went comfortably to sleep after his hurt had been dressed, and so I
left him. I will say at once that he felt no more trouble from it.

Then I went to the stables to see how fared my horse after the
day's work, and found him enjoying his feed after grooming. I
looked him over, but I could see no mark to show where the man
might have hurt him. But as I was running my hand along the smooth
hock to feel for any bruise, my groom said to me:

"Have you had a roll in a thorn bush, Master?"

"No.--What makes you think I might have had one?"

"I found this in his flank when I rubbed him down, and it was run
thus far into him."

He held out a long stiff blackthorn spine, marking a full inch on
its length with his thumbnail.

"Enough to set a horse wild for a moment," he went on. "And unless
you had fallen, I could not think how it got there."

"In which flank was it?" I asked, taking the thorn from him.

"The near flank, Master."

That was where the thrall ran against him, and surely the huntsman
was not so far wrong when he said that he did so on purpose. If so,
it was done at the right moment to give me a heavy fall, save for a
bit of luck, or maybe horsemanship. It was a strange business.