The Unknown Ajax by Georgette Heyer Page A

merged rapidly into thick woods on the northern and western fronts. Below Hugo’s window, a part of the gardens, which appeared to be extensive though not in very trim order, lay between the house and the park; and the Military Canal and, beyond it, the Weiland Marsh stretched into a distance still shrouded in morning mist The day was fresh but fair; it beckoned compellingly; and within a very short space of time Hugo, fortified by a thick ham sandwich and a pint of Kentish ale, supplied to him by a pleasantly fluttered kitchenmaid, had set out for an exploratory ramble round the park. He returned by way of the stables, which were situated to the west of the house. They had been built to accommodate many more horses than now stood in the stalls, and were ranged round several cobbled yards. Only two of these seemed to be in use; in the others weeds were pushing up between the cobbles, and rows of shut doors, the paint on them blistered and cracked with age, lent a melancholy air of decay to the scene. The Major found his groom, a middle-aged Yorkshireman of stocky build and dour countenance, severely repelling the mischievous advances of a plump damsel in a print frock and a mob cap. To judge by the grin on the face of one of the stableboys, who had paused, bucket in hand, to listen to her sallies, she was full of liveliness and wit; but when she saw Hugo coming across the yard she fell into a twitter of embarrassment, dropped a hasty curtsy, and ran away.
    “Set up a flirt already, have you?” remarked Hugo. “I’m surprised at you, John Joseph, at your time of life!”
    “That giglet!” snorted his servitor. “I’ bahn to take t’gray to the stithy, Mester Hugo: he’s got a shoe loose, like I told you.”
    “How’s Rufus?”
    “Champion!”
    “Good! I’ll take a look at him. All well with you, John Joseph?”
    “I’m suited,” responded John Joseph stolidly. He cast an upward sidelong glance at his master’s face, and added in a rougher tone: “Tha knows we mun be suited, Mester Hugo, choose how!”
    The blue eyes gave nothing away, but there was a hint of mulishness about the Major’s firm lips. “Maybe! We’ll see!”
    “Tha’s quality-make, like t’gaffer used to say,” urged John Joseph. “Nay then, sir—! If tha’s bahn to be a lord, think on—”
    “I am thinking,” Hugo answered. He smiled. “Hold thy gab, John Joseph!” “Mester Hugo! If t’gaffer could hear thee—!” “I’d get a bang on the lug. But—”
    “Sneck up!” commanded his henchman. “Here comes his lordship, and Mester Richmond! I mun fettle t’tits.”
    With these words he withdrew into the stable, just as Lord Darracott and Richmond, who had been out at exercise, dismounted.
    “Ha! Glad to see you’re up and about!” said his lordship. “I’ve no patience with young fellows who lie abed till all hours. Another morning you may come out with me: no use suggesting it to you last night: you’ll need to rest your horses. I’ll take a look at ’em,” “Ay, sir, do! They’re neither of them the equal of this fellow,” said Hugo, patting the neck of Richmond’s colt, “but the bay’s a prime fencer, and strong in work. He has need to be!” “H’m! Pity you’
    re so big!” commented his lordship. “What do you ride? Seventeen stone?” “All of that,” admitted Hugo. “Eh, lad, you’ve got a proper high-bred ’un here!” “Do you like him?” Richmond asked eagerly. “He’s young—pretty green still, but a perfect mover! I broke him myself.”
    Lord Darracott, leaving Richmond to show off his treasure, went into the stable, and was soon heard putting curt questions to John Joseph. It seemed doubtful that he would find John Joseph’s answers intelligible, but he apparently understood enough to satisfy him, for when he presently emerged he rather surprisingly told Hugo that he had a good man there, who knew his work. He bestowed moderate praise on Rufus, the big bay, but dismissed the