"So he undertook to trouble you, did he?" asked Mr. Grey, with curiosity. "Yes. He thought he was master, and undertook first to disobey, and afterward to run away with me. But I think he met his match, didn't you, Bucephalus?" said Gilbert, with a laugh, as he stroked the horse's neck. Bucephalus showed signs of pleasure, and the fierce glance of his eye was softer and more gentle than Mr. Grey had ever known it. "Shure and I'm glad you come back safe, Mr. Gilbert," said John, earnestly. "I don't see how you did it." "I don't think you'll find him so troublesome after this, John," said our hero, dismounting. "We are better friends than we were--eh, Bucephalus?" "Ye must have had a charm," said John, more than half in earnest. "I never saw such a change in a creetur before. He was a lion when he went out, and he comes back a lamb." "It's a great secret," said Gilbert, laughing. "Will it last, do you think?" "I think so. When a horse is once conquered he remembers it." "Shure, thin, he's worth twice the sum he was before," said John. "Do you want me to charge Mr. Grey for my services?" asked Gilbert, laughing. "Shure he could afford to pay you," answered John, "and that handsome." "How far did you go, Jasper?" inquired his father. "About eight miles, sir." "Well, you must be tired and hungry. Come into the house, and the cook shall send you up some lunch." "I am not in the least hungry, sir," said Gilbert. "We lunched at a hotel in the next town." Jasper accompanied his father into the house, but Gilbert remained behind five minutes longer. John's good-natured anxiety for his safety had enlisted his good will, and he thought he would like to chat a while with him. "You seem to be surprised at my coming home safe," he said. "Yes, sir--shure I am. You're the only one I know that could manage the ugly brute, let alone a horse-tamer." "But Jasper has ridden on him. Don't you think I can manage him as well as Jasper?" "Mr. Jasper niver has ridden on Bucephalus." "He told me he had," said Gilbert, in a tone of surprise. "Shure, sir, you couldn't have understood him." "Do you mean to say that he never rode on the horse?" "No; and he wouldn't for a hundred dollars." "What did he mean, then, by telling me he had done so?" "Are you sure he told you so, Mr. Gilbert?" "Yes; he said he had ridden Bucephalus, but not often, as he preferred his own horse." "Then, savin' your presince, he told a lie, but you mustn't tell him I said so." "I won't betray you; but I don't see why he should deceive me," said Gilbert, regarding the coachman with perplexity. "Did Mr. Grey ever ride on him?" "No, sir, and he wouldn't. He'd be afraid of his life." "Did you ever ride on him yourself, John?" "Yes, sir, I did that same. I rid him once too often. Before I knew where I was I found myself lyin' in the road lookin' up to the stars, of which I saw plenty, though it was broad daylight." "How long ago was that?"