“You are quite right, I think. Curses light on the horse!" he added, seizing the bridle of his steed, who continued snorting and shivering, as if still under the influence of some unaccountable alarm; "what can ail him?" "I know what ails him, your honour," rejoined the groom, riding up as he spoke; "he's seen somethin' not o' this world. Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. Twice she smiled, but not unkindly. ’ ‘To you,’ she said angrily.
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