aid he, taking me by the right wrist. I uttered a
cry, for at the motion which he caused a thrill of agony darted through
my arm. "I hope your arm is not broke, my friend," said the surgeon,
"allow me to see; first of all, we must divest you of this cumbrous
frock."

The frock was removed with some difficulty, and then the upper vestments
of my frame, with more difficulty still. The surgeon felt my arm, moving
it up and down, causing me unspeakable pain. "There is no fracture,"
said he, at last, "but a contusion--a violent contusion. I am told you
were going to Horncastle; I am afraid you will be hardly able to ride
your horse thither in time to dispose of him; however, we shall see--your
arm must be bandaged, friend; after which I shall bleed you, and
administer a composing draught."

To be short, the surgeon did as he proposed, and when he had administered
the composing draught, he said, "Be of good cheer; I should not be
surprised if you are yet in time for Horncastle." He then departed with
the master of the house, and the woman, leaving me to my repose. I soon
began to feel drowsy, and was just composing myself to slumber, lying on
my back, as the surgeon had advised me, when I heard steps ascending the
stairs, and in a moment more the surgeon entered again, followed by the
master of the house. "I hope I don't disturb you," said the former; "my
reason for returning is to relieve your mind from any anxiety with
respect to your horse. I am by no means sure that you will be able,
owing to your accident, to reach Horncastle in time: to quiet you,
however, I will buy your horse for any reasonable sum. I have been down
to the stable, and approve of his figure. What do you ask for him?"
"This is a strange time of night," said I, "to come to me about
purchasing my horse, and I am hardly in a fitting situation to be applied
to about such a matter. What do you want him for?" "For my own use,"
said the surgeon; "I am a professional man, and am obliged to be
continually driving about; I cover at least one hundred and fifty miles
every week." "He will never answer your purpose," said I, "he is not a
driving horse, and was never between shafts in his life; he is for
riding, more especially for trotting, at which he has few equals." "It
matters not to me whether he is for riding or driving," said the surgeon,
"sometimes I ride, sometimes drive; so, if we can come to terms, I will
buy him, though remember it is chi