Всадник без головы / The Headless Horseman

Hush! what’s that?”

Tara springing up from his couch of skin, and rushing out with a low growl, had caused the exclamation.

“Phelim!” called a voice from the outside. “Phelim!”

“It’s the master,” muttered Phelim, as he jumped from his stool, and followed the dog through the doorway.

Phelim was not mistaken. It was the voice of his master, Maurice Gerald. As the servant should have expected, his master was mounted upon his horse.

The blood-bay was not alone. At the end of the lazo – drawn from the saddle tree – was a captive.

It was a mustang of peculiar appearance, as regarded its markings; which were of a kind rarely seen. The colour of the mustang was a ground of dark chocolate in places approaching to black – with white spots distributed over it.

The creature was of perfect shape. It was of large size for a mustang, though much smaller than the ordinary English horse.

Phelim had never seen his master return from a horse-hunting excursion in such a state of excitement; even when coming back – as he often did – with half a dozen mustangs led loosely at the end of his lazo.

“Master Maurice, you have caught the spotty at last!” cried he, as he set eyes upon the captive. “It’s a mare! Where will you put her, master? Into the corral, with the others?”

“No, she might get kicked among them. We shall tie her in the shed. Did you ever see anything so beautiful as she is, Phelim – I mean in the way of horseflesh?”

“Never, Master Maurice; never, in all my life!

The spotted mare was soon stabled in the shed, Castro being temporarily attached to a tree.

The mustanger threw himself on his horse-skin couch, wearied with the work of the day. The capture of the spotted mustang had cost him a long and arduous chase – such as he had never ridden before in pursuit of a mustang.

Notwithstanding that he had spent several days in the saddle – the last three in constant pursuit of the spotted mare – he was unable to obtain repose.

At intervals he rose to his feet, and paced the floor of his hut, as if stirred by some exciting emotion.

For several nights he had slept uneasily till not only his henchman[18 - henchman – помощник, слуга] Phelim, but his hound Tara, wondered what could be the meaning of his unrest.

At length Phelim determined on questioning his master as to the cause of his inquietude.