Black Beauty, Anna Sewell [good books to read for women txt] 📗

like children, train ’em up in the way they should go, as the good book says, and when they are old they will not depart from it, if they have a chance.”

“I like to hear you talk,” said James, “that’s the way we lay it down at home, at our master’s.”

“Who is your master, young man? if it be a proper question. I should judge he is a good one, from what I see.”

“He is Squire Gordon, of Birtwick Park, the other side the Beacon Hills,” said James.

“Ah! so, so, I have heard tell of him; fine judge of horses, ain’t he? the best rider in the county.”

“I believe he is,” said James, “but he rides very little now, since the poor young master was killed.”

“Ah! poor gentleman; I read all about it in the paper at the time. A fine horse killed, too, wasn’t there?”

“Yes,” said James, “he was a splendid creature, brother to this one, and just like him.”

“Pity! pity!” said the old man, “ ’twas a bad place to leap, if I remember; a thin fence at top, a steep bank down to the stream, wasn’t it? No chance for a horse to see where he is going. Now, I am for bold riding as much as any man, but still there are some leaps that only a very knowing old huntsman has any right to take. A man’s life and a horse’s life are worth more than a fox’s tail; at least, I should say they ought to be.”

During this time the other man had finished Ginger and had brought our corn, and James and the old man left the stable together.

XVI The Fire

Later on in the evening a traveler’s horse was brought in by the second hostler, and while he was cleaning him a young man with a pipe in his mouth lounged into the stable to gossip.

“I say, Towler,” said the hostler, “just run up the ladder into the loft and put some hay down into this horse’s rack, will you? only lay down your pipe.”

“All right,” said the other, and went up through the trapdoor; and I heard him step across the floor overhead and put down the hay. James came in to look at us the last thing, and then the door was locked.

I cannot say how long I had slept, nor what time in the night it was, but I woke up very uncomfortable, though I hardly knew why. I got up; the air seemed all thick and choking. I heard Ginger coughing and one of the other horses seemed very restless; it was quite dark, and I could see nothing, but the stable seemed full of smoke, and I hardly knew how to breathe.

The trapdoor had been left open, and I thought that was the place it came through. I listened, and heard a soft rushing sort of noise and a low crackling and snapping. I did not know what it was, but there was something in the sound so strange that it made me tremble all over. The other horses were all awake; some were pulling at their halters, others stamping.

At last I heard steps outside, and the hostler who had put up the traveler’s horse burst into the stable with a lantern, and began to untie the horses, and try to lead them out; but he seemed in such a hurry and so frightened himself that he frightened me still more. The first horse would not go with him; he tried the second and third, and they too would not stir. He came to me next and tried to drag me out of the stall by force; of course that was no use. He tried us all by turns and then left the stable.

No doubt we were very foolish, but danger seemed to be all round, and there was nobody we knew to trust in, and all was strange and uncertain. The fresh air that had come in through the open door made it easier to breathe, but the rushing sound overhead grew louder, and as I looked upward through the bars of my empty rack I saw a red light flickering on the wall. Then I heard a cry of “Fire!” outside, and the old hostler quietly and quickly came in; he got one horse out, and went to another, but the flames were playing round the trapdoor, and the roaring overhead was dreadful.

The next thing I heard was James’ voice, quiet and cheery, as it always was.

“Come, my beauties, it is time for us to be off, so wake up and come along.” I stood nearest the door, so he came to me first, patting me as he came in.

“Come, Beauty, on with your bridle, my boy, we’ll soon be out of this smother.” It was on in no time; then he took the scarf off his neck, and tied it lightly over my eyes, and patting and coaxing he led me out of the stable. Safe in the yard, he slipped the scarf off my eyes, and shouted, “Here somebody! take this horse while I go back for the other.”

A tall, broad man stepped forward and took me, and James darted back into the stable. I set up a shrill whinny as I saw him go. Ginger told me afterward that whinny was the best thing I could have done for her, for had she not heard me outside she would never have had courage to come out.

There was much confusion in the yard; the horses being got out of other stables, and the carriages and gigs being pulled out of houses and sheds, lest the flames should spread further. On the other side the yard windows were thrown up, and people were shouting all sorts of things; but I kept my eye fixed on the stable door, where the smoke poured out thicker than ever, and I could see flashes of red light; presently I heard above all the stir and