“sometimes I ride, sometimes drive; so, if we can come to terms, I will buy him, though, remember, it is chiefly to remove any anxiety from your mind about him.” “This is no time for bargaining,” said I; “if you wish to have the horse for a hundred guineas, you may; if not—” “A hundred guineas!” said the surgeon; “my good friend, you must surely be light-headed—allow me to feel your pulse,” and he attempted to feel my left wrist. “I am not light-headed,” said I, “and I require no one to feel my pulse; but I should be light-headed if I were to sell my horse for less than I have demanded; but I have a curiosity to know what you would be willing to offer.” “Thirty pounds,” said the surgeon, “is all I can afford to give; and that is a great deal for a country surgeon to offer for a horse.” “Thirty pounds!” said I, “why, he cost me nearly double that sum. To tell you the truth, I am afraid you want to take advantage of my situation.” “Not in the least, friend,” said the surgeon, “not in the least; I only wished to set your mind at rest about your horse; but as you think he is worth more than I can afford to offer, take him to Horncastle by all means; I will do my best to cure you in time. Good-night, I will see you again on the morrow.” Thereupon he once more departed with the master of the house. “A sharp one,” I heard him say, with a laugh, as the door closed upon him. Left to myself, I again essayed to compose myself to rest, but for some time in vain. I had been terribly shaken by my fall, and had subsequently, owing to the incision of the surgeon’s lancet, been deprived of much of the vital fluid; it is when the body is in such a state that the merest trifles affect and agitate the mind; no wonder, then, that the return of the surgeon and the master of the house for the purpose of inquiring whether I would sell my horse, struck me as being highly extraordinary, considering the hour of the night, and the situation in which they knew me to be. What could they mean by such conduct—did they wish to cheat me of the animal? “Well, well,” said I, “if they did, what matters, they found their match; yes, yes,” said I, “but I am in their power, perhaps”—but I instantly dismissed the apprehension which came into my mind, with a pooh, nonsense! In a little time, however, a far more foolish and chimerical idea began to disturb me—the idea of being flung from my horse; was I not disgraced for ever as a horseman by being flung from my horse? Assuredly I thought; and the idea of being disgraced as a horseman, operating on my nervous system, caused me very acute misery. “After all,” said I to myself, “it was perhaps the contemptible opinion which the surgeon must have formed of my equestrian powers, which induced him to offer to take my horse off my hands; he perhaps thought I was unable to manage a horse, and therefore in pity returned in the dead of night to offer to purchase the animal