"Come Bess,—no whimpering. She made up her mind in the train home that it should be a decisive crisis. The air was crisp and dry. You never can tell. 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. I trust that no unpleasant rumours will be circulated before the election, at any rate.
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