Page:Seventy-six, or, Love and battle (IA seventysixlove00nealrich).pdf/14

 My father laughed. "No, my boy, you are the better horseman of the three, if not the best of the county, and I would trust you to break a colt that I would not trust many a rider to cross after you had subdued him. I did not mean to mortify you, I only desired to make you feel that you were comparatively helpless.

"I did feel it, father," said Archibald, walking away.

Well, well; never mind it, son. The stud is your own. Take your choice, and follow them, if you will—or go with me to the muster,—or take your own way, and, if you think you can succeed, go among the lads of the neighbourhood, and see how many you can bring in."

His eyes flashed fire, I remember, as we set off at full gallop for the high road, and in less than twenty minutes we saw him stretching like a hunter over a distant elevation after which—for he only took off his hat, stood up in the stirrups for a moment, and waved it without stopping—after which we saw no more of him till about nine that evening, when he came suddenly upon us with nearly twenty well-mounted young fellows, upon the best horses in the country, rattling at his heels like so many mad devils. They almost rode us down, for, with all our efforts, we had been able to muster but five.

"How he sits!" cried Arthur, pointing to him as he rode leisurely about, while we were all trying to form. The moon shone gallantly upon us, and really, had there been a trumpet there, and an enemy, we should have given a good account of him, notwithstanding our inexperience and wretched equipment. Indeed, there is a natural feeling of the heart, a proud pulse, about men always, who ride well, and are well mounted, though they are alone in the daylight; but when there are thirty more of them, thundering along at full gallop, under a broad blue sky, and a clear starlight, though they were day-labourers on foot, lucre would be a swelling of the heart, warlike and hazardous, I am sure, like banditti at least, if not like well-trained cavalry.

"I am thinking," said Archibald, leaping his horse at full speed over a ditch where all the others halted and boggled, and joining us—"I am thinking that if we ride over to the plain yonder, the muster-ground, that we may spend an hour or two profitably in manœuvring against to-morrow."

Arthur smiled, but, in that spirit of fellowship which all men have under excitement, we rode on, renewing our acquaintance with some of the horsemen about us, and making it with such as -were strangers. They were fine fellows, indeed; and when we were afterwards counted off into fours and sixes, and the order was given to gallop, I thought that I had never seen so handsome a troop of yeomanry.

Archibald had ridden hard, I am sure, that day, for the mettlesome creature that he rode kept throwing down her head and snorting continually when she stopped, as if hurt in her wind.

"My friends," said Archibald the moon shone full upon his white forehead as he uncovered it, and wiped away the sweat—"it is now time to separate. Let us meet to-morrow, at twelve, on this spot, each prepared to return no more or to return victorious. I said us—I do not mean it. It is not in my power to be with you, except, perhaps, as I have already told you to bid you God speed. But before we part, if you are willing to spend half an hour, and your horses are not fatigued, I will show you what little I know of the cavalry exercise, so that you will be enabled, at least, to enter the camp with an air of respectability".

The proposition was agreed to, and he threw us into line, counted us off into sections, wheeled in and out, galloped, and charged. I was truly astonished at the result. Before we parted, our horses would rein as steadily into line, and wheel with as much precision, almost of themselves, as they took a pride in it; and subsequent experience to me that they do, for many I seen broken to the line in a single drilling.

We then separated, all to our different homes, for the night;—when Arthur, who had been riding at our side, in silence, for about half an hour, suddenly wheeled from the road, with a laugh, leaped a low stone wall, and dashed away to our left.

"At twelve precisely," said I, calling after him.

"Aye! aye, at twelve!" he answered, flourishing his sword in the starlight.

Archibald reined up for a moment, and looked after him in surprise—"not the way to his uncle's?" said he.

"No," I replied, well knowing where he had gone. "I believe not."

Archibald looked at me for a moment, as if about to speak, but he did not, and then put ahead for some time.

"What say you," said he, abruptly, "shall we ride over to Arnauld's?"

"By all means," I cried, leaping forward and abreast of him; "it is only a mile or two, and I should like to see Lucia before I go."

"Lucia! yes," said Archibald, stooping over the neck of his horse and feeling the curb; "it would be well. You are a favourite there, brother and it would be rather unfriendly to go away for so long a———brother, your stirrups are too long—shorten them—you can never sit firmly in that way—throw your feet home."

"Pho, pho! how should you know better than I?"

"I do know better than you, brother and it matters not how I know it. If you do not ride with short stirrups, and your feet home, you are perpetually in danger of losing your seat, and your stirrup."

"But suppose I should be thrown?"

"You cannot be thrown. You must not look to such an event as possible. I was never thrown."

"I beg your pardon," said I.

"Never!" he replied, warmly. "Once or twice the horse fell with me."

"And suppose that your feet had been home then, what would have become of you?"

"They were. I grant, brother, if you are thrown, that it is more dangerous; but then you are not the hundredth part so likely to be thrown as———ah! music!"

We were now passing the windows, a long row of which, with the curtains up, were all illuminated. Archibald put his hand gently upon mine for a minute, and sat listening.

"By heaven!" said I, "there never was such a voice upon earth."

But he said nothing, he only drew a long breath, and turned aside his face.

There was Lucia, lolling upon the sofa, and singing away with all her heart and soul, as if her very