Chapter Seventeen

I couldn’t believe it. My heart was in my throat and my whole body was shaking with excitement. I was about to ride Black Beauty.

James held Beauty’s head while I mounted. It was the only part of riding like a boy I had any difficulty with, but I put my foot in the stirrup and sprang on board as lightly as I could.

Beauty danced and pranced and shook himself.

“He’s been shut inside too long,” said James. “Go up by the common and the highwood, then back by the watermill and the river. That should take the tickle out of his feet.”

“Thank you!” I couldn’t believe I was actually riding Beauty again at long last. “I’ll take him slowly to start with,” I promised.

James nodded. I knew he would be watching me from the yard and I longed to prove to him there was more to my riding than what he called “circus tricks”.

I made Beauty walk as we passed under the archway and along the drive. He swished his tail and played with his bit. He was still prancing as we passed the gatehouse but I wouldn’t let him trot. I wanted Beauty to get used to the feeling of me in the saddle. He needed to sense that I was in charge of him and calm – this would be no wild bareback gallop today.

Then, as soon as we were through the village, I squeezed my legs and let Beauty go on up the lane at a spanking trot. It was wonderful to hear his hooves on the ground and fall into a natural rising rhythm with his stride. But, as he twitched his ears at the brow of the hill, I knew we were both desperate for a sight of the common and the soft earth where we could gallop at last.

Riding bareback had been an exhilarating adventure, but galloping with a saddle was even better. We were in control, like one person – horse and rider – joined together. At first we went flat out, then slowed to a canter past the highwood. Flat out again until we saw the watermill, and trotted slowly home along the river.

“Welcome back,” said James as we walked calmly into the yard. He laid his hand on the Beauty’s neck and listened to his breathing. “Well done,” he said, nodding approvingly. “You have worked him well, but rested him properly and not tired him out.”

“He was fleet as a deer,” I cried, leaning forward to throw my arms around Beauty’s neck. “The lightest touch of the rein and he turned. The tiniest squeeze of my leg and he was off.”

James shook his head and laughed. “You enjoyed it then?” he said. But, for the first time, I did not feel he was teasing me or telling me off. He knew what I meant.

“You can take him out again tomorrow, if the mistress is still unwell,” he said. “If the master doesn’t ride I will join you on Ginger.”

As I carried the fine French saddle back to the tack room, it seemed to weigh no more than a feather. I wanted to throw it up in the air and turn a cartwheel. I wanted to shout so loud that everyone in the big house would hear me.

I had ridden the most beautiful horse in all the world and James Howard thought I had done it well.

It was a fine afternoon and, after a quick rub down, James decided to let Beauty have a graze in the home paddock with Justice, Merrylegs and Ginger.

We stood leaning on the gate and watched them for a while as they scratched each other’s necks and swished their tails under the trees.

For a long time neither of us said anything. Then James shook himself as if he had been lost in a dream.

“It would break my heart if ever I couldn’t be around horses,” he said.

“Me too,” I agreed.

I realized suddenly that it was true; with my father dead and my mother lost to me, this was what really mattered now. Horses – and especially the wonderful Black Beauty.

The mistress had not improved by the following morning and James and I did take Ginger and Beauty out for a ride together. It was fun to watch the horses prick their ears and trot along side by side. Ginger was quite used to Beauty from the stables and didn’t try to nip him or bite.

The next day was the same and James even let us race the horses at a gallop on the common. Beauty and I won by a nose. James said I should have gone away to Newmarket with Mr Manly to see if I could be a jockey, I was so small and light.

I felt proud as anything and only boasted a little to the twins about my victory when we all settled down to sleep in the loft that night.

It seemed my eyes had only been closed for a moment when we were woken by a terrible shouting from down below. The stable bell was ringing and a footman had come running from the house.

“Wake up! Wake up!” he cried. “James Howard, come quick! The master needs you.”

James leapt to his feet and we all hurried down the ladder.

“You must take this note to the doctor,” said the footman. “It is from the squire. The mistress has taken a turn for the worse and you must bring help at once.”

James took the note and scrambled back up to the loft to pull on his coat and breeches. “I’ll go this minute,” he called. “Joe, saddle Beauty for me. He is the fastest horse we have. It is a fair gallop to Doctor White’s house. Eight miles at least. . .”

The twins held a lantern each as I dashed into the tack room to grab a saddle and bridle and then to Beauty’s stall.

“I’ll push Beauty to his limits and then take the journey home more slowly,” said James, as we worked frantically to tack him. “The doctor will come on his own bay mare; make sure she is made comfortable, Joe.”

“I will,” I promised.

“Good luck, James.” Wilf glanced at the sky. “At least there’s a bright moon so you can see where you’re going.”

“Hurry,” said Sid.

I stretched out my hand to touch Black Beauty’s nose but before I could reach him, James had turned the horse’s head and galloped away.

“Take care!” I called, but my words were lost in the wind.