"Noblemen. Barleycorn had sent to the mat for the count of nine: unless the young fool's daddy had a bundle of coin. 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. They had asked her to come to the first of the two great annual Fadden Dances, the October one, and Ann Veronica had accepted with enthusiasm. I got to have you under guard in the gatehouse, I can see that.
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