handkerchief, and everybody is satisfied that it is a beau- 
 tiful case." 
 
 " Mr. Ransome, I am not so satisfied myself," said Lady 
 Snaffle, with promptitude. " TIk young man should have 
 been brought here. I dare say he was drinking ?" 
 
 "The doctor, my lady — meaning Sassafras! — said a little 
 would do him good, and Sir Jerry concurred in the opinion." 
 
 "It is just like the — sailors, I was going to say; but my 
 father, the Admiral, now that I remember, always prefers rum 
 to brandy for an injury to the head, to be taken as well as 
 applied. I shall send John with a message to Sir Jerry, re- 
 questing him to bring Mr. Scarlet here without delay." 
 
 "If your ladyship pleases," said Young Jack, "it will be 
 better to send 77ie instead of John. If John goes and delivers 
 the message, Sir Jerry will just say to him, 'Very well give 
 my compliments to her ladyship, and tell her we will be there 
 very soon !' and then, my lady, he'il just turn to the Duke 
 or the Major or Sir Harry or Lord Doomsday, and forget all 
 about it. But if I go, my Lady, I shall just say to Mr. Scar- 
 let, ' Tom you are desired by Lady Snaffle to come to the Hall 
 directly ; and. Sassafras, you are requested by my sister to see 
 that he does so, right away r " 
 
 " What's ' right away T " said Lady Snaffle, with a laugh. 
 
 " My lady, it is what I have heard Sassafras and Tom say. 
 It means forthwith, without delay, instanter." 
 
 "Your ladyship had better send Master Bullfinch than 
 John," said Mr. Ransome, laying his hand fondly on Jack's 
 head, " and I will see him mounted and started." 
 
 " Go, then. Master Bullfinch, and bring Mr. Tom Scarlet 
 and Mr. Sassafras here right aiuay r 
 
 With this Lady Snaffle made a graceful and gracious in- 
 clination to Ransome, and the latter with Young Jack left the 
 room. 
 
 " My dear," said Lady Snaffle, " your brother is a very nice, 
 
388 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 clever boy — so prompt and alert. My father is much pleased 
 with him. The Admiral was always very fond of sharp boys, 
 and he wanted to place Master Bullfinch on board of a man-of- 
 war. He has i:)rofessional notions about boys, much better, he 
 says, than those of tutors and schoolmasters. We went once 
 to see a cousin of mine at a great school, and when we came 
 away I said : ' My dear father, I know you are pleased with 
 what we have seen. The young gentlemen are so well man- 
 nered, so well informed, so very nice and polite.' But he 
 said : * Pshaw ! Laura, there ought not to be any such thing 
 as a nice young gentleman ; there is no use for such a person 
 as a nice young gentleman. Here, now, has been a great waste 
 of capital material for reefers and topmen, which last are the 
 hardest to come by.' Reefers are midshipmen, May ; topmen 
 the sailors who 'handle the great sails and man the heavy 
 guns. And the Admiral added: 'Well-mannered, Laura! 
 Nothing to my boys, my young reefers on the quarter-deck of 
 a first-rate, especially when they had been mast-headed for 
 an hour or two. Every one of those boys could make a bow- 
 line knot, and look into the muzzles of the enemy's guns, in 
 broad-side or battery, without winking. Young gentlemen, 
 indeed !' But I said : ' My dear father, these young gentle- 
 men are getting a superior education.' And then, my dear, 
 he burst out : * Superior education ! Fiddlesticks and frying- 
 pans ! The place for a superior education, Laura, is the quar- 
 ter-deck of a fighting ship. Look at me! Your grandfather, 
 a very wise man, sent me aboard at ten years old. Racehorse 
 frigate — Sir Jerry's father was a reefer in her too. I should 
 never have been the man I am if I had gone to school ashore 
 — I know I shouldn't !' And I believe, my dear," Lady 
 Snaffle added, "that my father is quite right on that p»int." 
 
 The lady's reminiscences, touching the opinions and senti- 
 ments of the gallant Admiral Broadside, as good a man as 
 ever heard the rush of the round shot and the whistle of the 
 grape, were cut short by the announcement that the Admiral 
 had himself arrived, and he was ushered in attended by his 
 valet, a superannuated coxswain. The Admiral was tall 
 and portly, very red in the face, with white hair, bleached by 
 sixty years service at sea, and he walked with a limp fr(;m an 
 old wound which had shattered his left hip. He kissed his 
 daughter, shook bands with jMay Bullfinch and said : 
 
THE WHITE HOUSE OF WOOTTON. 389 
 
 " Here I am, Lady Laura, arrived in the nick of time for 
 the steeple-chase." 
 
 " I wish you had seen it, papa," said Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " Seen it, child ! I'll warrant I saw more of it than you did. 
 Finding what was going on when we reached the hill, I stopped 
 the chaise, and by means of a rope and ladder Mainbrace and 
 I hoisted ourselves into the maintop of King's mill, where we 
 could survey everything with the good glasses we always tra- 
 vel with." 
 
 " O, dear papa, how dangerous ?" 
 
 " Dangerous ! nonsense ! No danger at all, unless the mill 
 had blown over, and it was not a reefing breeze. We saw 
 everything." 
 
 « Then you saw Tom Scanet's plunge." 
 
 " Ay ! ay ! They were nearly yardarm and yardarm, when 
 the chestnut horse broached-to, and falling aboard of the 
 White Horse, sent him in." 
 
 " We thought we had lost then, papa, and that the accident 
 might be fatal." 
 
 " Fatal ! It did him good — did him good, Laura. Not so 
 much as if it had been salt water, but some good. The man 
 who jumpad overboard after him is a gallant fellow, too. Who 
 is he?" 
 
 " An American, ray dear sir. A friend of Tom Scarlet's." 
 
 " Ay ! ay ! a sailor, no doubt. I knew he had been to sea, 
 by the way he hauled Tom up the west bank. No landsman 
 could have done it. But you did not see the finish, Laura. I 
 did. It was a stern chase, but Scarlet gradually overhauled 
 the other just this side of Barker's Bullfinch, and when he 
 ranged alongside he rose in his stirrups, flourished his whip, 
 and gave such a halloa as would do credit to the best boat- 
 swain in the service. ' Boarders away !' said Mainbrace ; and 
 boarders it was, for the White Horse shot ahead and went 
 through the bullfinch like a thirty-two pounder. Those who 
 came by the mill road said that the leap w^as measured and 
 found to be thirty-three feet in the clear." 
 
 " And Mr. Coplow, papa! did you see him jump it?" 
 
 " Lady Laura, I saw Coplow — if that's his name — brought 
 up all standing in the middle of it, and I am told that he is 
 hurt. Still, it isn't a man expended, for he has only a shoulder 
 dislocated and a few bruises. Now I'll go to my room." 
 
390 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 Tom Scarlet, Sassafras and Young Jack soon arrived. They 
 were shown into the room, and, alter greetings and compli- 
 ments, Tom Scarlet informed Lady Snaffle that Sir Jerry and 
 the Duke, being very busy, could not leave the Barleymow 
 just at present, but would be there in the course of an hour. 
 He added that they were making a handicap for a steeple- 
 chase, to be run by the best twenty horses in their hunts, and 
 when the weights were satisfactory to the owners of them, they 
 would wait upon her ladyship. 
 
 " And when do you think that will be, Mr. Sassafras ?" said 
 Lady Snaffle, with a pleasant smile. 
 
 " Well, my lady, about this time next year, from what I 
 heard some of the owners say," replied Sassafras. 
 
 " Sir Jerry and the Duke told me they would be here in an 
 hour after we arrived, and desired me to wait for them," said 
 Tom Scarlet. 
 
 " I desire it myself, sir. I wish to hear of your adventures." 
 
 " My lady, they both want him to ride for them. Your 
 ladyship may depend that's it," said Young Jack. 
 
 " It may be the case ; I should not blame them after what 
 we saw to-day. But, Mr. Scarlet," continued Lady Snaffle, 
 " I find that you have not yet given an account of your ad- 
 ventures abroad and on the sqas, even to my dear daughter in 
 the church. May Bullfinch ; and now, if you please, as your 
 head does not pain you, we will hear the narrative. Mr. 
 Sassafras, I delight in narratives of adventure — my father is a 
 sailor— reefer at ten years old in the Racehorse frigate — 
 afterwards an admiral— Rear- Admiral of the Blue ! I believe 
 you are a sailor, sir." 
 
 " No, my lady, that's Cox, the man who brought the totem 
 over," replied Sassafras. " I did once, however, go upon a 
 trip in search of a small island, near the Grand Cayman, 
 where the buccaneers buried a lot of gold." 
 
 " Did you find it. Sassafras ?" said Young Jack. 
 
 " Well, we did and we didn't ! We found the island as 
 laid down by the bearings, but not the gold. My lady, it was 
 a sort of Mother Carey's chicken expedition — what you may 
 call, Miss Bullfinch and Master Bullfinch, a wild-goose chase !" 
 
 "Mother Carey's chicken! O, yes. May, the name the 
 sailors have given to the stormy petrel, a bird never seen near 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 391 
 
 the land, nor in fair weather. Now, Mr. Scarlet, let us hear 
 of your voyages to and fro, your travels by land, moving acci- 
 dents by flood and field, and so on." 
 
 " My lady, I've heard it myself, and Sassafras having been 
 engaged, knows it all," said Young Jack ; " so if your lady- 
 ship will permit us to go into the library, Sassafras can tell 
 me about the expedition after the hoard of the buccaneers, and 
 about Cinnamon and the Sioux, and the bears." 
 
 " Very well. Master Bullfinch, as you please. I suppose 
 Mr. Sassafras is too bashful to hear his own exploits related 
 by his friend to the ladies." 
 
 Young Jack ushered his American friend into the library, 
 and they established themselves before the fire, in large, high- 
 backed chairs, lined with soft green leather. In about an 
 hour Lady Snaffle had heard Tom Scarlet's account of his 
 adventures, and leaving him and May to discourse of love, 
 she proceeded to the library. She found Young Jack and 
 Sassafras engaged in animated conversation, the former speak- 
 ing clear and shrill, and the latter replying with a deep, hearty 
 voice. Neither heard her soft footfall on the yielding carpet, 
 and she could not help hearing and being amused by what was 
 said. It was as follows : 
 
 Young Jack. — " Then, as Cinnamon is the best hunter and 
 the boldest warrior that you have ever heard of, tell me what 
 he is just like as a man.". 
 
 Sassafras. — " You mean in appearance. He is tall, and finely 
 formed for strength, activity and endurance, dark in color even 
 for an Indian, and not much given to fine clothes. He likes 
 his war-paint best ; and his is black and crimson. He is a 
 capital horseman." 
 
 Young Jack. — " But I mean, what is he like in disposition ?" 
 
 Sassafras. — " O ! Well, he's just like one of us — Tom Scar- 
 let and your father and me. There's no diflference between a 
 good Indian and a good white man in natural disposition. 
 They are alike, but in different circumstances, and affected by 
 different belongings." 
 
 Young Jack. — " Do you mean to say that the wild Indian 
 chief of the plains and Rocky Mountains is like my father ?" 
 
 Sassafras. — In disposition ? yes — very much like him ! And 
 in courage, generosity and simple nobility of character he'a 
 
392 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 just like Sir Jerry Snaffle and this Duke. Now, don't go and 
 tell Lady Snaffle I said this, for I want her good opinion, and 
 ladies are naturally prejudiced against Indians from hearing 
 that the warriors maltreat their wives. It isn't the real truth ; 
 but then there's a color for the assertion, especially as regards 
 the bands who loaf about the settlements and get drunk." 
 
 Lady Snaffle was about to come forward and speak, but 
 Young Jack went on with great animation. 
 
 Young Jack. — " You will, of course, tell Cinnamon all about 
 us, when you and he arrange for the presents to be sent over ?" 
 
 Sassafras. — " Oh, he's heard about the most prominent. The 
 chief understands a hundred times as much English as he can 
 speak, and he heard Tom Scarlet and Frangois talking by the 
 hour about your sister and your father and Sir Jerry and Lady 
 Snaffle." 
 
 Young Jack. — "And about me, too?" 
 
 Sassafras. — " No doubt you were mentioned ; but, you see, 
 the Indians think nothing of a boy until he has killed an elk, 
 a bear or a buffalo, or drawn blood from a man. But he'll 
 hear a good deal about you when I meet him again, and as 
 Miriam's your staunch friend, she'll fix the chief for you when 
 she sees him." 
 
 Young Jack. — " Ay ! but the mention of me to the chief 
 will come best, in the first place, from you. Sassafras, because 
 you were on the war-path with him against the Sioux. But 
 now tell me — as Cinnamon has heard about Sir Jerry and 
 Lady Snaffle — let me know what he thinks about my lady. 
 He may be a little prejudiced, too, you know." 
 
 Sassafras. — "The d — 1 a bit. Young Jack! I never heard 
 him say v;hat he thinks of her. I dare say nobody else ever 
 did. It is not his custom to speak of such things. He's a 
 man of few words, very few." 
 
 Young Jack. — " I know ! like Mr. Southdown — but he talks 
 as much as anybody else when he feels inclined, and is no way 
 backward of giving his mind about other people." 
 
 Sassafras. — " I never heard Cinnamon say anything of Lady 
 Snaffle, but I can tell well enough what he thinks of her. 
 She is to him just about what the Queen Adelaide of England 
 is to the chiefs and head men of the tribes north of the Cana- 
 dian line. He pictures her as something great, beautiful and 
 good ; and he's right !" 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 393 
 
 The lady had heard too much to speak now, and yet she 
 couki not retreat. A blush of pleasure, but something of em- 
 barrassment mingled with it, mantled on her cheeks and tinged 
 her neck. She knew not what to do, and the conversation be- 
 tween the others went on. 
 
 Young Jack. — " I may tell her ladyship what you say about 
 that Sassafras." 
 
 Sassafras. — " No ! no ! not on any account ; but it's all true, 
 though." 
 
 Young Jack. — " I will tell May." 
 
 Sassafras. — " We will compromise this matter. You shall 
 tell your sister after I am gone. If you must tell somebody 
 before then, tell Tom Scarlet and Miriam." 
 
 Young Jack. — " What's the use of that, when they know it 
 already ? But now as to those presents — I am not to be for- 
 gotten." 
 
 Sassafras. — " O, no ! You shall be remembered." 
 Young Jack. — " A pair of elks for Sir Jerry and Lady 
 Snaffle; another pair for the Duke and Duchess; a buffalo 
 bull and cow for my father ; but the bear, the great grizzly 
 bear, is to be sent to me ? Remember that. Sassafras." 
 
 Sassafras. — " The elk and the buffalo will be all right. We 
 could send a small drove of each, upon a pinch, if there was 
 ship room. But a great grizzly bear is an ugly customer 
 aboard, and the cotton ships roll so. I'm thinking that you 
 had better have a cinnamon bear. It's more rare, more hand- 
 some, and, I reckon, more of a curiosity in natural history." 
 Young Jack (with discontent and vexation). — " Sassafras, a 
 cinnamon bear won't do for me. I don't want a handsome 
 bear. I don't care about natural history. I read the natural 
 history of this country, and a good deal of it is all humbug. 
 I want a great grizzly bear, like the one you and Cinnamon 
 killed at the pass of the Rocky Mountains." 
 
 Sassafras. — " I see you know it all. Master Bullfinch. AVell, 
 Cinnamon and I must have a pow-wow over it, and by bring- 
 ing in Pierre Langlois and his agents at Orleans, I dare say it 
 can be done." 
 
 Youiu Jack. — " Thank you. Sassafras. And if you want to 
 send over any animal for its beauty, send it to Meg South- 
 down. A very nice girl. Sassafras — she nearly fell out of the 
 
394 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 windmill to-day, while lookiDg at Tom's riding. And, Sassa- 
 fras, there is one thing more I want to say." 
 
 Sassafras. — " Very well, say it ! I like to hear you talk." 
 
 Young Jack — " \Vheu you are married to Miriam, and have 
 reached your plantation at St. Jo., she will be four or five 
 thousand miles from all her relatives and old acquaintances 
 and friends. But we shall be glad for all that, Sassafras ; be- 
 cause we shall know that, come what, come may, you will 
 always love her and cherish her. Miriam has always been a 
 good girl. I know the gypsies well, and I am sure of it." 
 
 Sassafras (red in face, and with lightning in the eyes). — " O, 
 Young Jack ! there's more gold in your heart than the bucca- 
 neers buried near the Grand Cayman. O, my boy! you shall 
 have the big bear, if I'm obliged to come over to bring him my- 
 self!" 
 
 The Western man grappled the English lad to him with a 
 Bort of fond hug, and as he did so Lady Snaffle retreated 
 towards the door. Sassafras rose, and began to apologize, 
 although he did not know for what. But the lady then came 
 forward with a smile, as though she had but lately entered, 
 and extending her hand said : " I have heard of your gal- 
 lantry. May I, too, call you friend ?" 
 
 It is very likely that Sassafras felt more overcome just then 
 than he had ever done at the warwhoop of the Sioux and 
 Blackfeet ; for even Young Jack was either unable to understand 
 what he said in reply to the baronet's lady, or he had, when 
 questioned by his sister May and by Miriam Cotswold, unac- 
 countably forgotten it. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI. 
 
 ■ We were very, very merry, 
 As we went to the ferry, 
 For all our men were drinking j 
 There were three men of mine, 
 Two of thine, and three more 
 Men were belonging 
 To old Sir Thorn of Lyne, 
 And all our men were drinking.' 
 
 WHEN the company at the Barleymow broke up on the 
 evening of the day on which the steeple-chase was run, 
 not a few of them were in case to sing the old catch quoted 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 395 
 
 above. Still, they were steady on their legs and in their sad- 
 dles, for the sportsmen and three-bottle men of that age were 
 not easily shaken. Sir Jerry Snaffle was accompanied to the 
 Hall by the Duke of Jumpover, Sir Harry Plowden and Major 
 Fitzgerald. Lord Doomsday excused himself; but from John 
 Bullfinch and Mr. Southdown, old and opulent tenants of his 
 own, and freeholders in their own right, the Baronet would 
 take no denial. Lady Snaffle received them, and the Duke, 
 advancing, said : " I am requested, by many gentlemen, to 
 thank your ladyship for honoring us with your presence at the 
 steeple-chase to-day. We were all much gratified. The pres- 
 ence of the ladies on such occasions is always appreciated." 
 
 " The ladies, your Grace, are pleased with the sports in 
 which our countrymen delight and excel. At steeple-chases 
 there are few, for but a small part of them is usually to be 
 seen. On the flat, however, we take the field in force ; and 
 while we rejoice in the success of our favorites, our regrets 
 do not last very long when they lose. I was never before so 
 excited as on this occasion. At one time Miss Bullfinch and 
 I wished ourselves away. At the brook it was a fearful scene 
 for a few moments, and we feared the worst, my Lord Duke ; 
 but in the instant of great peril we saw Mr. Scarlet rescued 
 by the strength and skill of his friend here. It was grand, 
 but terrible." 
 
 " It was, my lady ; and no one rejoiced in the safety of Mr. 
 Scarlet more than I," said the Duke ; " but I hardly bargained 
 for the defeat of my horse afterwards. The presence of mind, 
 judgment and resolution of Mr. Scarlet, displayed after the 
 accident, equalled the daring of his friend at the moment of 
 his danger." 
 
 " And were a good deal more difficult to command, your 
 grace," said Sassafras. 
 
 " I dare say they were, for I understand feats of daring and 
 perilous adventure have been frequent with you. Mr. Scar- 
 let's splendid riding at the finish routed me. All is lost but 
 honor, Lady Snaffle. I have lost the stakes to Sir Jerry, a 
 hogshead of Burgundy to Major Fitzgerald and a hundred 
 ounces of gold to Sassafras." 
 
 " But not your good humor, duke," said the major. " Now 
 there is a party from Melton gone ofi" in the sulks on account 
 
396 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 of two hundred guineas I won of him. He had said some- 
 thing about the bad taste of gentlemen acting as stewards who 
 had bets on the event, and but for Sir Jerry I should have 
 requested him to explain what he meant, in which case an invi- 
 tation to a morning walk in one of the sequestered glades of 
 Wootton woods might have followed. But 'twas a glorious 
 day, my lady ; a Waterloo for our hunt. I would have lost 
 my other arm sooner than have missed it." 
 
 " A loss we could not afford, major," said Lady Snaffle. 
 " What would the ladies do if you had no 'longer an arm to 
 offer?" 
 
 " Your ladyship is right, as you always are. I need it for 
 the service of the ladies, and for the reaching of me glass of 
 wine or punch." 
 
 There had been some general conversation, during which 
 Mr. Southdown and Young Jack had got Sassafras a little on 
 one side, and were putting questions touching bufialo bulls, 
 bears and Indians, when Lady Snaffle crossed to Sir Jerry and 
 said something in a low tone. 
 
 "By all means! It is kind and proper," said the baronet. 
 
 Lady Snaffle turned to Sassafras and said : " There is a 
 young person I should like to see soon — this evening, if pos- 
 sible. I mean Miriam Cotswold. If she is at hand, with your 
 permission, I will send for her." 
 
 " My lady, she was on the road, in a gig, with her uncle," 
 said Young Jack. " The camp is in the hollow, close to Sir 
 Jerry's ash spinney." 
 
 " I am grateful to your ladyship," said Sassafras. " A few 
 words of counsel and encouragement from your ladyship will 
 cheer her and do her good." 
 
 " Then I will send John." 
 
 " If your ladyship please," said Young Jack, loud and brisk, 
 " it will be better to send me. The gypsies do not know John, 
 and he does not know them. I know them all, men, women, 
 lasses and children — from Dark Janet's mother to Rose Tan- 
 ner's twins." 
 
 There was a laugh from the gentlemen and Lady Snaffle 
 smiled. The man of few words rose with much gravity, and 
 standing at his full height, with his great bulk displayed, he 
 prepared to address her ladyship. At any other time he would 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO N. 397 
 
 not have ventured upon a speech to her, but he had virtually 
 nominated Sir Jerry for the county, and what was more he had 
 imbibed a great many glasses of gin and water at the Barley- 
 mow. 
 
 "My lady," said Mr. Southdown, " the gentlemen laughed 
 at what Young Jack said, but it is really no laughing matter. 
 Among the gypsies there are some rum customers, as the keep- 
 ers and constables find. Now, Young Jack knows them all, 
 and he is a good boy. Sassafras, my lady, a man of large ex- 
 perience in boys and what not, agrees with me in this." 
 
 Her ladyship bowed, and looked archly at the Duke, then 
 with a smile at May Bullfinch and Tom Scarlet. The latter 
 was rather red in the face, and John Bullfinch had attempted 
 to pull Mr. Southdown back. But the man of few words stood 
 like a tower, and went on : 
 
 " I say, my lady, that Jack's suggestion is good, and it isn't 
 the first time that one of the Bullfinches has aided this house 
 in council or battle. On the monument to the four baronets 
 of this family who were killed in the wars of the Koses, it is 
 stated that when they mar^-hed to battle along with the stout 
 Earl of Warwdck, the Bullfinches always Vvent with 'em hun- 
 dreds strong." 
 
 "Southdown, you are right ; the family is as old as my own 
 in the county," said Sir Jerry. 
 
 " I know^ I'm right ; my mind's made up on the p'int, your 
 honor. If it was not, I should not venture to go on in this 
 way to her ladyship. The Bullfinches being of a good old 
 family, and John being a tenant of Sir Jerry's, as well as hold- 
 ing his own farm of Hawk'ell, when May was christened your 
 ladyship stood godmother to her. When Young Jack was 
 christened I stood godfeyther to him. A year after that my 
 youngest daater, Meg " 
 
 " Margery, Mr. Southdow^n, a beautiful old English name," 
 said Lady Snaffle. 
 
 " Yes, her mother and sisters call her Margery, but 1 call 
 her Meg, my lady, and so does Young Jack. When Meg was 
 christened, John Bullfinch stood godfeyther to her. Well, my 
 lady and gentlemen all, what naturally follows ? Sassafras, 
 as good a man as ever put boot in stirrup, means to marry 
 Miriam Cotswold. Tom Scarlet, another out-and-out good man, 
 means to " 
 
398 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 Lady Snaffle interposed and prevented the grazier from com- 
 pleting the sentence. 
 
 " Well, then, my lady," said he, " I'll come to the real p'int. 
 Here's Young Jack ! as good a boy as ever was — capital rider, 
 and the best judge of the p'ints of a horse or a bullock, of his 
 age, in these Midland counties. They may have boys in Lun- 
 non who know more, or in Oxford college." 
 
 " Sir, they have got none who know any more anywhere, 
 except aboard the men-of-war," said the Admiral, stalking in 
 with Mainbrace in close attendance. " My sentiments on this 
 subject are well known to my daughter, Lady Snaffle, also to 
 Sir Jerry, whose father went to sea at fourteen in the Sea- 
 horse. I was ten." 
 
 "Very well. Admiral and my lady, and gentlemen all, 
 Young Jack being an excellent boy — pattern to the youth of 
 the country side, and a real good bred 'un, and my youngest 
 daater Meg being a good girl, comely lass, and so on, my mind's 
 made up. -John BuUiineh's mind's made up. So is my wife's. 
 If your ladyship has no objection, when the young people 
 come to years of — of what you call it " 
 
 " Discretion," said Young Jack. 
 
 "Ay, to years of discretion, their minds will be made up." 
 
 Lady Snaffle shook Mr. Southdown's hand and patted Young 
 Jack on the head, whereupon the grazier said, " I was agoing 
 to say something touching the wedding between " 
 
 "Meg and me?" said Young Jack. 
 
 " No, between May and Tom Scarlet, who " 
 
 Mr. Southdown was here interrupted by John Bullfinch, 
 and he concluded somewhat abruptly by recommending that 
 Young Jack should be sent for Miriam. 
 
 " And for company's sake, if Lady Snaffle pleases, I will go 
 with him," said Sassafras. 
 
 " A moment," said the Duke. " When you return from the 
 camp I shall be gone. Before you leave England I should 
 like to show you my horses and hounds. Visit me. I will 
 mount you well. Do you know that you are unlike the Amer- 
 icans of books and of the stage ?" 
 
 " Duke, I never met a man in America, or anywhere else, 
 who was not unlike them, and Tom Scarlet will say the same," 
 replied Sassafras. " That which I have seen in books and on 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 399 
 
 the stage, as the language and manners of Americans at home 
 is just about as much like them as what goes on in the Punch 
 and Judy show is like life as I see it here in England. Be- 
 sides, there is fun in the Punch and Judy, but none in this 
 kind of books and acting." 
 
 " I suspect you are right in that." 
 
 " If your Grace and Sir Jerry Snaffle could visit America 
 and join me at St. Jo., we might have fine sport among the elk 
 and buffalo, to say nothing of the bears, which are large and 
 fierce. With Cinnamon and some of his young men for guides 
 and escort, we could hunt the parks of the E,ocky Mountains, 
 and shoot where a white man has hardly ever fired a rifle 
 shot." 
 
 « I thank you. Sassafras," said the Duke. " The offer is a 
 tempting one, but we should find it almost impossible to spare 
 the time. Visit me if you can, and be assured I shall always 
 wish you well." 
 
 After a drive of four or five miles in one of Sir Jerry 
 Snaffle's numerous vehicles. Sassafras and Young Jack drew 
 up near the camp. The tents were pitched and the fires were 
 blazing brightly in a sheltered glen, bounded on one side by a 
 thick growth of young ash trees, on the other by clumps of 
 gorse. Sassafras jumped out, and at the same moment two or 
 three young gypsies, the scouts of the tribe, came out of the 
 fern and underwood and saluted him with a sort of shy defer- 
 ence as he passed on towards the tent of their chief. 
 
 About half an hour later he reached the Hall with Miriam 
 and Young Jack. Lady Snaffle's footman received them, and 
 in a few minutes her maid advanced to conduct Sassafras and 
 Miriam to her ladyship's cabinet. The lady's maid was a 
 brunette, rather small, but with a well-rounded and graceful 
 figure, handsome features, and deep, black eyes. She was a 
 favorite of Lady Snaffle's. In fact, this young girl had been 
 brought up at the Hall. Her grandfather, a sailor, who had 
 married a Spanish girl in the Indies, had been killed at the 
 battle of the Nile. The widow and her daughter found 
 refuge on the Admiral's estate when Lady Snaffle was a girl. 
 The daughter married one of the Admiral's coxswains, a 
 younger man than Maiubrace, and Miss Kitty Puffle was their 
 child. What passed in Lady Snaffle's cabinet in the presence 
 
400 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 of May BullfiDch, Miriam Cotswold and Sassafras, the lady's 
 maid did not know. Slie assured the hou.sekeeper, the cook 
 and the butler, however, that the interview must have been 
 very touching as well as long, for when Sassafras and Miriam 
 came out it was plain that she had been crying. She was 
 then, however, calm again, and looking very well content and 
 happy. "And the American," Miss Ruffle continued, "looked 
 very much pleased. As indeed he ought to be. for he will 
 have the countenance of my lady in marrying, he owns an 
 estate of hundreds of acres in America — thousands, Master 
 Bullfinch says — and he has won a hundred ounces of gold 
 from the Duke." 
 
 " Then, miss, he ought to be ashamed of himself," said the 
 butler. 
 
 Later in the evening Lady Snaffle inquired of Sir Jerry 
 where he had left her father. " My lady," said Sir Jerry, 
 " the Admiral has left me, and taken the Major with him. 
 He sent for the tojDman Cooper, and the sailor Cox, and is 
 now in his room expounding the rules of the service and 
 fighting the Battle of Trafalgar over a huge bowl of rum- 
 punch compounded by his man." 
 
 CHAPTER XLII. 
 
 "Through the house give glimmering light. 
 By the dead and drowsy fire, 
 Every elf and fairy sprite 
 
 Hop as light as bird from brier." 
 
 "Thus passeth yere by yere, and day by dav. 
 Till it fell once, in a morne of May." 
 
 "When the merry bells ring round, 
 And the jockund rebecks sound 
 To many a youth and many a maid 
 Dancing in the chequer'd shade." 
 
 ONCE again stout John Bullfinch sat in his great arm- 
 chair, alone, near the middle watch of the night. His 
 daughter, May, the good, the fond, the bright, the beautiful, 
 was to be married the next day, and John was full of thought 
 and reflection. He recalled all the stages of her growth and 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 401 
 
 being, from infancy and prattling, toddling childhood to that 
 very hour — that budding hour of womauhood, when she was 
 so like her mother, as he had courted and married her more 
 than twenty years before. The same sweet face and wealth of 
 clustering hair ; the same lithe, rounded figure ; the same glad 
 and kind disposition. The fire had dwindled low upon the 
 hearth, and all was still. The great mastiff. Fury, sat upon 
 her haunches, and with her deep-set eyes looked up into her 
 master's face, as though she knew they were about to part with 
 the Rose of Hawk'ell — the one fair daughter of the brave old 
 house. She put her head upon the farmer's knee, and when 
 the clock struck twelve uttered a low growl, as if to protest 
 against the interruption of the solemn silence. Soon she rose 
 ^nd walked gravely and silently to the door. The farmer, follow- 
 ing, opened it. The light of the May moon and the song of the 
 nightingale from the bosky blackthorn grove came rushing 
 into the house. A step was heard, and then John Bullfinch 
 saw the erect form of the keeper, as he came along by the 
 hawthorn hedge. 
 
 " Dick, this is kind, very kind and thoughtful !" said John, 
 as they passed into the house. 
 
 " I thought," said Moleskin, putting his gun gently down, 
 "that you might not object to see an old friend of the family 
 to-night. To-morrow there will be many people here." 
 
 " Nobody who'll be more welcome than you, Dick." 
 
 The keeper shook John's hand, and there was a curious 
 movement of the muscles about the mouth and at the corners 
 of his eyes, as if the cast-irou visage was being acted on by 
 the heat and glow within. 
 
 " Having made my rounds and found all reasonably safe," 
 said he, " I determined to walk over here. I never sleep 'o 
 nights. When you go to bed I shall keep ward here, and can 
 call you betimes for the preparations of the morning." 
 
 " I have no inclination for bed," said John. " I have been 
 sitting here listening to the ticking of the clock, and thinking 
 of all May's life and pretty ways, and what she has been to 
 me, and everybody else in this house, since the sad day I lost 
 her mother. You know she is just like her mother ; and it 
 almost seems as if I was going to lose her over again. Yet 
 26 
 
402 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 there's no reason to doubt May's happiness with Tom Scarlet, 
 is there ?" 
 
 " None at all. My opinion is, that they'll be very happy. 
 She has that winning way with her that'll always prevail 
 with him ; and mark my words, John, she'll rule her hus- 
 band ! Therefore, they'll be very happy." 
 
 " Sir," said John, " you speak like an ignorant old bachelor." 
 
 " Very likely. I tell you I conclude that happy will be 
 their lot, from the fact that she'll rule him. The lightest 
 touch on the bridle and he'll obey the bit. No more saunter- 
 ing and dawdling along by the cover sides o' moonlight nights 
 when the leverets play and the pheasants crow upon the 
 larches. No going out w'ith Gypsy Jack and Rose Tanner's 
 man to dig out badgers. No more goings off to America* 
 without so much as by your leave. Still, I can understand' 
 your feelings. She will be looked up to hereafter more as 
 Tom's wife than your daater. The preserve is poached into, 
 you see. On the other hand we may say, * A mantrap has gone 
 off, and he's caught for life.' That's how things stand, eh ?" 
 
 " Another time I should have been angry," said John. 
 " Mantrap !" 
 
 " If you could get into a passion and blo'V somebody up 
 sky-high, it would do you good," said the keeper. " Where's 
 Young Jack ?" 
 
 " He went up-stairs with May. They went hand in hand," 
 replied John. " I heard them talking since, and was twice at 
 the stair-foot, softly. I wouldn't have stopped them in their 
 conversation for the world. It was all about me, Dick. The 
 boy mentioned Tom, once or twice, as near as I could make 
 out, but May's talk was of her father ?" 
 
 " It was natural," said the keeper. " She is about to leave 
 you, in a measure ; and her heart clings to her father, though 
 she is about to have a husband to cleave to. Then a woman 
 can have but one father ; whereas, though I dare say it never 
 occurred to May, she may have two or three husbands before 
 she has done." 
 
 " If you talk like that I would prefer to be alone again," 
 said John. 
 
 " Sitting here all alone, in the middle of the night, has not 
 been good for you," said Moleskin. " It has made you mel- 
 ancholy." 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 403 
 
 " Serious, but uot melancholy," replied John. " It did not 
 appear to me that I was alone. My children were above-stairs, 
 and I felt as though the spirit of their mother, my wife, was 
 near — come back to comfort me, and be as a guardian angel 
 to her daughter at this time. You will think this a strange 
 fancy of mine, but I had it strong." 
 
 " Not so strange," replied Moleskin. " I am myself a lonely 
 man, and pass many nights in the still woods or over the em- 
 bers in the solitary lodge ; yet it often seems at such times that 
 I am not all alone. Considering what a good woman — one 
 of ten thousand — your wife was, and how she loved you and 
 her children with all her heart, I think that at this time she 
 may be near." 
 
 There was a silence of some minutes after this, broken by 
 John Bullfinch : 
 
 " You mustn't leave the house in the morning. There will 
 be people enough about, but I want you and Ransome ; he is 
 to be here to breakfast. Southdown will not come so early, 
 but his wife and daughters will drive over betimes, to take 
 charge of May. Mrs. Hickman and Mary will also be here." 
 
 " I have come to stay," said the keeper. " My best things 
 are in the pockets of this shooting-coat, and ten minutes in 
 your room will be all I shall want. But now about Tom — 
 how does he seem to stand it?" 
 
 " Wonderful ! wonderful !" said John. " He was here till 
 ten, and would have stayed till now, mayhap, if he had had 
 his own way. He's very cool and pleasant, and not at all 
 bashful." 
 
 " He never was, that I know of," said the keeper. 
 
 " Yes, he was ; not in a general way, but I remember when 
 he would sit and look at May, and have never a word to say 
 to her, though he could talk glib enough to me. I think he's 
 a little disappointed, because Sassafras couldn't stay. I would 
 give a twenty-pound ijote myself to have him here." 
 
 " To my mind, he's just as well away," said Moleskin. ''The 
 man himself is a good man, straightforward in manner and 
 {action — word as good as bond ; but " 
 
 "But w^hat, sir? I like the man, and you had better not 
 let Southdown hear you say anything against him. If you 
 do, you'll find that his mind is made up." 
 
404 THE WHITE HORSE OF WO OTTO K. 
 
 " The man himself is a man I would trust anywhere," said 
 Moleskin, " even in the best preserves in October, though he's 
 a dead shot, and could cut a pheasant down with a rifle ball 
 off the tallest roost, every time ; but I can't answer for some 
 of his cronies. As long as he was here I had little rest. 
 Gypsies, roving sailors, and other fellows, whose presence 
 bodes no good to the health of the game, were always straying 
 about. Out of respect for Sir Jerry and you, and considering 
 that he was well liked by the ladies, I said nothing ; but that 
 gypsy camp was here too long at one time. Then that Cox 
 and Jim Cooper, instead of going off to blue-water and stay- 
 ing there, as they promised to do, they comes to an anchor, as 
 they called it, in this neighborhood, and got three or four 
 more like themselves, drinking and skylarking, and setting a 
 bad example generally. When the American went the whole 
 covey took wing. The American was well enough. I liked 
 him. He had a very true eye, and the proper insight into the 
 ways of birds and animals ; but he was not up to the nature 
 of our English scamps." 
 
 "It could hardly be expected," said John. "He associated 
 with no one, to speak of, except Tom and Southdown, and you 
 and me." 
 
 " Didn't he ! I say that when occasion offered, or chance 
 threw them in his way, he was well met by every poacher, 
 fighter and loose-liver in these parts. I never told you of the 
 supper they gave him at the Running Horse, over by Heyford 
 Leys. I have it from Lord Jersey's keeper that every known 
 scamp in Buckinghamshire, Oxfordshire, Northamj^tonshire 
 and Warwickshire was present. That fellow Tom Barton had 
 come up from Warwickshire Avith one Ford, who has been in 
 America — known |X)acher3 both, as the keepers of the Duke 
 of Grafton and Lord Southampton are well aware. After 
 being introduced to Sassafras, this fellow Barton proposed that 
 they should do honor to the Crown an^ to Major Fitzgerald 
 and the Admiral, by being presided over by the Army and 
 Navy. So they put the recruiting sergeant of the Fusileers 
 into the cheer. If he had only enlisted the company there 
 and then, it would have been a good thing. Jim Tanner was 
 vice-president, and the fun was fast and furious. The fact is 
 they drank everything the landlord had in the house, and at 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 405 
 
 break of day brought off a little battle, for a sovereign a side, 
 between two of the Serjeant's new recruits. The keeper at 
 Middleton says that, next to the American, the most respect- 
 able man in the room was Jack Cotswold." 
 
 " Wasn't Tom Scarlet present ?" said John. 
 
 " He was not. You'll observe that since his engagement to 
 your daughter was made public, and the wedding generally 
 spoken of, he has been at your house every night." 
 
 " It is true," said John, rising. " Now, Dick, I'll go to bed. 
 Call me, softly, at break of day." 
 
 " Break of day will be here in no time." 
 
 " The sooner the better. Call me at the earliest flushing of 
 the dawn." 
 
 Morning bright and beautiful ! A flitting up and down of 
 beauties just as bright, about the young bride's chamber. Mrs. 
 Southdown and her two eldest daughters had arrived in fine 
 array. Mrs. Hickman and pretty Mary had come in brave 
 attire. And there were other ladies and young maidens, 
 pretty and fluttering, talking in hasty half whisperings. The 
 toilet of the bride began. One of Sir Jerry Snafiie's carriages 
 drove up and the housekeeper and lady's maid stepped out of 
 it. The old lady, stifl' and stately in brocade, curtesied with 
 antique ceremony to the other ladies as she entered the bride's 
 room. Miss Ruflle miuced daintily in, and with sparkling 
 eyes surveyed aud comprehended everything. The brides- 
 maids, already dressed, and much too elegant and helpless to 
 be of assistance to their principal, were favored with a nod 
 of approval. The other ladies, endeavoring by advice and 
 counsel to direct Patty, the housemaid, in her feeble efforts 
 to bind and compel May's luxuriant tresses, were not so re- 
 warded, for Miss Ruflle stared and said, " O !" 
 
 Had Mrs. Southdown been gifted with the powers of her 
 husband, she would, no doubt, have replied to this exclama- 
 tion ; but she was not. Besides, the stout and rosy lady w^as 
 " worrited" about her youngest daughter, who had been left 
 at home by her father's express command, to come with him. 
 Mrs. Southdown had remonstrated, and pointed out the fact, 
 that Margery was the fourth and youngest bridesmaid, but 
 her husband had replied : " My mind's made up ! John Bull- 
 finch will never let his daater leave for the church before I 
 get there." 
 
406 THE WRITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK. 
 
 So, uuable to reply to Miss Euffle's exclamation, Mrs. South- 
 down stood ^Yith a ribbon in one hand and a frill in the other, 
 and looked at the black-eyed invader. She had not long to 
 look, for by virtue of certain pearls, certain laces, certain 
 wreaths, certain satin shoes, etc., derived from Lady Snaffle, 
 " lessor of the plaintiff," as Mr. Doublefee would have called 
 her. Miss Kuffle brought her action of ejectment, Kitty Doe v. 
 Rachel Roe et al., and, taking possession of the bride, pro- 
 ceeded to adorn her according to her own art and mystery. 
 
 Mr. Southdown pulled up his gig at Hawkwell, near a 
 group of about half a dozen of the cousins of John Bullfinch, 
 who were standing in the morning sunshine, talking, not of 
 bridals, but of the condition of the crops and the state of the 
 markets. They were florid, festive-looking men, with the large 
 noses and strong jaws of the family ; all were booted and 
 spurred, and all had nosegays of Mayflowers in their button- 
 holes. John Bullfinch, Ransome and Moleskin had rushed 
 out at the sight of the gig, and they exclaimed, cousins and 
 all, " Late, Southdown !" as he pulled up. 
 
 " Late be hanged ! I shan't argey the p'int ! I ain't late, 
 but still I see no use in wasting time in argeymeut," said Mr. 
 Southdowm, taking John's arm and striding to the door. " I 
 saw Sir Jerry's carriage ; he and Lady Snaffle will be at the 
 church." 
 
 He forgot all about his daughter Margery, youngest and 
 fairest of the Southdown flock, who was left sitting in the gig. 
 But Young Jack, very smartly dressed, as he had been from 
 an early hour, came forward. The maiden took his hands and 
 jumped out, bounding up about a foot when her toes came to 
 the ground, and laughing gleefully. 
 
 " 1 was so disappointed when your mother and sisters came 
 without you," said Jack. 
 
 " Were you ? O, dear ! how smart you are !" 
 
 "To be sure ! We will walk together, you know." 
 
 " Yes, we will. I've been so put about. The dresses didn't 
 come home until late last evening. My sisters— mind, this is 
 a secret— couldn't sleep, and got up in the night to try theirs 
 on. This morning there was such a time. It was Margery 
 here, Margery there, and they were so long, that they had 
 to go before I could be dressed. I had no one to help me dress 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 407 
 
 but our maids Dolly and Jane, but we managed it, with father 
 storming at the stair-foot. How do I look, Jack ?" 
 
 " Beautifid ! charming ! You'll beat all but May, I can tell 
 you," said he, as the laughing maiden spun round, and shook 
 her muslin flounces. 
 
 " Shall we go in now ?" said she. 
 
 " No," replied Young Jack.- " We'll just step to the stables : 
 I want to show you something I have got there. Mind, it is 
 a secret !" 
 
 " What ! is the bear come. Jack ?" 
 
 "Why, no. There hasn't been time yet. Sassafras isn't 
 much more than landed in America. Come along." 
 
 Miss Margery was picking her way upon the tips of her 
 slippers, by Young Jack's side, when a housemaid came down 
 upon theni full sail, ribbons and frills below and aloft, crying, 
 " Miss Margery ! Miss Margery Southdown !" 
 
 " I say, Meg !" roared the grazier from the parlor window, 
 and the maiden stopped in dismay. The housemaid, red as 
 her own ribbons, said, " Lord bless us, miss ! Your ma and 
 sisters be in such a taking. The bride's dressed ! The bride- 
 groom and his young men are here ! The ladies are a'most 
 ready to come down stairs, and you a rambling round with 
 young master !" 
 
 The gentlemen stood near the parlor door. There was the 
 whisper of voices, the rustle of muslin and silk above, and down 
 came the bevy about the young bride. May, leaning on her 
 father's arm, passed out, and as she crossed the threshold her 
 hand was laid upon the great head of the wise, faithful mastiff. 
 Fury. Mrs. Southdown followed with Tom Scarlet, who looked 
 like a lord, as the servant maids declared. Then the brides- 
 maids, and at a little distance a lot of friends. It was a walk 
 of more than a mile to the church. On the bush at the gar- 
 den gate merrily piped the linnet. On the plum-tree bough, 
 all among the blossoms, the goldfinch made sweet music. All 
 along the spangled hedgerows of the pasture-land bullfinches 
 flew and whistled loud and clear, in salutation to their name- 
 sake, the bride. The young colts and heifers stopped in their 
 frisky gambols to stare at her. Over her head the skylark 
 sang" a dropping from the sky." And she was beautiful? In 
 her fair face mingled the blooming badges of two lines of kings, 
 for — 
 
408 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 " The ted and the white rose 
 As all the country knows. 
 Were the emblems of the foes 
 In a long and bloody strife I" 
 
 They rose the hill, and over the elms of the old churchyard 
 came the merry peal of the marriage bells from the stout stone 
 tower. Sir Jerry and Lady Snaffle met them at the church 
 door and walked up the main aisle to the chancel with them. 
 The Rev. Mr. Jericho was ready. The church was full. The 
 housekeeper, the cook, and the ladies' maid from the Hall 
 were in a front pew in the gallery, from which all the proceed- 
 ings could be seen. The cook was eloquent over the beauty 
 of the bride, the handsome face and fine figure of the bride- 
 groom, with a few remarks upon the bridesmaids. The cere- 
 mony was over! " Fast bind, fast find." Tom Scarlet and 
 May Bullfinch were man and wife. " He has kissed her !" 
 said the cook. " So has her father ! so has Sir Jerry !" 
 
 *' The idea of mentioning it, ma'am," said the ladies' maid. 
 
 **Why not? It is proper and customary, my dear — the 
 kissing of the bride — to a certain extent ; and so you'll find 
 when your turn comes. What next!" she added, hastily. 
 " Of all the boys of that age, for coolness he bears the bell." 
 
 "What boy, ma'am ? and what has he done?" 
 
 " What boy ! why, Young Jack. He'll come to the altar 
 himself — that I plainly see — and before long. As he paced 
 down the aisle, as large as life, with Meg Southdown on his 
 arm, he cocked his head to one side, and winked up here." 
 
 "Shocking! the audacity?" said Miss Ruffle. "If he had 
 a mamma she should be told of it. I have a great mind to 
 tell Lady Snaffle." 
 
 "You had better not," said the housekeeper. "I have 
 found Master Bullfinch a very well-behaved youth, and my 
 lady has often said as much. There must have been a mistake 
 as to his winking up here. If he did wink up here, it must 
 be attributed to the agitation of the moment, and his respect 
 for the family." 
 
 " Ay, perhaps that was it," said the cook. " He could 
 hardly wink at Sir Jerry, especially as his honor's back was 
 to him then, and so diverted his respect to us." 
 
 The wedding party had walked to the church, for that was 
 in conformity with custom, with prognostications of luck, and 
 
TEE WEITE EOBSE OF WO OTTO K 409 
 
 "with the settled notions of John Bullfinch, Mr. Southdown 
 and all the cousins, male and female, of the Bullfinch blood • 
 but they went back to Hawkwell in vehicles and on horseback, 
 amidst the plaudits of the people, and attended by the joyful 
 pealing of the bells. Mrs. Hickman took upon herself the 
 ■ marshalling of the guests to the great tables spread indoors 
 and out. It was not then the custom, which has been heard 
 of in some places since, for the bridegroom and bride to stand 
 up for a while before the company, and then take an oppor- 
 tunity to escape by stealth, as if they had stolen the old peo- 
 pie's spoons, or done something else to be mortally ashamed 
 of. No, Mr. and Mrs. Scarlet would have the places of honor 
 at the feast. When they left for a little excursion to Stowe, 
 the seat of the Duke of Buckingham, the slippers would fly 
 out after them, while tabor and pipe struck up, and the lads 
 and lasses began their dances in the orchard. And when at 
 night, on their return, with their bridesmaids and grooms, 
 they reached the Grange, the door-posts would be hung with 
 myrtle, and Tom, taking his bride round the waist with his 
 strons: arm, would " over the threshold lift her in." 
 
 This order of events was a little delayed by the sudden ar- 
 rival of Mr. Doublefee, who, fiery hot with haste, rushed up to 
 Tom Scarlet and May, and shook their hands. 
 
 " Hem ! you were about to sit down," said he. " I crave a 
 delay of a few minutes on a matter of great importance. Mr. 
 Bullfinch, Mr. Southdown, I bring intelligence of weight and 
 import to the future standing and happiness of the amiable 
 couple whose nuptials are the occasion of general joy. I en- 
 deavored to get here before the wedding " 
 
 " The villain !" said old Mrs. Oatford to her niece. " He 
 would have stopped it if he could." 
 
 "But," continued the lawyer, "though I flew upon the 
 wings of " 
 
 "Love!" said Young Jack, with Meg Southdown's arm 
 snugly tucked under his own. 
 
 " Not exactly love, my young friend. We can hardly call 
 it love in the pleadings. Let us rather say the wings of law 
 and equity and testamentary proceedings." 
 
 " What have they to do with this wedding ?" said Mr. South- 
 down. " There's nobody dead !" 
 
410 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " Yes there is, though !" replied Mr. Doublefee ; " and what 
 is more the deceased made a will, as my client Mr. Scarlet and 
 Miss May Bullfinch that was, now feme covert, will find, duly 
 proved." 
 
 ^'Feme covert!" cried Mrs. Oatford, "what does the man 
 mean? I declare it's an insult." 
 
 " Nothing of the kind, madam. It means female joined in 
 wedlock — a married lady." 
 
 " Go on, and come to the p'int, sir," said Mr. Southdown. 
 
 " Hem ! I may say that I came to that a day or two ago ; 
 but I shall now do so as briefly as possible. Some fifty years 
 ago a certain /e?/ie sole, a spinster of the Scarlet family, offended 
 her relations by running off" with the mate of a West India- 
 man and getting married to him. Nothiug was heard of him 
 or her for many years. 
 
 " Now stop !" said Admiral Broadside, from the great arm- 
 chair. " You say this man was mate of a West Indiaman 
 fifty years ago." 
 
 " I do, sir ; and I can prove the fact to the satisfaction of 
 any intelligent jury." 
 
 " Then, sir," said the Admiral, " that mate must have known 
 the landlady's daughter at Port Royal, who was very beau- 
 tiful, and just like the bride of to-day. This will corroborate 
 the case, sir." 
 
 "Thank you, sir!" said Mr. Doublefee, and continued: 
 " Young Crosstree and his wife soon removed from Bristol, 
 and the mate, promoted to be captain of a brigantine, sailed 
 out of Liverpool, trading to the west coast of Africa. Mrs. 
 Margaret Crosstree, the captain's wife, was energetic and 
 industrious. She took possession of her husband's money 
 every time he was in port, and invested it. The captain, a 
 man of jovial disposition, with a constitution capable of en- 
 during any — a — a " 
 
 " Climate," said Young Jack. 
 
 " Yes, climate, too ; but I was about to say any amount of 
 hard drinking — became a great favorite with the African 
 chiefs — kings of Bonny, Old Calabar, &c., and especially with 
 the renowned potentate Ja Ja Jumbo. He made much money 
 for his owners, having a sort of monopoly of some sorts of 
 trade whenever he was there, and he also made a good deal 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF V/OOTTON. 411 
 
 of money for himself In fact, it was more than sufficient to 
 buy a snug estate of three hundred acres, arable and pasture, 
 with a substantial dwelling-house and appurtenances. ^Irs. 
 Margaret made the purchase. The captain contented himself 
 with naming the place, which he called the Cameroons. Mrs. 
 Margaret lived in the house. The land was let at a fair 
 rental. Some years passed, and at length the worthy captain 
 died, in the Bight of Biafra, of the coast-fever, the sailors 
 said, but the surgeon of the man-of-war then upon the station 
 said, ' of too much rum.' But dead he was, and his will was 
 proved, leaving the Cameroons in fee to Mrs. Margaret, to- 
 gether with all his personal j)roperty. She continued to live 
 at The Cameroons, with two female servants and a gardener, 
 and as she grew old became eccentric. The fact that she 
 abused her relations was nothing, because it is very common. 
 But she talked of leaving all her property to some benevolent 
 society. It is not certain that she would ever have been able 
 to determine which ; but something occurred quite recently 
 to divert her intentions. From her windows she saw, one day 
 in January, two men and a boy come into the dairy ground 
 of The Cameroons with a White Horse, Avhich was mounted 
 and galloped. The trespass was complete, and Mrs. Margaret 
 had a mind to compel her tenant to sue ; but she first sent her 
 gardener to question the parties. Before he got to them, one 
 of the men, the boy, and the horse had regained the public 
 road ; but he returned to Mrs. Margaret with the other man, 
 one Sassafras." 
 
 *' I thought it would come to him when I heard of the White 
 Horse. Eh, Southdown?" said John Bullfinch. 
 
 " I remember the place well enough. It is within nine miles 
 of Chester. We went there because we observed that the 
 dairy ground was good going when our usual \vorking place 
 was hard from frost," said Tom Scarlet. 
 
 " Hem ! I do not mind your admitting that, but as to any- 
 thing further, I beg of you to consult your legal adviser, my- 
 self," said Mr. Doublefee. He then continued : " What I am 
 now about to disclose is not only of vast importance to you 
 and Mrs. Scarlet, but will be of great interest to all the ladies 
 and gentlemen present, who may be said to be counsel in the 
 cause. Mrs. Margaret fancied that Sassafras was a good deal 
 
412 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 like her late husband when she first saw him, and asked him 
 if he was not a sailor." 
 
 " He looked like one," said Tom. 
 
 " I protest against any further admissions on your part, Mr. 
 Scarlet, until we have had a consultation. Sassafras said he 
 was not a sailor, but admitted that he had once gone upon an 
 expedition to an isle in the Carribbean Sea, near what is 
 called — the name escapes me at the moment " 
 
 " The Grand Cayman !" said Young Jack. 
 
 " Yes, the Grand Cayman. Mrs. Margaret mentioned the 
 trespass and directed her handmaid to set out a bottle of rum. 
 They discussed the subject matter. Sassafras took his neat 
 and cold. The venerable lady had hers in the shape of hot 
 toddy, compounded by the maid, whose practice had been large. 
 Sassafras recited the history of Tom Scarlet, his love for Miss 
 Bullfinch, and the engagement of the White Horse. The 
 venerable relict of the worthy captain asked many questions, 
 and made a few comments. AVhen Sassafras left she arose, 
 and with what he called a lightning flash in her eyes, said, 
 ' If he's a true Scarlet, and the man he ought to be, he'll win 
 this race !" 
 
 Loud applause interrupted Mr. Doublefee, and Tom Scarlet 
 was about to speak, but the former interposed, hastily saying, 
 " No admissions ! Not a word ! Now mark me," said Mr. 
 Doublefee, with a triumphant air, "five days after the steeple- 
 chase, to wit, Mrs. Margaret sent for her man of business — 
 meaning her attorney — ^aud upon his arrival she then and there 
 executed a will. It devised handsome legacies to her servants, 
 and then bequeathed all the rest of her estate, real and per- 
 sonal — The Caraeroons of three hundred acres in a ring fence, 
 with much valuable timber, constituting the former, and the 
 latter consisting of money in the funds, and in a bank in Liv- 
 erpool — to her well-beloved cousin, Tom Scarlet of the Grange, 
 but upon the condition that he married May Bullfinch, whose 
 grandfather the testator had known in her youth. The con- 
 ditions really amounted to nothing, for he is next of kin, and 
 would have taken in that capacity if the will had failed. Mrs. 
 Margaret's health failed rapidly from the time she made her 
 will, and ten days ago she died. If she had survived a month 
 longer, it was her intention to invite Mr. and Mrs. Scarlet to 
 
* THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 413 
 
 tlie Cameroons, and put them in possession. As it is, her man 
 of business and myself have put everything in proper train, and 
 I now announce, without hesitation, that my client, Mr. Thomas 
 Scarlet of The Grange, residuary legatee and survivor of Mrs. 
 Margaret Crosstree of the Cameroons, recently deceased, has 
 an indefeasible title." 
 
 " Sir, you are a credit to your profession," said Mr. South- 
 down, " and it now appears to me, that what with the Grange 
 and the Cameroons, Tom Scarlet is a rich man." 
 
 " And that makes no difference to him except so far as it 
 may please his wife," said Tom. " We really owe this estate 
 to Sassafras, for I never saw^ cousin— " 
 
 " No admissions ! Not another word !" cried Mr. Doublefee. 
 
 " Now, I think," said Young Jack, " if everybody pleases, 
 that it's all owing to the White Horse, and as I have him in 
 the stable, next box to Cowslip, I propose to bring him out 
 when we have eaten the w^eddiug breakfast, and distributed 
 the bride-cake." 
 
 CHAPTER XLHI. 
 
 ^HE finishing of" The White Horse of Woottox" will be 
 J- but the winding up of a tale that is told, as he made no' 
 more races, but remained at Hawkwell, the admired of John 
 Bullfinch, Tom Scarlet, Southdown, Ransome and Young Jack. 
 His sons out of Cowslip and Young Cowslip were famous 
 hunters and steeple-chasers. Sassafras reached America after 
 a stormy passage, and was married quietly to Miriam Cots- 
 wold in the presence of a few friends of his father and mother. 
 A week after the wedding he presented himself at the office 
 of Mr. Leith, greatly to the delight of Duncan, who had the 
 account made up. The truth is that Duncan had been in sore 
 trouble in respect to Sassafras for some months. In the pre- 
 ceding winter old Mr. Leith had come in one morning in a 
 heat, and told Duncan that they must " hand the gear together" 
 for Sassafras ; for, said he, " he's awa' aff to England wi' an- 
 ither daft loon of the same stamp and a race-horse, and ye ken, 
 Duncan, they English would just tak' the eyes oot of a. man's 
 
414 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. * 
 
 head in any dealings about race-horses, and the like of things 
 that goes on at Kewmarket. AYhy could na' the chiel stay 
 here?" 
 
 " Aweel, sir," said Duncan, " Sassafras is no' that easy to 
 beat in regard to horses and racing, as I have heard from mair 
 than ane. He may beat tha Southron bodies at their own 
 game at Newmarket." 
 
 " I have na muckle hopes of ony such thing, Duncan. Ye'll 
 find he'll come back a broken man." 
 
 Therefore, when Duncan found Sassafras in presence, his 
 joyful greeting was mixed with lamentations over the losses 
 he supposed the Western man had incurred. 
 
 "Losses!" said Sassafras, "man alive, what losses? I'm 
 richer by thousands of dollars than I was when I went away." 
 
 " Save us, Sassafras ! Ye dinna mean to avouch that ye ha' 
 beat the English at Newmarket ?" 
 
 " Why, no ! not at Newmarket, but in the Midland Coun- 
 ties, Duncan, the famous Vale of Aylesbury. We won a stee- 
 ple-chase for a thousand pounds a side, and I had a bet with 
 the Duke of Jumpover for a hundred ounces of gold." 
 
 " Lord save us! a thousand pund sterling ! I'd gie a baw^bee 
 if oor Mr. Leith was in tli 3 day. He's awa to New York, but 
 in course ye'll wait his return. A hundred ounces of gold ! 
 And of a Duke, too ! I hope he didna pay ye wi' a bill ! 
 Tha Dukes is no' that sure of a cash balance at their bank- 
 ers." 
 
 '• He paid in Bank of England notes, and here they are," 
 said Sassafras. " The man is a trump — real gentleman ! so 
 were all that I met with in the little Island over yonder. I 
 want to deposit these notes with you for the present." 
 
 "My certie. Sassafras, the sight of them is gude for sair een. 
 Ye ken we've uae sich banlio here as yon Bank of England." 
 
 Sassafras then explained that he had won a wife, as well as 
 the wealth, and meant to take her out to visit a cousin in the 
 country. When he returned they would have a settlement as 
 to the tobacco, robes and furs. 
 
 "And thereby, man, I hae a tale to tell," said Duncan, 
 eagerly. " Ye'll mind the silver fox-skins ye made a present 
 of to oor ]\[iss Janet ? We sent them to Lunnon to be dressed 
 and made up. At the beginning of the winter they w^ere re- 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 415 
 
 turned. Miss Janet first wore them to church. Sassafras, ye 
 shuld hae seen all the leddies eyeing the silver fox furs, and 
 ready to faint \vi' envy. Ye see, the puir bodies had naething 
 on but mink and otter — the very best of them — and son;e 
 naething but red fox and muskrat, while oor Miss Janet was 
 just resplendent in the silver fox fit for a princess. Man, the 
 vera minister could na' tak' his eyes aff her. Mv. Leith was 
 fu' o' pride — mair sae than was proper for the place. As for 
 Angus McTartar— he's coorting her, ye ken— when we got 
 hame he just threw aff his hat and coat and dancit the Hie- 
 land fling while the young leddy was up-stairs. 'Twas wrang 
 on the Sabbath, Sassafras, but ye see tha Hieland lovers hae 
 na that reverence that beseems the day." 
 
 Sassafras and his bride spent a week or two at Pierce's, and 
 Elizabeth was much pleased with her cousin. On the evening 
 of the day they left for the West, Pierce stood behind his bar, 
 intently regarding his man Jake. Finally he produced the 
 peach and honey, and, with a pantomimic gesture, signified 
 that the negro should help himself. 
 
 " Mrs. Sassafras, Jake, may not have cdl the accomplishments 
 of Mrs. Pierce — Elizabeth — but she's a very beautiful woman." 
 
 " Dar' no handsomer young 'oman, sa, in de Ole Dominion," 
 returned Jake. 
 
 " And her manners, Jake, and her style, are superior." 
 
 "Why, of course, Pierce," said the voice of Elizabeth, from 
 the stairs. " My cousin, Miriam, is not only an English lady, 
 but in some sort a daughter of the Old Dominion, Pierce, be- 
 ing a descendant of Captain John Smith and the Princess 
 Pocahontas, Pierce !" 
 
 It was some years before Elizabeth was undeceived as to 
 this matter. 
 
 Five months after Sassafras and Miriam reached the plan- 
 tation there was a meeting at the trading-post between them 
 and the Indian chief, who had come eastward with a band of 
 his young men for the purpose of greeting his old friends. 
 He 'brought many presents for Miriam, and there arrange- 
 ments were made for the shipment of the elk, the buffalo and 
 Young Jack's bear upon the Arkansas. The precise locality 
 of this post is in dispute. Some think it was in Arkansas, 
 some in Missouri, some in the territory of the Cherokees, and 
 
416 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTOK 
 
 some carry it much further west into Kansas. The precise 
 pLace of the events related is not of much moment. The post 
 is like Prospero's Isle. 
 
 " Since that time the Isle hath been 
 By wandering sailors never seen." 
 
 When Sassafras became a father he gave up his roving 
 habits to a considerable extent, though he still went West 
 nearly every fall to hunt with the chief of the Cheyennes 
 about the forks of the Canadian river. 
 
 Once only Cinnamon visited him at the plantation near St. 
 Jo., but he did not remain long. He was soon head chief of 
 his great tribe, but nothing could ever induce him to pay a 
 visit to his " Great Father at Washington." The only white 
 man, besides Sassafras, for whom the chief had a high respect 
 was the late General Harney. Much communication was kept 
 up between Sassafras and his wife and their English friends. 
 When the Duke of Jumpover's nephews visited America, and 
 the plantation at St. Jo., to hunt with Sassafras and go out 
 upon the plains to Cinnamon's country, the young lads who 
 went with them were called respectively Tom Scarlet Sassa- 
 fras and John Bullfinch Sassafras, and the beautiful dark- 
 eyed young girl whom they left with her mother ^at the plan- 
 tation answered to the name of May. The Frenchmen, Jules 
 and Antoiue, were also of the party, and many trophies of 
 the chase were secured. 
 
 It was on their return from this expedition that Sassafras 
 brought the party to a halt in a wild and broken spot, and 
 said : " This is the very place where the Choctaw killed Cap- 
 tain Staples. You see, the captain had hired the Indian to 
 track Tom Scarlet and me ; and when the old man sought his 
 camp, after the doings at the ford, he found the Indian there. 
 The fact is that the Choctaw found he had been duped in the 
 pay. A difficulty arose. The captain pulled a pistol, but he 
 was too slow, for the Indian jumped in with his knife, and 
 that settled it." 
 
 The elk, the buffalo and the bear had arrived in England 
 long before that time, and the former bred in Sir Jerry Snaffle's 
 park and in that of the Duke of Jumpover. But the bear 
 was not a success. At first, from his huge size and his fierce- 
 ness, he was the wonder of the countrv side, and the delight 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 417 
 
 of Young Jack. But trouble soon began. Moleskin com- 
 plained to John Bullfinch, as they sat over their pipes and 
 ale, that the bear attracted all sorts of rough characters to the 
 neighborhood from Oxford, Banbury, Birmingham, Coventry 
 and the Black Country. The truth is that for some time the 
 "fancy" of those parts could not be persuaded that their 
 bulldogs and mastiffs were not equal to the baiting of young 
 Bullfinch's bear, and on a Sunday some twenty or thirty men, 
 with as many dogs, used to assemble at the saw-pit, in which 
 the bear was chained. Finally matters came to a climax. Bar- 
 ton and Ford arrived with four powerful bull mastiffs, descended 
 from the famous bitch who had taken the lion Wallace by the 
 hock, and made him roar with anguish, when he fought the 
 six dogs at Warwick for a thousand pounds. Ford protested 
 that Bullfinch's American bear was not a fair bear, and 
 claimed that the four dogs should be slipped at once. If it 
 had been a " Rooshian" bear, he protested that he would have 
 been content to let go one at a time. After some altercation 
 Young Jack stipulated for two at a time, and down the slope 
 into the pit they went, set on by Barton. The others were 
 furious, and Ford, pretending that he was unable to hold them, 
 let them go too. A desperate fight ensued. Finally, the bear 
 broke the collar to which his chain was attached, and climbed 
 out of the pit. Before he could be got in again he hurt three 
 or four men and a shortrhorn bull^^nd was eventually shot by 
 Moleskin in the brisket. 
 
 But if Master Bullfinch experienced some disappointment 
 and a failure in regard to the bear, he soon had a notable tri- 
 umph in another respect. His was a busy life for a youth. 
 In spring and summer and in the ripe time of harvest he 
 "was a-field early and late, and during the winter, in the hunt- 
 ing season, he was chief confidant and adviser of young Lord 
 Doomsday. On the great day when Lord Doomsday with 
 Blue Peter beat his brothers-in-law in a steeple-chase down the 
 Vale, Jack was in his glory. Tom Scarlet had trained the 
 horse, and Master Bullfinch had ridden him in his work. The 
 line was the same as that over which the White Horse ran. 
 The brothers-in-law not only got into the big brook, but fell 
 at Barker's Bullfinch as well ; but, as Rose Tanner remarked, 
 they were ready " to come lO time," and said, after it was over, 
 27 
 
418 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " Let Doomsday lend us the money, and we will run again in 
 a month." 
 
 Eose's brothers in Australia continued to prosper. They 
 became possessed of great tracts of land and vast flocks of 
 sheep. They sent mouey every year to Rose, but it was al- 
 ways remitted to John Bullfinch, as the gypsies continued to 
 harbor doubts touching the honesty of the parson of the 
 parish. Jack Cotswold was soon very well off. His horse- 
 dealing was carried on with much shrewdness and success, and 
 a great venture on Bay Middleton, through hints from John 
 Bullfinch and Tom Scarlet, who continued to be very intimate 
 with Ransome, netted him a large sum when that famous colt 
 won the Derby. But what most excited the admiration and 
 delight of the good people of the Vale at the time of that glo- 
 rious event was the fact that Lady Snaffle's maid, Miss Kitty 
 Ruflae, won five hundred pounds. Beiug in waiting on Lady 
 Snaffle at Middleton during her usual winter visit to Lady 
 Jersey, Miss Kitty learned the opinion of the countess in 
 respect to the prospects of Bay Middleton. She requested Sir 
 Jerry Snaffle to bet twenty-five pounds for her, probably 
 moved .thereto by the Spanish blood in her veins, stood it out 
 when the odds got short and the baronet advised her to hedge, 
 and won five hundred pounds. On the same race Lady Jer- 
 sey's coachman, the Duke of Grafton's coachman, and Lady 
 Snaffle's coachman won heaps of money ; but nothing was so 
 much talked of from Aylesbury to Whittlebury Forest, and 
 from Belvoir Castle to the classic courts of Oxford, as the 
 gameness of the little lady's maid in standing the bet out and 
 winning a handsome marriage portion. Intelligence of this 
 was written to Sassafras and Miriam by Young Jack, and he 
 concluded his letter by stating that he should have got as 
 much put on for Margery Southdown, only his father and his 
 sister May forbade him. It is to be regretted that Parkins 
 did not very long retain the confidence and countenance of 
 the higher authorities. As he got older he grew more and 
 more addicted to captious meddlesomeness, and retaining at 
 the same time his devotion to "No. 1, brass tap, right-hand 
 side of the cellar," he was ousted of his office. John Bull- 
 finch continued to entertain Moleskin very frequently. When 
 his daughter was at the Grange John rode over every day, but 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 419 
 
 she and her husband were often at Hawkwell. One, two, 
 three times John took pen in hand to announce to Sassafras 
 and Miriam that there was an increase in his daughter's 
 family. The first child was a boy, and by the sage advice of 
 the keeper the child was christened John, for said he : " You 
 thereby knock down four out of the covey. There's you, 
 John Bullfinch, and if the baby takes after you he'll do. 
 There's John Sassafras in America, also a good man and true. 
 There's John Scarlet in the old churchyard, and there's Young 
 Jack, so-called, his real name being John." 
 
 " I shan't interfere in regard to the name, sir," replied John. 
 " My daater is not likely to choose any outlandish name. 
 Your arguments are good, so far as they go. But May will 
 be apt to please herself" 
 
 " Jest so !" said the keeper, " I always said she'd have her 
 own way, in spite of you or Tom either." 
 
 " None of that, sir," said John, with some severity. " My 
 daater is now a mother, and is more like her own mother than 
 ever." 
 
 " And a little like her father, too, as her husband will find 
 if he ever takes occasion to contradict her, which, like a wise 
 man, he has not yet done," said the keeper. " Now John is a 
 good name — a good eldest-born, son-and-heir sort o' name. 
 There's two estates in the family — let May call her baby John, 
 after you, after Sassafras, after Young Jack, after Captain 
 John Crosstree of The Cameroons, and after the late John 
 Scarlet. I have said my say. You may put it out of the way 
 by obstinacy, but not by argeyment, not by argeyment." 
 
 With this the keeper replenished his pipe, drank a great 
 draught from the tankard, and looked John in the face. 
 
 " John, sir, is a good name — a very good name. Nobody 
 has said anything against the name," replied John Bullfinch, 
 with some heat, " but it is not the only name. There has been 
 many a Charles in our family time out of mind " 
 
 " So there has," said the keeper, striking in, " and what's 
 more, there is now. There's Charlie Bullfinch of the Mill. 
 He's a known man — none better in the county at a feast or a 
 fight. Then there's Charlie of Cherwell side, better known 
 as Charlie-over-the- Water, most likely because he never drinks 
 any. O ! the Bullfinches have got their Charlies in the 
 country still." 
 
420 THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 
 
 " Sir," said John, with a little dignity, " nobody ventures to 
 say anything against the miller and the grazier in their pres- 
 ence. Besides, sir, my uncle Charles, of Bath, was one of the 
 most eminent physicians in this kingdom. He was often called 
 in to attend royalty." 
 
 " As often as it had the gout !" said Moleskin, " and I've 
 heerd that his treatment was esteemed in that family because 
 his favorite prescription was took in brandy and water. But 
 who said anything agen Doctor Charles?" 
 
 " Nobody can say anything against him, sir, and my daater 
 May may wish to call her boy after her learned and distin- 
 guished grand-uncle, or she may wish to call him after his 
 father, Tom. Or, as Sir Jerry and Lady Snaffle have been 
 always very kind to her, treating her, as she says, almost 
 like a daughter, she may call the boy Jerry." 
 
 " I object to Jerry," said the keeper. " But if you j'ine 
 the two names and make it ' Tom and Jerry,' the boy will be 
 popular in these parts. You advise Mrs. Scarlet to call the 
 young 'un Tom and Jerry." 
 
 " I will first advise you not be a fool, sir," said John Bull- 
 finch, sternly. '''She may wish to call the boy Kichard," he 
 continued, raising his voice and rising from his chair. " Do 
 you object to Richard, sir ? Have you anything to say against 
 Richard, sir? There have always been four or five Richards 
 in our family, and there are now." 
 
 " Then that's plenty," said the keeper, " especially as Rough- 
 riding Dick of Heythrop is one on 'em." 
 
 " I think it is likely this child may be called Dick — I mean 
 Richard," said John. " Four of my cousins will take it as a 
 compliment. Besides, there's Richard Southdown, family con- 
 nection as will be ; and your own name is Richard, to boot. 
 What do you mean by abusing the name of Richard, sir?" 
 
 A reply was prevented by the entrance of Young Jack, 
 who had been at Southdown 's, where indeed he was very often, 
 much to the scandal of the older Misses Southdown, who never 
 ceased to insist upon the fact to their mother that Margery 
 was but " a child.'" 
 
 " I know, my dears," the good lady replied. " Still, she and 
 young Bullfinch may be said to be engaged. Your father's 
 mind is made up, and when Young Jack is twenty-one they 
 will soon be married. There now, it's out !" 
 
THE WHITE HORSE OF WOOTTON. 421 
 
 May's first-born was called John. The next child born at 
 Hawkwell — for May went home on these occasions — was a 
 girl, and by general acclamation of all the family and friends 
 this baby was called May. And then, behold ! in fulfilment 
 of a prediction by Rose Tanner, after long consultation of the 
 stars, came female twins, and these were called Margaret and 
 Miriam. That was a christening ! Lady Snafile was again 
 godmother; Lord Doomsday stood godfather. Presents rich 
 and rare were showered upon the infants. The young mother 
 • — beautiful as ever, paler than usual, still blooming like the 
 red and the white rose — was the object of a hundred toasts. 
 From all the country round there was a great flight of the 
 Bullfinches to the christening of the twins. Best of all, Sas- 
 safras " happened over," as he called it, at that time and was 
 present. Then it was that he struck hands with Charlie of 
 the Mill, Charlie over Cherwell AYater, Rough-riding Dick 
 and a score of other Bullfiuches ; and there and then observ- 
 ing that while Master Bullfinch was still " Young Jack" with 
 the cousins, Mr. Southdown and the keeper, his name had 
 ripened and mellowed into " John" upon the lips of May and 
 his brother-in-law, and those of Lord Doomsday, Mrs. South- 
 down and her daughter Margery, the Western man remarked 
 to John Bullfinch, Sr., " I see that I shall soon have to come 
 across again, and bring Miriam !" 
 
 THE END. 
 
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