Kitabı oku: «Tom, The Bootblack: or, The Road to Success», sayfa 11
CHAPTER XXXI.
BUCEPHALUS
The stable was a handsome building, very complete in its appointments, for both Mr. Grey and Jasper were fond of horses. Opening the small door at one side the boys saw John, the coachman, washing the carriage.
"John, we want the saddle-horses," said Jasper. "Gilbert and I are going to ride."
"You will ride your own horse, Mr. Jasper?"
"Yes."
"And your friend will ride Sidney?"
"No; he will take Bucephalus."
John shook his head.
"Sidney's better for him," he said. "I wouldn't trust Bucephalus."
"John, you're a fool!" said Jasper, impatiently. "Gilbert isn't a baby."
"I know he isn't, Mr. Jasper, but all the same I wouldn't advise him riding Bucephalus."
"What are you afraid of?"
"He's a contrary brute, while Sidney's as good-natured as a kitten."
"Oh, well, we'd better have a kitten at once. Gilbert, we've got an old cat in the house, warranted safe. If John thinks it more prudent, we'll saddle her for you. A kitten might be too wild and skittish."
Gilbert laughed.
"I think I won't disturb the old cat," he said. "I'll try Bucephalus."
"Better not, sir," said the coachman.
"Of course, if you are afraid," said Jasper, with another covert sneer, "you'd better take Sidney; but in that case I shall probably ride away from you."
"I'll take Bucephalus," said Gilbert, in decided tones. "I am not in the least afraid, and I think I can keep up with you."
"On that horse I am sure you can."
John saw that further remonstrance would be unavailing, and very reluctantly got ready the mettlesome steed. Gilbert jumped on his back and put his feet in the stirrups.
John came to his side, and said, in a low voice:
"Be very careful, sir. Let him have his way, and don't chafe or vex him. I hope you won't have any trouble."
"I don't think I shall. Thank you."
"What could possess Mr. Jasper to be so particular to have his friend ride out on the ugly brute?" thought John, as he watched the two galloping up the road. "He wouldn't trust himself on his back. Maybe he won't mind it so much if the other gets a broken limb or broken neck. I hope there won't be no accident. That Gilbert, as he calls himself, looks like a nice, gentlemanly lad. I think I'd like him much better than Mr. Jasper, who does put on airs, and orders me round as if I was a dog."
John watched the two till a turn in the road concealed them from his view, and then went back to his work. But his thoughts could not help dwelling on the rash youth who had placed himself at the mercy of this ill-tempered steed, and he heartily wished he could be sure of his safe return.
We will now follow the two riders, and inquire how they sped.
Jasper soon found that Gilbert knew how to ride. His position was easy and unconstrained, and his seat was firm. He seemed as much at ease as in a parlor. But then Bucephalus was behaving well. He showed spirit, but was obedient to the rein.
"How do you like Bucephalus?" inquired Jasper.
"I find no fault with him. He is a fine horse. What made your coachman so afraid of trusting me on him?"
"I hope you won't be angry with John," answered Jasper, laughing, "but he doubted whether you could ride. If you didn't know anything about riding, your horse would soon find it out, and take advantage of it."
"Almost any horse would do that."
"Of course."
"I suppose you have ridden Bucephalus, Jasper?"
"Certainly, though not often. I am used to my own horse – General, I call him – and I naturally prefer him."
Jasper did not speak the truth. He had never ridden Bucephalus, nor would he have done so for a considerable sum of money, though he was by no means a poor rider. But Gilbert had no reason, or thought he had not, for doubting his assertion, and readily believed that it was only the coachman's doubt of his horsemanship that had given rise to the fears he expressed.
"How long has your father owned Bucephalus?" inquired Gilbert.
"Only three months."
"Who rides him?"
"Neither of us, much. The fact is, Sidney is father's horse, and this is mine. We don't need Bucephalus, but father took him for a debt, and means to sell him when he has a good opportunity."
This was true. Bucephalus had been taken for a debt, and as, on account of his ill-temper, he was of no use to Mr. Grey, he proposed to dispose of him at the first favorable opportunity.
"You ride well," said Jasper, after a pause. "Have you ridden much?"
"Considerably," answered Gilbert, modestly.
Had he not been so modest he might have added that his teacher had pronounced him the best rider he had ever taught. But Gilbert was no boaster, and, therefore, Jasper remained in ignorance of his really superior horsemanship.
"You don't seem to find any trouble in managing him. I wish John could see you ride. He would see how foolish he was in being afraid for you."
Gilbert was only human, and the compliment pleased him. He knew he was a good rider, and though he was not willing to boast of it, he liked to have it appreciated by others. He could not read the unspoken thought that was passing through his cousin's mind.
"He does well enough now," thought Jasper; "but wait till Bucephalus wakes up. Then he will be like a child in his grasp. I wouldn't like to be in his shoes then."
Yet to this danger from which he himself shrank in dread he had exposed his cousin, when he could easily have saved him from it. It was proof of his cold and selfish wickedness that he could do this without being visited by reproaches of conscience.
For several miles Bucephalus behaved unusually well. But at length he began to show signs of the insubordinate spirit that possessed him. They came to a turn in the road; Jasper took the turn, but Bucephalus preferred to go straight on. He shook his head viciously, and snorted defiantly.
"It's coming," thought Jasper, and for the first time he did feel a little pity for his companion.
"Won't he turn?" he asked.
"He don't want to, but he will," said Gilbert, coolly.
He pulled the right rein in a firm, decided way. Bucephalus reared, and began to dance round.
"Is that your game?" said Gilbert. "We'll see who will be master."
He sawed away at the horse's mouth with no mercy. Bucephalus was enraged. He could hardly understand the presumption of the rider, who was daring enough to defy him to his worst. He was accustomed to inspire fear in his rider, and his spirit was up. He indulged in worse antics, when he was astonished and maddened by a terrible lashing from the whip in Gilbert's hand.
He started off like a shot at a break-neck speed down the road which Gilbert wanted him to take. In his fury he was not probably aware that he had yielded that point to his master. On he rushed with the speed of lightning. Terror-struck, Jasper, sitting still on his own horse, followed him with his glance. He saw Gilbert, immovable as a rock, keeping his seat on the maddened steed, never for a moment losing courage or self-possession. He was astonished, but he could not help feeling admiration also.
"He rides magnificently," he said to himself. "Who would have supposed that he could manage that brute?"
But there was one thing that Jasper did not know – which I have not yet imparted to the reader. Gilbert had taken lessons of Rarey, the famous horse-tamer, and that gave him a wonderful advantage. Feeling firm in his seat, he let Bucephalus continue his break-neck speed till his beating sides and labored breath showed that he was exhausted. Then turning him unresisting he rode back. After a while he met Jasper. The latter could hardly believe his eyes when he saw the fierce steed cowed and subdued, while his cousin seemed perfectly cool and composed.
"Thank Heaven, you are safe!" ejaculated Jasper, hypocritically. "I was very much alarmed about you."
"I have given Bucephalus a lesson," said Gilbert, quietly. "I will ride him again to-morrow. I think he is thoroughly subdued now. Did he ever act in this way when you rode him?"
"No," answered Jasper. "I don't see what got into him to-day. You rode him splendidly," he felt forced to add.
"I am not afraid of horses," said Gilbert, quietly. "But suppose we turn back. I think he has had enough for one day."
CHAPTER XXXII.
AN UNWELCOME RETURN
"I wish I know'd the boy would come to no harm," thought John, the coachman. "What made Master Jasper so anxious to have him ride the ugly brute? He wouldn't trust his own neck, but maybe it makes a difference when another's is in danger. I ain't sure but I'd rather my frind, Pat Murphy, would break his neck than mysilf. It's human natur to think of your silf first, and Master Jasper is got his shere of human natur' I'm thinkin'!"
Time passed, and still John, as he kept about his work, could not keep his thoughts off the adventurous youth who had ridden Bucephalus.
From time to time he went outside the stable, and shading his eyes with his hand, looked up the road, but still nothing was to be seen of either of the boys.
"If he can manage the ugly baste, he knows how to ride, that's sure," said John to himself. "I wish I was certain of that same, I do, by St. Patrick."
"What are you looking at, John?" asked a voice, near at hand.
John turned suddenly, and perceived that it was Mr. Grey who spoke.
"I was lookin' to see if the boys was comin' back," said John.
"They'll come back in due time. You needn't leave off your work for that."
"I wish I knowed that, sir."
"Knowed what?" repeated his employer.
"That the young man – Mr. Gilbert – would come back safe."
"Why shouldn't he come back?" inquired James Grey.
"He rode on Bucephalus, sir."
"Suppose he did?"
"I'm afraid the ugly baste will do him some harm."
"I am not afraid. Bucephalus is a spirited horse, I am aware, but he is used to riding, and doubtless can manage him."
"So is Mr. Jasper used to riding, but you couldn't hire him to ride Bucephalus."
"He has a horse of his own," said Mr. Grey, impatiently, not liking John's pertinacity. "Of course he prefers to ride on his own horse."
"Would you ride him yourself, sir?" asked John, shrewdly.
"I have had enough of this," said Mr. Grey, sternly. "It is a good rule, John, to mind your own business, and I am forced to remind you of it. Go into the stable, and continue your work. I did not know Gilbert was going to ride Bucephalus, but as he has chosen to do it, I do not feel in the least anxious. I have no doubt he will come back safe."
"There he comes, begorra," exclaimed John, suddenly, swinging his hat in joyous excitement, "alive and kickin', sure, and the ugly brute as make and quiet as a lamb, too."
"Where?" asked Mr. Grey, sharing John's excitement, but feeling a wicked disappointment in the failure of his evil plans.
"Don't you see him, sir? He's jist at the turnin'. Shure he looks like he had mastered the horse, as bowld as a hero."
It was as John had said. Side by side at a walk came the two horses with their riders. The fierce steed had found his master, and looked quiet and subdued. Never till that day had he been broken. Till this time he had felt his power, now he felt the power of another. Gilbert seemed perfectly at home on his back, and from his manner no one would have supposed that he had had a hard conflict with the brute, from which, had he not come forth victorious, the result might have been death or serious injury.
"He's dangerous," thought his uncle. "A boy who can subdue such a horse must have an unconquerable will. While he lives, I am not safe."
To John he said, wishing to keep up appearances:
"I told you he would come back safe. You only made a fool of yourself by worrying."
"Shure he must be a splindid rider, sir," said John, perplexed, "or else he has the divil's own luck, the one or the other."
Mr. Grey waited till the boys came up, and John took the liberty of doing the same, though he had been bidden to go back to his work.
"How did you enjoy your ride?" he inquired, looking to Gilbert. "I see you rode Bucephalus."
"I had a little fight with the horse," answered Gilbert, "but I came off best."
"So he undertook to trouble you, did he?" asked Mr. Grey, with curiosity.
"Yes. He thought he was master, and undertook first to disobey, and afterward to run away with me. But I think he met his match, didn't you, Bucephalus?" said Gilbert, with a laugh, as he stroked the horse's neck.
Bucephalus showed signs of pleasure, and the fierce glance of his eye was softer and more gentle than Mr. Grey had ever known it.
"Shure and I'm glad you come back safe, Mr. Gilbert," said John, earnestly. "I don't see how you did it."
"I don't think you'll find him so troublesome after this, John," said our hero, dismounting. "We are better friends than we were – eh, Bucephalus?"
"Ye must have had a charm," said John, more than half in earnest. "I never saw such a change in a creetur before. He was a lion when he went out, and he comes back a lamb."
"It's a great secret," said Gilbert, laughing.
"Will it last, do you think?"
"I think so. When a horse is once conquered he remembers it."
"Shure, thin, he's worth twice the sum he was before," said John.
"Do you want me to charge Mr. Grey for my services?" asked Gilbert, laughing.
"Shure he could afford to pay you," answered John, "and that handsome."
"How far did you go, Jasper?" inquired his father.
"About eight miles, sir."
"Well, you must be tired and hungry. Come into the house, and the cook shall send you up some lunch."
"I am not in the least hungry, sir," said Gilbert. "We lunched at a hotel in the next town."
Jasper accompanied his father into the house, but Gilbert remained behind five minutes longer. John's good-natured anxiety for his safety had enlisted his good will, and he thought he would like to chat a while with him.
"You seem to be surprised at my coming home safe," he said.
"Yes, sir – shure I am. You're the only one I know that could manage the ugly brute, let alone a horse-tamer."
"But Jasper has ridden on him. Don't you think I can manage him as well as Jasper?"
"Mr. Jasper niver has ridden on Bucephalus."
"He told me he had," said Gilbert, in a tone of surprise.
"Shure, sir, you couldn't have understood him."
"Do you mean to say that he never rode on the horse?"
"No; and he wouldn't for a hundred dollars."
"What did he mean, then, by telling me he had done so?"
"Are you sure he told you so, Mr. Gilbert?"
"Yes; he said he had ridden Bucephalus, but not often, as he preferred his own horse."
"Then, savin' your presince, he told a lie, but you mustn't tell him I said so."
"I won't betray you; but I don't see why he should deceive me," said Gilbert, regarding the coachman with perplexity. "Did Mr. Grey ever ride on him?"
"No, sir, and he wouldn't. He'd be afraid of his life."
"Did you ever ride on him yourself, John?"
"Yes, sir, I did that same. I rid him once too often. Before I knew where I was I found myself lyin' in the road lookin' up to the stars, of which I saw plenty, though it was broad daylight."
"How long ago was that?"
"Two months ago, jist after we got him. I hain't been on his back since."
Gilbert now began to look serious. He was beginning to understand a little better how matters stood.
"I shouldn't think Mr. Grey or Jasper would have let me ride him if he was so dangerous," he said, after a pause.
"Nor I," said John. "Faith, they care less for your neck than their own, I'm thinkin'."
"It is lucky I am a good rider, or you might never have seen me again. I conquered him, but it wasn't easy. Six months ago he would have conquered me."
"All's well that ends well," said John, philosophically. "He won't be up to any more of his tantrums when you are on his back, I'm thinkin'. Horses have a good mimery, and they know their master."
"I shall not be afraid to ride him now. But I must go into the house."
Gilbert entered the house. He did not enter his uncle's presence at once, but went up to his room and seated himself thoughtfully at the window.
"Can it be that he meant to risk my life?" he said to himself. "I am in his way, I know, but is he capable of such a crime?"
He could not decide. He was not prone to think evil of others, yet he felt that it was necessary to be on his guard.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
ANOTHER PLOT
"So he mastered Bucephalus," said James Grey, when alone with his son. "He must be a splendid rider."
"I had no idea he was so used to horses," said Jasper. "He sat like a rock, and did not seem in the least frightened."
"I begin to think he is more dangerous than I at first supposed. Did he appear to suspect anything when the horse began to behave badly?"
"I don't think he did."
"He may be surprised that we should give him that horse when we don't ride it ourselves."
"He doesn't know that. He asked me if I ever rode Bucephalus, and I told him yes, but not often, as I preferred my own horse."
"That will do, if John doesn't undeceive him."
"John is a meddlesome fellow," said Jasper, in a tone of vexation. "He tried to persuade him not to ride Bucephalus."
"John makes a fool of himself. I am afraid he will arouse Gilbert's suspicions. If he does, we must do what we can to allay them."
"What shall you do now, father?" inquired Jasper.
"I have not decided. When I have, I may not tell you."
"Why not?" asked Jasper, suspiciously.
"Not from any feeling of distrust, for we are both in the same boat, and equally interested in frustrating your cousin's designs. But it may be necessary to resort to strong – perhaps forcible measures – and it may be well that you should be kept in entire ignorance of them. It is a serious peril for both of us, this claim of Gilbert's, but more so to you. I have already enjoyed the estate for a long time. In the course of nature I have thirty-five years less of life to look forward to than you. Therefore your interest is greater than mine."
"All right, father. Whatever you think best I am ready to agree to; but if you need any help that I can give, just let me know."
"That shall be understood. Now, you had better go out and look for your cousin. It is not best that John and he should be left to themselves too long."
Jasper went out into the stable-yards, but found that Gilbert had already gone into the house.
"That's a mighty foine lad, that Gilbert," said John.
"Yes, he's a clever fellow," responded Jasper, not very enthusiastically.
"He's as smart as a steel-trap," said John, earnestly.
"I didn't know steel-traps were very smart," said Jasper, sarcastically.
He felt instinctively that John considered Gilbert smarter than himself, and his self-conceit was so great that this troubled him.
"Wait till you get into one," said John, laughing. "If you'd get your little finger into one of them things, you'd find it was too smart for ye."
"What did Gilbert have to say to you?"
But John was too smart to be pumped.
"Nothing much," he answered. "He says the ugly brute won't give no more trouble."
"Do you think so yourself?"
"He won't trouble Mr. Gilbert."
"Will he trouble anybody else?"
"Maybe not. He's had a good lesson."
"I wonder whether Gilbert told him what I said," thought Jasper. He didn't like to ask, for, in so doing, he would betray himself. After a little pause he walked back to the house; but he did not see Gilbert for some time, for the latter was still in his chamber.
When they met at supper, Mr. Grey said:
"I ought to apologize to you, Gilbert, for trusting you to such a horse; but he has never cut up such pranks before, and I did not realize the danger to which I was exposing you. From what Jasper says, you must have been in peril."
"I suppose I should have been, sir, if I had not been so accustomed to horses; but I have ridden a great deal, though I don't think I ever had such a sharp contest before."
"You had better ride Sidney to-morrow – I don't want you to run any more risk."
"Thank you, sir; but I am not afraid. Bucephalus has had a lesson, and won't try to master me again. With your permission, I will try him again, and hope to have him wholly subdued before I go."
"I shall be glad to have him subjugated, I confess, as it will greatly enhance his value; but I don't want you to run any further risk."
"The danger is quite over, Mr. Grey."
This conversation, and the regret frankly expressed by his uncle, did considerable to put to rest the suspicion that had been excited in Gilbert's mind. It did look strange, to be sure, that Jasper should have made a false claim to have ridden Bucephalus, when he hadn't done so; but possibly this was because he did not like to have it supposed that he was inferior in courage or in horsemanship. At any rate, though not quite satisfied, he felt that there might be an explanation.
The next morning the boys went out to ride once more. Bucephalus justified Gilbert's prediction, and behaved as well as could be expected. Once he made a start, but a sudden twitch of the reins recalled to his mind the defeat of the day before, and he quickly relapsed into obedience.
Meanwhile Mr. Grey paced the floor of his library, and thought deeply. To what means should he resort to avert the danger that menaced his estate? He knew enough now of Gilbert to understand that he was resolute and determined. He might be conciliated, but could not be intimidated while he felt that he was battling for his inherited rights. Would it be worth while to conciliate him? Mr. Grey feared that he would require the surrender of the major portion of the estate, and to this he was not willing to accede. While he was thus perplexed, Pompey made his appearance, and said:
"There's a man wants to see you, Mr. Grey."
"A man, or a gentleman?"
"A man. It's Hugh Trimble."
"Bring him up."
Some idea must have been started in Mr. Grey's mind, for his eyes lighted up with a gleam of exultation, and he muttered:
"The very thing. Why didn't I think of it before?"
Hugh Trimble shuffled into the room – a tall, shambling figure of a man, with a generally disreputable look. He was roughly dressed, and appeared like a social outlaw. He was a tenant of Mr. Grey's, living on a clearing just on the edge of a forest. He had a wife, but no children. She led a hard life, being subjected to ill usage from her husband when, as was frequently the case, he was under the influence of liquor.
Such was the man who entered the library, and evidently ill at ease on finding himself in a room so unfitted to his habits, made a clumsy salutation.
"Well, Trimble," said Mr. Grey, with unusual cordiality, "how are you getting on?"
"Bad enough," returned Trimble, "I haven't got no money for you."
"Have you been unlucky?"
"I'm always unlucky," growled Trimble, frowning. "I was born to bad luck, I was."
"Perhaps your bad luck will leave you, after a time."
"I don't see no signs of that."
"Sit down," said Mr. Grey, with continued cordiality. "There's a chair next to you."
Hugh Trimble seated himself cautiously on the edge of a chair, a little surprised at the unexpected attention he was receiving.
"I want to speak to you on an important subject."
"All right, sir," responded the backwoodsman, not without curiosity.
"You say you have been always unlucky?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you don't expect your luck to change, I think you said?"
"Not unless it becomes worse," grumbled Trimble.
"Would you consider it good luck if some one should pay you over a thousand dollars?"
"Would I? I'd think myself a rich man." exclaimed Trimble. "But who's a goin' to do it?" he added, in a more subdued voice.
"I will, on certain conditions."
"You will give me a thousand dollars?" exclaimed the backwoodsman, opening wide his eyes in astonishment.
"On conditions."
"Name 'em."
"First, you must promise that what I tell you shall be kept secret."
Hugh Trimble made the promise.
Mr. Grey now rose and closed the door, which was partially open, and, drawing his chair near that of his visitor, conferred with him, in a low voice, for some twenty minutes. At the end of that time he dismissed him with a parting injunction.
"Remember what I have told you, and, above all things, be secret."
When the visitor had departed, he stood with his back to the fire, and smiled unpleasantly, as he repeated:
"I think it'll work – I think it'll work."
