“No doubt you would,” said Merrylegs; “but then I am not quite such a fool as to anger our master or make James ashamed of me; besides, those children are under my charge when they are riding; I tell you they are entrusted to me.  Why, only the other day I heard our master say to Mrs. Blomefield, ’My dear madam, you need not be anxious about the children; my old Merrylegs will take as much care of them as you or I could; I assure you I would not sell that pony for any money, he is so perfectly good-tempered and trustworthy’; and do you think I am such an ungrateful brute as to forget all the kind treatment I have had here for five years, and all the trust they place in me, and turn vicious, because a couple of ignorant boys used me badly?  No, no! you never had a good place where they were kind to you, and so you don’t know, and I am sorry for you; but I can tell you good places make good horses.  I wouldn’t vex our people for anything; I love them, I do,” said Merrylegs, and he gave a low “ho, ho, ho,” through his nose, as he used to do in the morning when he heard James’ footstep at the door.

CHAPTER VII

GOING FOR THE DOCTOR

One night I was lying down in my straw fast asleep, when I was suddenly roused by the stable bell ringing very loud.  I heard the door of John’s house open, and his feet running up to the Hall.  He was back again in no time; he unlocked the stable door, and came in, calling out, “Wake up, Beauty! you must go well now, if ever you did”; and almost before I could think, he had got the saddle on my back and the bridle on my head.  He just ran around for his coat, and then took me at a quick trot up to the Hall door.  The Squire stood there, with a lamp in his hand.  “Now, John,” he said, “ride for your life—­that is, for your mistress’ life; there is not a moment to lose.  Give this note to Dr. White; give your horse a rest at the inn, and be back as soon as you can.”

John said, “Yes, sir,” and was on my back in a minute.  The gardener who lived at the lodge had heard the bell ring, and was ready with the gate open, and away we went through the park, and through the village, and down the hill till we came to the toll-gate.  John called very loud and thumped upon the door; the man was soon out and flung open the gate.

“Now,” said John, “do you keep the gate open for the doctor; here’s the money,” and off we went again.

[Illustration]

There was before us a long piece of level road by the river-side; John said to me, “Now, Beauty, do your best,” and so I did; I wanted no whip nor spur, and for two miles I galloped as fast I could lay my feet to the ground; I don’t believe that my old grandfather, who won the race at Newmarket, could have gone faster.  When we came to the bridge, John pulled me up a little and patted my neck.  “Well done, Beauty! good old fellow,” he said.  He would have let me go slower, but my