Then going towards the window, and changing into a familiar tone as if to
divert the conversation, he added, 'What a delicious afternoon! I look
forward to my ride with delight. You rest here?'

'No; I go on to Nottingham, where I shall sleep.'

'And I in the opposite direction.' And he rang the bell, and ordered his
horse.

'I long to see your mare again,' said Coningsby. 'She seemed to me so
beautiful.'

'She is not only of pure race,' said the stranger, 'but of the highest and
rarest breed in Arabia. Her name is "the Daughter of the Star." She is a
foal of that famous mare, which belonged to the Prince of the Wahabees;
and to possess which, I believe, was one of the principal causes of war
between that tribe and the Egyptians. The Pacha of Egypt gave her to me,
and I would not change her for her statue in pure gold, even carved by
Lysippus. Come round to the stable and see her.'

They went out together. It was a soft sunny afternoon; the air fresh from
the rain, but mild and exhilarating.

The groom brought forth the mare. 'The Daughter of the Star' stood before
Coningsby with her sinewy shape of matchless symmetry; her burnished skin,
black mane, legs like those of an antelope, her little ears, dark speaking
eye, and tail worthy of a Pacha. And who was her master, and whither was
she about to take him?

Coningsby was so naturally well-bred, that we may be sure it was not