you,” said the former; “my reason for returning is to relieve your mind from any anxiety with respect to your horse.  I am by no means sure that you will be able, owing to your accident, to reach Horncastle in time:  to quiet you, however, I will buy your horse for any reasonable sum.  I have been down to the stable, and approve of his figure.  What do you ask for him?” “This is a strange time of night,” said I, “to come to me about purchasing my horse, and I am hardly in a fitting situation to be applied to about such a matter.  What do you want him for?” “For my own use,” said the surgeon; “I am a professional man, and am obliged to be continually driving about; I cover at least one hundred and fifty miles every week.”  “He will never answer your purpose,” said I, “he is not a driving horse, and was never between shafts in his life; he is for riding, more especially for trotting, at which he has few equals.”  “It matters not to me whether he is for riding or driving,” said the surgeon, “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 that 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