? Can't you let a man--"

"It's me, Uncle George--Phil Carre. I'm sorry--"

"Phil!... Bon dou! Phil come back alive!" in a tone of very great surprise.
And then very sternly--

"Tiens donc, you down there! You're not a ghost, are you?"

"Not a bit of a ghost, Uncle George. I got home this evening. I'm up at
Jeanne Falla's party at Beaumanoir, and I've only just remembered that I
haven't got a horse for to-morrow."

"Aw, then--a horse for to-morrow! Yes--of course!" and he began to gurgle
inside, though bits of it would come out--"A horse! Of course you want a
horse! And who--?"

"Can you let me have Black Boy--if you've got him yet?"

"I'll come down, mon gars. Wait you one minute;" and very soon the door
opened, and he dragged me in, gripping my hand as if it were a rudder in a
gale, so that it ached for an hour after.

"And you're all safe and sound, mon gars?--"

"As safe and sound as Sercq, Uncle George. Can you let me have Black Boy?"

"Pergui! But it's a happy woman your mother will be this night. She never
would give you up, Phil. It's just wonderful--"

"'Tis, sure! Can you spare me Black Boy?"

"Aw now, my dear, but I'm sorry! You see, I'd no idea of you coming, and
the young Torode came along this very afternoon and begged me to lend him
Black Boy, and I promised, not knowing--But there's Gray Robin. You can
have him. He's a bit heavy, maybe, but he's safe as a cart, and Black Boy's
got more than a bit of the devil in him still. Will you be crossing the
Coupee?"

"I suppose so."

"Well, take my advice, and get down and lead over. It's more than a bit
crumbly in places. I've made young Torode promise not to ride Black Boy
across."

"All right! When can I have Gray Robin?"

"Now if you like."

"I'll be back at four. May I have some of your roses, Uncle George?"

"All of them, if you like, mon gars. Bon dou, but I'm glad to see you home
again!"

"I'd like a few to trim Robin up with."

"I'll see to it. It's good to see you back, Phil. Your mother didn't say
much, but she was sore at heart, _I_ know, though she did put a bold face
on it."

"I know.... You won't mind my running away now, Uncle George? You see--"

"Aw, I know! Gallop away back, my boy. And--say, Phil, mon gars,--don't let
that young cub from Herm get ahead of you. He's been making fine play while
you've been away." And I waved my hand and sped back to the merrymaking.

CHAPTER XIII

HOW WE RODE GRAY ROBIN

It