es
won; but he had killed more horses under him than any man in
Ireland--and no wonder, for he had a coarse hand and a loose seat;
and it was no uncommon thing to see George coming the first of the
two over a fence headlong into the next field as if he had been flung
there by a petard, leaving the unfortunate brute he had been riding
panting behind him, with his breast cut open, or his knees destroyed
by the fence, over which his rider had had neither skill nor patience
to land him. He was now going to ride his own horse, Conqueror, and
had talked himself, and had been talked, into the belief that it was
impossible that anything could beat him.

These two were standing talking at the fireplace, and as they also
had their little books in their hands, it is to be presumed that they
were mixing business with amusement.

There were others there, sitting at the table, who were to ride
to-morrow, but whose usual weight allowed them to do so, without the
annoyance to which Gayner and Brown had to subject themselves. There
was little Larry Kelly, from Roscommon, who could ride something
under eight stone; Nicholas Blake, from the land of the Blakes,
Burkes, and Bodkins; Pat Conner, with one eye, from Strokestown, who
had brought his garron over under the speculation that if the weather
should come wet, and the horses should fall at the heavy banks, she
would be sure to crawl over,--knowing, too, that as the priest was
his second cousin, he could not refuse him the loan of a stable
gratis.

There was Ussher there also, sitting next to George Brown, who was
a friend of his--much more intent, however, on his own business
than that which had brought the others here; and Greenough, the
sub-inspector of police, from Ballinamore; and young Fitzpatrick, of
Streamstown, who kept the subscription pack of harriers; and a couple
of officers from Boyle, one of whom owned a horse, for which he was
endeavouring to get a rider, but which none of those present seemed
to fancy; and there was Peter Dillon, from beyond Castlebar, who had
brought up a strong-looking, long-legged colt, which he had bred in
County Mayo, with the hope that he might part with it advantageously
in a handicap, to some of those Roscommon lads, who were said to have
money in their pockets; and there were many others apparently happy,
joyous fellows, who seemed not to have a care in the world; and last,
but not least, there was Hyacinth Keegan, attorney at law, and gent