Trying the Horse — The Feats of Tawno — Man with the Red Waistcoat — Disposal Of Property

I saw nothing more of Mr. Petulengro that evening; on the morrow, however, he came and informed me that he had secured the horse for me, and that I was to go and pay for it at noon. At the hour appointed, therefore, I went with Mr. Petulengro and Tawno to the public, where, as before, there was a crowd of company. The landlord received us in the bar with marks of much satisfaction and esteem, made us sit down, and treated us with some excellent mild draught ale. ‘Who do you think has been here this morning?’ he said to me. ‘Why that fellow in black, who came to carry me off to a house of Popish devotion, where I was to pass seven days and nights in meditation, as I think he called it, before I publicly renounced the religion of my country. I read him a pretty lecture, calling him several unhandsome names, and asking him what he meant by attempting to seduce a churchwarden of the Church of England. I tell you what, he ran some danger, for some of my customers, learning his errand, laid hold on him, and were about to toss him in a blanket, and then duck him in the horse-pond. I, however, interfered, and said that what he came about was between me and him, and that it was no business of theirs. To tell you the truth, I felt pity for the poor devil, more especially when I considered that they merely sided against him because they thought him the weakest, and that they would have wanted to serve me in the same manner had they considered me a down pin; so I rescued him from their hands, told him not to be afraid, for that nobody should touch him, and offered to treat him to some cold gin and water with a lump of sugar in it; and, on his refusing, told him that he had better make himself scarce, which he did, and I hope I shall never see him again. So I suppose you are come for the horse; mercy upon us! — who would have thought you would have become the purchaser? The horse, however, seemed to know it by its neighing. How did you ever come by the money? However, that’s no matter of mine. I suppose you are strongly backed by certain friends you have.’

I informed the landlord that he was right in supposing that I came for the horse, but that, before I paid for him, I should wish to prove his capabilities. ‘With all my heart,’ said the landlord. ‘You shall mount him this moment.’ Then, going into the stable, he saddled and bridled the horse, and presently brought him out before the door. I mounted him, Mr. Petulengro putting a heavy whip into my hand, and saying a few words to me in his own mysterious language. ‘The horse wants no whip,’ said the landlord. ‘Hold your tongue, daddy,’ said Mr. Petulengro. ‘My pal knows quite well what to do with the whip; he’s not going to beat the horse with it.’ About four hundred yards from the house there was a hill, to the foot of which the road ran almost on a perfect level; towards the foot of this hill I trotted the horse, who set off at a long, swift pace, seemingly at the rate of about sixteen miles an hour. On reaching the foot of the hill, I wheeled the animal round, and trotted him towards the house — the horse sped faster than before. Ere he had advanced a hundred yards, I took off my hat, in obedience to the advice which Mr. Petulengro had given me, in his own language, and holding it over the horse’s head, commenced drumming on the crown with the knob of the whip; the horse gave a slight start, but instantly recovering himself, continued his trot till he arrived at the door of the public-house, amidst the acclamations of the company, who had all rushed out of the house to be spectators of what was going on. ‘I see now what you wanted the whip for,’ said the landlord, ‘and sure enough that drumming on your hat was no bad way of learning whether the horse was quiet or not. Well, did you ever see a more quiet horse, or a better trotter?’ ‘My cob shall trot against him,’ said a fellow dressed in velveteen, mounted on a low powerful-looking animal —‘my cob shall trot against him to the hill and back again — come on!’ We both started; the cob kept up gallantly against the horse for about half the way to the hill, when he began to lose ground; at the foot of the hill he was about fifteen yards behind. Whereupon I turned slowly and waited for him. We then set off towards the house, but now the cob had no chance, being at least twenty yards behind when I reached the door. This running of horses, the wild uncouth forms around me, and the ale and beer which were being guzzled from pots and flagons, put me wonderfully in mind of the ancient horse-races of the heathen north. I almost imagined myself Gunnar of Hlitharend at the race of —.

‘Are you satisfied?’ said the landlord. ‘Didn’t you tell me that he could leap?’ I demanded. ‘I am told he can,’ said the landlord; ‘but I can’t consent that he should be tried in that way, as he might be damaged.’ ‘That’s right!’ said Mr. Petulengro, ‘don’t trust my pal to leap that horse; he’ll merely fling him down and break his neck and his own. There’s a better man than he close by; let him get on his back and leap him.’ ‘You mean yourself, I suppose,’ said the landlord. ‘Well, I call that talking modestly, and nothing becomes a young man more than modesty.’ ‘It ain’t I, daddy,’ said Mr. Petulengro. ‘Here’s the man,’ said he, pointing to Tawno. ‘Here’s the horse-leaper of the world!’ ‘You mean the horse-back-breaker,’ said the landlord. ‘That big fellow would break down my cousin’s horse.’ ‘Why he weighs only sixteen stone,’ said Mr. Petulengro; ‘and his sixteen stone, with his way of handling a horse, does not press so much as any other one’s thirteen. Only let him get on the horse’s back and you’ll see what he can do!’ ‘No,’ said the landlord, ‘it won’t do.&rs............