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 his 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 perfe
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