biting vigorously at his manger, and Richard could see the white of
one eye glaring at him askance in the gloom.

'Dunnot go nigh him, sir,' cried Jacob Fortune, who had come up
behind. 'Thou knows not his tricks. His name be his nature, and we
call him Beelzebub when master Stopchase be not by. I be right glad
to see your honour up again.'

Jacob was too old to go to the wars, and too indifferent to regret
it; but he was faithful, and had authority over the few men left.

'I thank you, Jacob,' said Richard. 'What brute is this? I know him
not.'

'We all knows him too well, master Richard, though verily Stopchase
bought him but the day before he rode, thinking belike he might
carry an ear or two of wheat. If he be not very good he was not
parlous dear; he paid for him but an old song. He was warranted to
have work in him if a man but knew how to get it out.'

'He is ugly.'

'He is the ugliest horse, cart-horse, nag, or courser, on this
creation-side,' said the old man, '--ugly enough to fright to death
where he doth fail in his endeavour to kill. The men are all mortal
feared on him, for he do kick and he do bite like the living Satan.
He wonnot go in no cart, but there he do stand eating on his head
off as fast as he can. An' the brute were mine, I would slay him; I
would, in good sooth.'