sir nigel-第6部分

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son　should　have　betwixt　his　thighs；　and　here　is　the　one　of　all
others　which　I　would　have　chosen；　since　some　small　deed　is　to　be
done　in　the　winning　of　him；　and　some　honorable　advancement　to　be
gained。　　How　is　the　horse　called？〃

〃Its　name；〃　said　the　franklin；　〃is　Pommers。　　I　warn　you；　young
sir；　that　none　may　ride　him；　for　many　have　tried；　and　the　luckiest
is　he　who　has　only　a　staved　rib　to　show　for　it。〃

〃I　thank　you　for　your　rede；〃　said　Nigel；　〃and　now　I　see　that　this
is　indeed　a　horse　which　I　would　journey　far　to　meet。　　I　am　your
man；　Pommers；　and　you　are　my　horse；　and　this　night　you　shall　own
it　or　I　will　never　need　horse　again。　　My　spirit　against　thine；　and
God　hold　thy　spirit　high；　Pommers；　so　that　the　greater　be　the
adventure；　and　the　more　hope　of　honor　gained！〃

While　he　spoke　the　young　Squire　had　climbed　on　to　the　top　of　the
wall　and　stood　there　balanced；　the　very　image　of　grace　and　spirit
and　gallantry；　his　bridle　hanging　from　one　hand　and　his　whip
grasped　in　the　other。　　With　a　fierce　snort；　the　horse　made　for　him
instantly；　and　his　white　teeth　flashed　as　he　snapped；　but　again　a
heavy　blow　from　the　loaded　whip　caused　him　to　swerve；　and　even　at
the　instant　of　the　swerve；　measuring　the　distance　with　steady
eyes；　and　bending　his　supple　body　for　the　spring；　Nigel　bounded
into　the　air　and　fell　with　his　legs　astride　the　broad　back　of　the
yellow　horse。　　For　a　minute；　with　neither　saddle　nor　stirrups　to
help　him；　and　the　beast　ramping　and　rearing　like　a　mad　thing
beneath　him；　he　was　hard　pressed　to　hold　his　own。　　His　legs　were
like　two　bands　of　steel　welded　on　to　the　swelling　arches　of　the
great　horse's　ribs；　and　his　left　hand　was　buried　deep　in　the　tawny
mane。

Never　had　the　dull　round　of　the　lives　of　the　gentle　brethren　of
Waverley　been　broken　by　so　fiery　a　scene。　　Springing　to　right　and
swooping　to　left；　now　with　its　tangled　wicked　head　betwixt　its
forefeet；　and　now　pawing　eight　feet　high　in　the　air；　with　scarlet；
furious　nostrils　and　maddened　eyes；　the　yellow　horse　was　a　thing
of　terror　and　of　beauty。　　But　the　lithe　figure　on　his　back；
bending　like　a　reed　in　the　wind　to　every　movement；　firm　below；
pliant　above；　with　calm　inexorable　face；　and　eyes　which　danced　and
gleamed　with　the　joy　of　contest；　still　held　its　masterful　place
for　all　that　the　fiery　heart　and　the　iron　muscles　of　the　great
beast　could　do。

Once　a　long　drone　of　dismay　rose　from　the　monks；　as　rearing　higher
and　higher　yet　a　last　mad　effort　sent　the　creature　toppling　over
backward　upon　its　rider。　　But；　swift　and　cool；　he　had　writhed　from
under　it　ere　it　fell；　spurned　it　with　his　foot　as　it　rolled　upon
the　earth；　and　then　seizing　its　mane　as　it　rose　swung　himself
lightly　on　to　its　back　once　more。　　Even　the　grim　sacrist　could　not
but　join　the　cheer；　as　Pommers；　amazed　to　find　the　rider　still
upon　his　back；　plunged　and　curveted　down　the　field。

But　the　wild　horse　only　swelled　into　a　greater　fury。　　In　the
sullen　gloom　of　its　untamed　heart　there　rose　the　furious　resolve
to　dash　the　life　from　this　clinging　rider；　even　if　it　meant
destruction　to　beast　and　man。　　With　red；　blazing　eyes　it　looked
round　for　death。　　On　three　sides　the　five…virgate　field　was
bounded　by　a　high　wall；　broken　only　at　one　spot　by　a　heavy
four…foot　wooden　gate。　　But　on　the　fourth　side　was　a　low　gray
building；　one　of　the　granges　of　the　Abbey；　presenting　a　long　flank
unbroken　by　door　or　window。　　The　horse　stretched　itself　into　a
gallop；　and　headed　straight　for　that　craggy　thirty…foot　wall。　　He
would　break　in　red　ruin　at　the　base　of　it　if　he　could　but　dash
forever　the　life　of　this　man；　who　claimed　mastery　over　that　which
had　never　found　its　master　yet。

The　great　haunches　gathered　under　it；　the　eager　hoofs　drummed　the
grass；　as　faster　and　still　more　fast　the　frantic　horse　bore
himself　and　his　rider　toward　the　wall。　　Would　Nigel　spring　off？
To　do　so　would　be　to　bend　his　will　to　that　of　the　beast　beneath
him。　　There　was　a　better　way　than　that。　　Cool；　quick　and　decided；
the　man　swiftly　passed　both　whip　and　bridle　into　the　left　hand
which　still　held　the　mane。　　Then　with　the　right　he　slipped　his
short　mantle　from　his　shoulders　and　lying　forward　along　the
creature's　strenuous；　rippling　back　he　cast　the　flapping　cloth
over　the　horse's　eyes。

The　result　was　but　too　successful；　for　it　nearly　brought　about　the
downfall　of　the　rider。　　When　those　red　eyes　straining　for　death
were　suddenly　shrouded　in　unexpected　　darkness　the　amazed　horse
propped　on　its　forefeet　and　came　to　so　dead　a　stop　that　Nigel　was
shot　forward　on　to　its　neck　and　hardly　held　himself　by　his
hair…entwined　hand。　　Ere　he　had　slid　back　into　position　the　moment
of　danger　had　passed；　for　the　horse；　its　purpose　all　blurred　in
its　mind　by　this　strange　thing　which　had　befallen；　wheeled　round
once　more；　trembling　in　every　fiber；　and　tossing　its　petulant　head
until　at　last　the　mantle　had　been　slipped　from　its　eyes　and　the
chilling　darkness　had　melted　into　the　homely　circle　of　sunlit
grass　once　more。

But　what　was　this　new　outrage　which　had　been　inflicted　upon　it？
What　was　this　defiling　bar　of　iron　which　was　locked　hard　against
its　mouth？　　What　were　these　straps　which　galled　the　tossing　neck；
this　band　which　spanned　its　chest？　　In　those　instants　of　stillness
ere　the　mantle　had　been　plucked　away　Nigel　had　lain　forward；　had
slipped　the　snaffle　between　the　champing　teeth；　and　had　deftly
secured　it。

Blind；　frantic　fury　surged　in　the　yellow　horse's　heart　once　more
at　this　new　degradation；　this　badge　of　serfdom　and　infamy。　　His
spirit　rose　high　and　menacing　at　the　touch。　　He　loathed　this
place；　these　people；　all　and　everything　which　threatened　his
freedom。　　He　would　have　done　with　them　forever；　he　would　see　them
no　more。　　Let　him　away　to　the　uttermost　parts　of　the　earth；　to　the
great　plains　where　freedom　is。　　Anywhere　over　the　far　horizon
where　he　could　get　away　from　the　defiling　bit　and　the　insufferable
mastery　of　man。

He　turned　with　a　rush；　and　one　magnificent　deer…like　bound　carried
him　over　the　four…foot　gate。　　Nigel's　hat　had　flown　off；　and　his
yellow　curls　streamed　behind　him　as　he　rose　and　fell　in　the　leap。
They　were　in　the　water…meadow　now；　and　the　rippling　stream　twenty
feet　wide　gleamed　in　front　of　them　running　down　to　the　main
current　of　the　Wey。　　The　yellow　horse　gathered　his　haunches　under
him　and　flew　over　like　an　arrow。　　He　took　off　from　behind　a
boulder　and　cleared　a　furze…bush　on　the　farther　side。　　Two　stones
still　mark　the　leap　from　hoof…mark　to　hoof…mark；　and　they　are
eleven　good　paces　apart。　　Under　the　hanging　branch　of　the　great
oak…tree　on　the　farther　side　（that　Quercus　Tilfordiensis　ordiensis
is　still　shown　as　the　bound　of　the　Abby's　immediate　precincts）　the
great　horse　passed。　　He　had　hoped　to　sweep　off　his　rider；　but
Nigel　sank　low　on　the　heaving　back　with　his　face　buried　in　the
flying　mane。　　The　rough　bough　rasped　him　rudely；　but　never　shook
his　spirit　nor　his　grip。　　Rearing；　plunging　and　struggling；
Pommers　broke　through　the　sapling　grove　and　was　out　on　the　broad
stretch　of　Hankley　Down。

And　now　came　such　a　ride　as　still　lingers　in　the　gossip　of　the
lowly　country　folk　and　forms　the　rude　jingle　of　that　old　Surrey
ballad；　now　nearly　forgotten；　save　for　the　refrain：

　　　　　　　　　　　The　Doe　that　sped　on　Hinde　Head；
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　The　Kestril　on　the　winde；
　　　　　　　　　　　And　Nigel　on　the　Yellow　Horse
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Can　leave　the　world　behinde。

Before　them　lay　a　rolling　ocean　of　dark　heather；　knee…deep；
swelling　in　billow　on　billow　up　to　the　clear…cut　hill　before　them。
Above　stretched　one　unbroken　arch　of　peaceful　blue；　with　a　sun
which　was　sinking　down　toward　the　Hampshire　hills。　　Through　the
deep　heather；　down　the　gullies；　over　the　watercourses；　up　the
broken　slopes；　Pommers　flew；　his　great　heart　bursting　with　rage；
and　every　fiber　quivering　at　the　indignities　which　he　had　endured。

And　still；　do　what　he　would；　the　man　clung　fast　to　his　heaving
sides　and　to　his　flying　mane；　silent；　motionless；　inexorable；
letting　him　do　what　he　would；　but　fixed　as　Fate　upon　his　purpose。
Over　Hankley　Down；　through　Thursley　Marsh；　with　the　reeds　up　to
his　mud…splashed　withers；　onward　up　the　long　slope　of　the　Headland
of　the　Hinds；　down　by　the　Nutcombe　Gorge；　slipping；　blundering；
bounding；　but　never　slackening　his　fearful　speed；　on　went　the
great　yellow　horse。　　The　villagers　of　Shottermill　heard　the　wild
clatter　of　hoofs；　but　ere　they　could　swing　the　ox…hide　curtains　of
their　cottage　doors　horse　and　rider　were　lost　amid　the　high
bracken　of　the　Haslemere　Valley。　　On　he　went；　and　on；　tossing　the
miles　behind　his　flying　hoofs。　　No　marsh…land　could　clog　him；　no
hill　could　hold　him　back。　　Up　the　slope　of　Linchmere　and　the　long
ascent　of　Fernhurst　he　thundered　as　on　the　level；　and　it　was　not
until　he　had　flown　down　the　incline　of　Henley　Hill；　and　the　gray
castle　tower　of　Midhurst　rose　over　the　coppice　in　front；　that　at
last　the　eager　outstretched　neck　sank　a　little　on　the　breast；　and
the　breath　came　quick　and　fast。　　Look　where　he　would　in　woodland
and　on　down；　his　straining　eyes　could　catch　no　sign　of　those
plains　of　freedom　which　he　sought。

And　yet　another　outrage！　　It　was　bad　that　this　creature　should
still　cl