"Your horse is safe," said he, "and his knees are unblemished; not a hair ruffled.

He is a fine animal, and will do credit to Horncastle; but here is the surgeon come to examine into your own condition." The surgeon was a man about thirty-five, thin, and rather tall; his face was long and pale, and his hair, which was light, was carefully combed back as much as possible from his forehead.

He was dressed very neatly, and spoke in a very precise tone.

"Allow me to feel your pulse, friend ?" said he, taking me by the right wrist.

I uttered a cry, for at the motion which he caused a thrill of agony darted through my arm.