Lavengro · Part II · Chapter 2 17 (2/2)

“Like enough,” said the landlord; “he was there and was offered for seventy pounds, but didn’t find a bidder at any price. What do you think of him?”

“He’s a splendid creature.”

“I am no judge of horses,” said the landlord; “but I am told he’s a first-rate trotter, good leaper, and has some of the blood of Syntax. What does all that signify?⁠—the game is against his master, who is a down pin, is thinking of emigrating, and wants money confoundedly. He asked seventy pounds at the fair; but, between ourselves, he would be glad to take fifty here.”

“I almost wish,” said I, “that I were a rich squire.”

“You would buy him then,” said the landlord. Here he mused for some time, with a very profound look. “It would be a rum thing,” said he, “if some time or other that horse should come into your hands. Didn’t you hear how he neighed when you talked about leaving the country? My granny was a wise woman, and was up to all kinds of signs and wonders, sounds and noises, the interpretation of the language of birds and animals, crowing and lowing, neighing and braying. If she had been here, she would have said at once that that horse was fated to carry you away. On that point, however, I can say nothing, for under fifty pounds no one can have him. Are you taking that money out of your pocket to pay me for the ale? That won’t do; nothing to pay; I invited you this time. Now, if you are going, you had best get into the road through the yard-gate. I won’t trouble you to make your way through the kitchen and my fine-weather company⁠—confound them!”