Before noon Lord Liftore came round to the mews:
his riding horses were there. Malcolm was not
at the moment in the stable.
“What animal is that?” he asked of his
own groom, catching sight of Kelpie in her loose box.
“One just come up from Scotland for Lady Lossie,
my lord,” answered the man.
“She looks a clipper! Lead her out, and
let me see her.”
“She’s not sound in the temper, my lord,
the groom that brought her says. He told me on
no account to go near her till she got used to the
sight of me.”
“Oh! you’re afraid, are you?” said
his lordship, whose breeding had not taught him courtesy
to his inferiors.
At the word the man walked into her box. As he
did so he looked out for her hoofs, but his circumspection
was in vain: in a moment she had wheeled, jammed
him against the wall, and taken his shoulder in her
teeth. He gave a yell of pain. His lordship
caught up a stable broom, and attacked the mare with
it over the door; but it flew from his hand to the
other end of the stable, and the partition began to
go after it. But she still kept her hold of the
man. Happily, however, Malcolm was not far off
and hearing the noise, rushed in. He was just
in time to save the groom’s life. Clearing
the stall partition, and seizing the mare by the nose
with a mighty grasp, he inserted a forefinger behind
her tusk, for she was one of the few mares tusked
like a horse, and soon compelled her to open her mouth.
The groom staggered and would have fallen, so cruelly
had she mauled him, but Malcolm’s voice roused
him.
“For God’s sake gang oot, as lang’s
there twa limbs o’ ye stickin’ thegither.”
The poor fellow just managed to open the door, and
fell senseless on the stones. Lord Liftore called
for help, and they carried him into the saddle room,
while one ran for the nearest surgeon.
Meantime Malcolm was putting a muzzle on Kelpie, which
he believed she understood as a punishment, and while
he was thus occupied, his lordship came from the saddle
room and approached the box.
“Who are you?” he said. “I
think I have seen you before.”
“I was servant to the late Marquis of Lossie,
my lord, and now I am groom to her ladyship.”
“What a fury you’ve brought up with you!
She’ll never do for London.”
“I told the man not to go near her, my lord.”
“What’s the use of her if no one can go
near her?”
“I can, my lord.”
“By Jove, she’s a splendid creature to
look at! but I don’t know what you can do with
her here, my man. She’s fit to go double
with Satan himself.”
“She’ll do for me to ride after my lady
well enough. If only I had room to exercise her
a bit!”
“Take her into the park early in the morning,
and gallop her round. Only mind she don’t
break your neck. What can have made Lady Lossie
send for such a devil as that!”
