Чорний красень

18 Going for the Doctor

           WhenwecametothebridgeJohnpulledmeupalittleandpattedmyneck.“Welldone,Beauty!goodoldfellow,”hesaid.Hewouldhaveletmegoslower,butmyspiritwasup,andIwasoffagainasfastasbefore.Theairwasfrosty,themoonwasbright;itwasverypleasant.Wecamethroughavillage,thenthroughadarkwood,thenuphill,thendownhill,tillaftereightmiles’runwecametothetown,throughthestreetsandintothemarket-place.Itwasallquitestillexcepttheclatterofmyfeetonthestones—everybodywasasleep.ThechurchclockstruckthreeaswedrewupatDr.White’sdoor.Johnrangthebelltwice,andthenknockedatthedoorlikethunder.Awindowwasthrownup,andDr.White,inhisnightcap,puthisheadoutandsaid,“Whatdoyouwant?”

           “Mrs.Gordonisveryill,sir;masterwantsyoutogoatonce;hethinksshewilldieifyoucannotgetthere.Hereisanote.”

           “Wait,”hesaid,“Iwillcome.”

           Heshutthewindow,andwassoonatthedoor.

           “Theworstofitis,”hesaid,“thatmyhorsehasbeenoutalldayandisquitedoneup;mysonhasjustbeensentfor,andhehastakentheother.Whatistobedone?CanIhaveyourhorse?”

           “Hehascomeatagallopnearlyalltheway,sir,andIwastogivehimaresthere;butIthinkmymasterwouldnotbeagainstit,ifyouthinkfit,sir.”

           “Allright,”hesaid;“Iwillsoonbeready.”

           Johnstoodbymeandstrokedmyneck;Iwasveryhot.Thedoctorcameoutwithhisriding-whip.

           “Youneednottakethat,sir,”saidJohn;“BlackBeautywillgotillhedrops.

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Roboto Lora
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