right, brought me into the centre of Flint,
without any need of a guide. The rest of my
road was straightforward and commonplace.
I reached the farm where the sale was to take
place in time for breakfast, and was soon lost
in a crowd of country squires, Welsh parsons,
farmers, horsedealers, and grooms.

Late in the day I purchased a brown
stallion, with a strain of Arab blood, rather
undersized, but compact, and one of the
handsomest horses I ever saw before or since, very
powerful, nearly thorough-bred. When the
auctioneer had knocked him down to me, I
said to one of the grooms of the establishment
who was helping my man—handing him a
crown-piece at the same time—

"As the little brown horse is mine, with all
faults, just have the goodness to tell me what
is his fault?"

"Why, sir," he answered, "he can walk,
trot, gallop, and jump, first rate, surely; but
he's very awkward to mount; and when you
are on, he'll try uncommon hard to get you
off, for two minutes; if you stick fast, he will
be quiet enough all day."

"Thank you, my man," I replied; "I'll try
him directly."

Just before starting I found the chestnut
had a shoe loose, and had to send him to the
nearest village, two miles off. I had promised
Laura to return by eight o'clock, to finish a
delightful book we were reading aloud together,
until the tiff about Captain Egret had
interrupted us. You may judge if I was not
impatient; and yet, with fifteen miles to ride
to Flint, I had no time to spare.

My friend, the groom, saddled the brown
horse, and brought him down to the open
road to me. He trotted along, with shining
coat and arched neck, snorting and waving
his great tail like a lion. As he piaffed
and paraded sideways along, casting back his
full eye most wickedly, every motion spoke
mischief; but there was no time for
consideration; I had barely an hour to do fifteen
miles of rough roads before crossing the
river, and must get to the river-side, cool. I
had intended to have ridden the chestnut, who
was experienced in water, but the loose shoe
upset that arrangement.

Without giving him any time to see what
I was about, I caught him by the mane
and the reins, threw myself from a sloping
bank into the saddle, and, although he
dragged the groom across the road, I had
both feet in the stirrups before he burst from
his hold. Snorting fiercely, he bucked and
plunged until I thought the girths would surely
crack; but other horsemen galloping past,
enabled me to bustle him into full speed, and
in five minutes he settled down into a long,
luxurious stride, with his legs under his
haunches, that felt like a common canter, but
really devoured the way, and swept me past
everything on the road. Up hill and down,
it was all the same, he bounded, like a machine
full of power on the softest of steel-springs.

Ten miles were soon past, and we reached
Holywell; up the steep hill and through
the town, and down the steep narrow lanes,
we went, and reached the level road along
the shore leading to Flint, without halt, until
within two miles of that town; then I drew
bridle, to walk in cool.

By this time the weather, which had been
bright all day, had changed; a few heat drops
of rain fell, thunder was heard rolling in the
distance, and a wind seemed rising and
murmuring from the sea.

I looked at my watch as we entered the
town; it was an hour past the time when I
intended to have crossed—but Laura must
not be disappointed; so I only halted at the
inn long enough to let the brown wash his
mouth out, and, without dismounting, rode on
to the guide's house. As I passed the Castle,
I heard a band playing; it was a party of
officers, with their friends, who had come up
on a picnic from Chester.

When I reached the cottage of old David,
the guide, he was sitting on the bench at the
door, putting on his shoes and stockings; and
part of the party I had met in the morning,
as they passed, cried: "You're late, master;
you must hurry on to cross to-night." David
was beginning to dissuade me; but when I
threw him a shilling, and trotted on, he followed
me, pattering down the beach.

"You must make haste, master, for the
wind's getting up, and will bring the tide
like a roaring lion—it will. But I suppose
the pretty lady with the rosy face expects
you. But where's the red horse? I wish you
had him. I do not like strange horses on
such a time as this—indeed, and I do not," he
added. But I had no time for explanations,
although David was a great ally of ours. I
knew I was expected; it was getting dusk,
and Laura would be anxious, I hoped.

Pushing briskly along, we soon reached the
ford of the channel, so calm and shallow in the
morning, but now filling fast with the tide;
dark clouds were covering the sky, and the
wind brought up a hollow murmuring sound.

" Now get across, young gentleman, as fast
as you can, and keep your eye on the windmill,
and don't spare your spurs, and you will
have plenty of time; so good evening, God
bless you! young gentleman, and the pretty
lady, too," cried David, honestest of Welsh
guides.

I tried to walk the brown horse through
the ford where it was not more than three
or four feet deep; but he first refused; then,
when pressed, plunged fiercely in, and was
out of his depth in a moment. He swam
boldly enough, but obstinately kept his head
down the stream; so that, instead of landing
on an easy, shelving shore, he came out where
all but a perpendicular bank of soft sand had
to be leaped and climbed over. After several
unsuccessful efforts, I was obliged to slip off,
and climb up on foot, side by side with my
horse, holding on by the flap of the saddle. If