Kilgorman: A Story of Ireland in 1798Reed, Talbot Baines
History
Kilgorman: A Story of Ireland in 1798
Reed, Talbot Baines
France -- History -- Revolution, 1789-1799 -- Juvenile fiction; Ireland -- Juvenile fiction
"It's not the day for a ride. Sure Juno's that saucy with want of work
there'll be no holding her in. Besides, the master--"
But the young lady cut him short.
"Get up, sir, at once, and do as you are bid. There's more than Juno is
saucy with want of work. Be quick now."
He went off with a scowl, and presently returned, leading out Juno and
the horse on which he was to follow--a great-limbed animal called Paddy.
What he had said about my little lady's mare was very true. High-
spirited she was at best of times, but a week's idleness and eating had
made her fairly wicked; and as I looked out from the kitchen door to
watch them start, I wished it was my business and not Martin's to see
her safe on her way.
"Hold her head till I mount," said Miss Kit, after trying for a minute
or two to coax the mare into peace. "She will be easy enough when I am
up."
But though Martin held her head, the animal yet started and shied and
curvetted every time Miss Kit gathered the reins in her hand and lifted
her foot to the stirrup.
So I came out to the yard and gave her my hand to mount by.
Martin scowled very black at this.
"Go along away out of that," said he, when my lady was fairly perched on
the saddle; "the mare's enough to fright her without you."
"Get you up on Paddy," said I, "and don't talk to me.--So, steady there,
Juno lass.--Hold her gently, Miss Kit."
Martin, muttering to himself, let go the mare's head and walked over to
where Paddy stood.
Just then, as luck would have it, out came Con the dog with a joyous
yap.
This sudden noise was too much for the courage of Juno, who, feeling her
head free and only a light weight on her back, gave a wild plunge, and
next moment was away at a gallop out of the yard gate and down the
avenue.
It was no time for halting. The mare must be caught before she could
reach the cliffs, or to a certainty she and her rider were doomed.
Martin stood with his hand on Paddy's mane, gaping after the runaway.
With a sudden spring I dashed him aside and vaulted into the saddle, and
before he could expostulate or guess what had happened I was away in
full chase.
Even in the terror of the moment I could not help laughing to myself at
the thought of poor Martin tumbling across the stable-yard, and finding
himself out of the hunt. After that he would at least deign to
recognise Barry Gallagher.
Though scarcely half-a-minute had elapsed, Juno and her precious burden
were at the end of the long avenue before I was at the beginning of it.
Paddy, amazed at all the excitement, lost some seconds in plunging
before I could induce him to lay himself out for the pursuit. Then, to
do him justice, he needed little coaxing from me. If only his wind was
as long as his stride, this hue and cry might prove a holiday freak. If
not--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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