the head of his horse, who, already exasperated by sharp and sudden spurring, neighed wildly, reared, plunged, kicked, and finally set off at a mad gallop on the road toward Plymouth.
Major Bradford turned in his saddle, and stared after the fugitive for a long minute, then, raising his cocked hat, bowed ceremoniously toward the retreating figure, saying:
"A pleasant ride to you, friend, and so soon as I arrive at my brother Southworth's house I will take care to send a swift messenger to Plymouth with testimonials to your character. But glad am I that you left my rokelay behind, albeit in the dust."
So saying, the major dismounted, deliberately picked up his cloak, examined the parted fastening, and finally, throwing it loosely over his shoulders, led his horse to a convenient stump and remounted.
"'Tis best to see whether Orlando Furioso gathered up his reins, or if the nag hampered himself and flung his rider," muttered the major, resuming his road and noting the deep imprint of the flying horse's feet. Passing with only a reluctant glance the road that led to Constant Southworth's and the wedding feast, Master Bradford again soliloquized a little:—
"Ah! he'll come to David Alden's by this road, and they'll care for him if he's in straits. David has two comely daughters left, though John Seabury has carried off my sweetheart Bessie. Well, well! 'tis the way of a man with a maid;
