ONLY THE MARE 145 



don't mind waiting there I'll send Smithers to look 

 at the mare. I pass his house. All right, sir." 



His rough little cob started otf at a pace for 

 which I had not given it credit ; and I slowly 

 followed, leadingj the mare towards the cplimmering 

 light which Heathlield had pointed out. My 

 charge stepped out well, and I didn't think that 

 there was anything wrong, though glad, of course, to 

 have a professional opinion. 



A man was hanging about the entrance to the 

 public-house, and with his assistance the mare was 

 bestowed in a kind of shed, half cow-house, half 

 stable ; and as the inside of the establishment did 

 not look by any means inviting, I lit a cigar and 

 lounged about outside, awaiting the advent of 

 Smithers. 



He didn't arrive ; and in the course of wandering 

 to and fro I found myself against a window. Rest- 

 lessly I was just moving away when a voice inside 

 the room repeated the name of Blanhiey. I 

 started, and turning round, looked in. 



It was a small apartment, with a sanded floor, 

 and two persons w^ere seated on chairs before the 

 fire conversing earnestly. One of them was a 

 middle-aged man, clad in a brown great-coat with 

 a profusion of fur-collar and cuffs which it would 

 scarcely be libel to term " mangy." He was the 



