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Updated: June 9, 2025
Good horse!" cried the girl as the black pony flashed across the steep slope of the ragged mountain side like a winged thing. "Boyar! Boy!" She shivered as the loose shale, ploughed by the pony's flying hoofs, slithered down the slope at every plunge. "Can he ride?" shouted Collie, wild tears of joy in his eyes. Suddenly Overland, glancing back, saw Tenlow stop and raise his arm.
Presently they were interrupted by a wild clatter of hoofs and the grind and screech of a hastily applied brake. The borrowed buckboard, strong, light, two-seated, and built for service, had arrived dramatically. Collie leaned back, the reins wrapped round his wrists, and his foot pressing the brake home. In the harness stood, or rather gyrated, Boyar and Collie's own pony Apache.
The general opinion was, that the stranger was the Wallachian Boyar, whose arrival at Mivart's the Morning Post had just announced. Mrs. Miles, whose delicious every other Wednesdays in Montague Square are supposed by some to be rival entertainments to Mrs.
"Because I am afraid it is not all right," answered the boy. "I was in the kitchen while it was being prepared, and saw the boyar, when the cook's back was turned, drop a powder into the dish. I do not know what all this meant, but thought it my duty to put your majesty on your guard." "Thanks for your shrewdness, my lad," said the czar; "I will bear it in mind."
But Alexander's nature had not as yet been strengthened by misfortune and religious convictions: it was a sunny background of flickering enthusiasms, flecked now and again by shadows of eastern cunning or darkened by warlike ambitions a nature in which the sentimentalism of Rousseau and the passions of a Boyar alternately gained the mastery.
"How is Boyar?" he asked, smiling a little as Louise, sitting sideways on the porch-rail, swung her foot back and forth quickly. "Oh, Boy is all right. The tramp turned him loose in the valley. Boy came home." "It was a clever bit of riding, to get the best of Tenlow on his own range. Was Dick very badly hurt?" queried Walter Stone.
Here was adventure with no raconteur's glamour, no bookish gloss. Here was Romance. Romance unshaven, illiterate, with its coat off making coffee in a smoke-blackened tomato-can, but Romance nevertheless. That this romance should touch her life, Louise had not the faintest dream. She was alone ... but, pshaw! Boyar was grazing near, and besides, she was not really afraid of the men.
"It is just 'bully. Where in the world did you unearth that word, Anne?" Dr. Marshall's offhand designation of the buckboard as "a team in a hurry" was prophetic, even unto the end. What Boyar could not accomplish in the way of equine gymnastics in harness, Apache, Collie's pony, could. Louise was a little fearful for her guests, yet she had confidence in the driver.
He loved him as he had not loved even Masha; he became more attached to him than even to Nedopyuskin. And what a horse it was! All fire simply explosive as gunpowder and stately as a boyar! Untiring, enduring, obedient, whatever you might put him to; and costing nothing for his keep; he'd be ready to nibble at the ground under his feet if there was nothing else.
He was truly a seigneur every one must allow that; and he wouldn't allow that any one was better than himself. For I may tell you, your great grandfather had such a wonderful amulet a monk from Mount Athos had given him that amulet and that monk said to him, 'I give thee this, O Boyar, in return for thy hospitality.
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