may be seen to this hour, resting in gloomy relief on
the white deep sands that extend considerably in that
direction.

"Never mind, my boy, we shall be at home presently,"
pursued Sampson, patting the neck of his unquiet companion.
"But no, I had forgotten; we must give chase to these
(hiccup) to these rascals. Now there's that son Bill of
mine fast asleep, I suppose, in the arms of his little
wife. They do nothing but lie in bed, while their poor
old father is obliged to be up at all hours, devising
plans for the good of the King's service, God bless him!
But I shall soon (hiccup)!--Whoa Silvertail! whoa I say.
D--n you, you brute, do you mean to throw me?"

The restlessness of Silvertail, despite of his rider's
caresses had been visibly increasing as they approached
the dark cluster of walnuts. Arrived opposite to this,
his ears and tail erect, he had evinced even more than
restlessness--alarm: and something, that did not meet
the eye of his rider, caused him to take a sideward spring
of several feet. It was this action that, nearly unseating
Sampson, had drawn from him the impatient exclamation
just recorded.

At length the thicket was passed, and Silvertail, recovered
from his alarm, moved forward once more on the bound, in
obedience to the well known whistle of his master.

"Good speed have they made," again mused Sampson, as he