As I was driving home, the lights in my gig
frightened the animal." "Where is the horse?" said I. "Below, in my
stable," said the elderly individual. "I saw you fall, but knowing that
on account of my age I could be of little use to you, I instantly hurried
home, the accident did not occur more than a furlong off, and procuring
the assistance of my lad, and two or three neighbouring cottagers, I
returned to the spot where you were lying senseless. We raised you up,
and brought you here. My lad then went in quest of the horse, who had
run away as we drew nigh. When we saw him first, he was standing near
you; he caught him with some difficulty, and brought him home." "What
are you about?" said the old man, as I strove to get off the bed. "I
want to see the horse," said I. "I entreat you to be still," said the
old man; "the horse is safe, I assure you." "I am thinking about his
knees," said I. "Instead of thinking about your horse's knees," said the
old man, "be thankful that you have not broke your own neck." "You do
not talk wisely," said I; "when a man's neck is broke he is provided for;
but when his horse's knees are broke he is a lost jockey, that is, if he
has nothing but his horse to depend upon. A pretty figure I should cut
at Horncastle, mounted on a horse blood-raw at the knees." "Oh, you are
going to Horncastle," said the old man, seriously, "then I can sympathise
with you in your anxiety about your horse, being a Lincolnshire man, and
the son of one who bred horses. I will myself go down into the stable,
and examine into the condition of your horse, so pray remain quiet till I
return; it would certainly be a terrible thing to appear at Horncastle on
a broken-kneed horse."

He left the room, and returned at the end of about ten minutes, followed
by another person. "Your horse is safe," said he, "and his knees are
unblemished; not a hair ruffled. He is a fine animal, and will do credit
to Horncastle; but here is the surgeon come to examine into your own
condition." The surgeon was a man about thirty-five, thin, and rather
tall; his face was long and pale, and his hair, which was light, was
carefully combed back as much as possible from his forehead. He was
dressed very neatly, and spoke in a very precise tone. "Allow me to feel
your pulse, friend?" said 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 a