Sir Brook Fossbrooke Volume I Part 38

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"They say there's not her equal in the park in London."

"That's not park riding; that's something very different, take my word for it. She could lead half the men here across the country."

Nor was she unworthy of the praise, as, with her hand low, her head a little forward, but her back well curved in, she sat firmly down in her saddle; giving to the action of the horse that amount of movement that a.s.sisted the animal, but never more. The horse was mettlesome enough to require all her attention. It was his first day under a sidesaddle, and he chafed at it, and when the heavy skirt smote his flank, bounded with a lunge and a stroke of his head that showed anger.

"That's a four-hundred guinea beast she 's on. He belongs to the tall young fellow that's riding on her left."

"I like his own horse better,--the liver-chestnut with the short legs. I wish I had a loan of him for the hurdle-race."



"Ask him, Phil; or get the mistress there to ask him," said another, laughing. "I 'm mighty mistaken or he wouldn't refuse her."

"Oh, is that it?" said Creagh, with a knowing look.

"So they tell me here, for I don't know one of them myself; but the story goes that she was to have married that young fellow when Sewell earned her off."

"I must go and get a better look at her," said Creagh, as he spurred his horse and cantered away.

"Is any one betting?" said little Westenra, as he descended from his seat on the drag. "I have not seen a man to-day with five pounds on the race."

"Here's Sewell," muttered another; "he's coming up now, and will give or take as much as you like."

"Did you see Mrs. Sewell, any of you?" asked Sewell, cavalierly, as he rode up with an open telegram in his hand; and as the persons addressed were for the most part his equals, none responded to the insolent demand.

"Could you tell me, sir," said Sewell, quickly altering his tone, while he touched his hat to Westenra, "if Mrs. Sewell pa.s.sed this way?"

"I haven't the honor to know Mrs. Sewell, but I saw a lady ride past, about ten minutes ago, on a black thoroughbred."

"Faix, and well she rode him too," broke in an old farmer.

"She took the posy out of that young gentleman's b.u.t.ton-hole, while her beast was jumping, and stuck it in her breast, as easy as I 'm sitting here."

Sewel's face grew purple as he darted a look of savage anger at the speaker, and, turning his horse's head, he dashed out at speed and disappeared.

"Peter Delaney," said Westenra, "I thought you had more discretion than to tell such a story as that."

"Begorra, Mister Tom! I didn't know the mischief I was making till I saw the look he gave me!"

It was not till after a considerable search that Sewell came up with his wife's party, who were sauntering leisurely along the river-side, through a gorse-covered slope.

"I 've had a devil of a hunt after you!" he cried, as he rode up, and the ringing tone of his voice was enough to intimate to her in what temper he spoke. "I 've something to say to you," said he, as though meant for her private ear; and the others drew back, and suffered them to ride on together. "There 's a telegram just come from that old beast the Chief Baron; he desires to see me to-night. The last train leaves at five, and I shall only hit it by going at once. Can't you keep your horse quiet, Madam, or must you show off while I 'm speaking to you?"

"It was the furze that stung him," said she, coldly, and not showing the slightest resentment at his tone.

"If the old bear means anything short of dying, and leaving me his heir, this message is a shameful swindle."

"Do you mean to go?" asked she, coldly.

"I suppose so; that is," added he, with a bitter grin, "if I can tear myself away from _you_;" but she only smiled.

"I 'll have to pay a forfeit in this match," continued he, "and my book will be all smashed, besides. I say," cried he, "would Trafford ride for me?"

"Perhaps he would."

"None of your mock indifference, Madam. I can't afford to lose a thousand pounds every time you have a whim. Ay, look astonished if you like! but if you had n't gone into the billiard-room on Sat.u.r.day evening and spoiled my match, I 'd have escaped that infernal whist-table.

Listen to me now! Tell him that I have been sent for suddenly,--it might be too great a risk for me to refuse to go,--and ask him to ride Crescy; if he says Yes,--and he will say yes if you ask him as you _ought_,"--her cheek grew crimson as he uttered the last word with a strong emphasis,--"tell him to take up my book. Mind you use the words 'take up;' _he'll_ understand you."

"But why not say all this yourself?--he 's riding close behind at this minute."

"Because I have a wife, Madam, who can do it so much better; because I have a wife who plucks a carnation out of a man's coat, and wears it in her bosom, and this on an open race-course, where people can talk of it!

and a woman with such rare tact ought to be of service to her husband, eh?" She swayed to and fro in her saddle for an instant as though about to fall, but she grasped the horn with both hands and saved herself.

"Is that all?" muttered she, faintly.

"Not quite. Tell Trafford to come round to my dressing-room, and I 'll give him a hint or two about the horse. He must come at once, for I have only time to change my clothes and start. You can make some excuse to the people for my absence; say that the old Judge has had another attack, and I only wish it may be true. Tell them I got a telegram, and _that_ may mean anything. Trafford will help you to do the honors, and I 'll swear him in as viceroy before I go. Is n't that all that could be asked of me?" The insolence of his look as he said this made her turn away her head as though sickened and disgusted.

"They want you at the weighing-stand, Colonel Sewell," said a gentleman, riding up.

"Oh, they do! Well, say, please, that I 'm coming. Has he given you that black horse?" asked he, in a hurried whisper.

"No; he offered him, but I refused."

"You had no right to refuse; he's strong enough to carry _me_; and the ponies that I saw led round to the stable-yard, whose are they?"

"They are Captain Trafford's."

"You told him you thought them handsome, I suppose, didn't you?"

"Yes, I think them very beautiful."

"Well, don't take them as a present. Win them if you like at piquet or ecarte,--any way you please, but don't take them as a gift, for I heard Westenra say they were meant for you."

She nodded; and as she bent her head, a smile, the very strangest, crossed her features. If it were not that the pervading expression of her face was at the instant melancholy, the look she gave him would have been almost devilish.

"I have something else to say, but I can't remember it."

"You don't know when you'll be back?" asked she, carelessly.

"Of course not,--how can I? I can only promise that I'll not arrive unexpectedly, Madam; and I take it that's as much as any gentleman can be called on to say. Bye-bye."

"Good-bye," said she, in the same tone.

"I see that Mr. Balfour is here. I can't tell who asked him; but mind you don't invite him to luncheon; take no notice of him whatever; he'll not bet a guinea; never plays; never risks anything,--even his _affections!_"

"What a creature!"

"Isn't he! There! I'll not detain you from pleasanter company; good-bye; see you here when I come back, I suppose?"

"Most probably," said she, with a smile; and away he rode, at a tearing gallop, for his watch warned him that he was driven to the last minute.

Sir Brook Fossbrooke Volume I Part 38

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Sir Brook Fossbrooke Volume I Part 38 summary

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