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His eyes wandered from the sunset to where the long white road lost itself over the south-western horizon and to a horseman who toiled slowly up the hill. A few more minutes and the horseman was near enough for his little and shapeless body, his long Irish cloak, and the dilapidated bagpipes hanging from his shoulders, and the rough-haired garron under him, to be seen distinctly in the grey dusk.
I'm sure she will; there's so much running about her. Was she at plough after last winter, Pat?" "She had other work to do, then, for she had to carry me twice a week through the season; and that she did and that's not light work, I think." "Carry you, Pat!" said Gayner; "why, you don't mean to say you hunt that old garron you call Diana?
The Strokestown garron did not create much emulation, but Peter Dillon, knowing that though Pat had only one eye, that one was a good one, and that he wouldn't lose the race for want of hard work and patience, and having little Larry's three pound ten in his pocket to back him, at length doubled Keegan's offer of half-a-crown which he made to keep his own ticket, and Diana was knocked down to him at the same price that Crom-a-boo had fetched.
Who then were astonished but those knights, as they saw the ugly potter's garron gaining on them length after length, till she and her rider had left them far behind?
At daybreak, the beginning of one of these delicious spring days, Garron, hearing a sharp cry without, rose abruptly and unbolted his barrier. He would have stepped out and across his threshold had not his bare foot touched something heavy and soft. He looked down still half asleep then he started back in a sort of dull amazement.
To do it often required unremitting exertion. And then, in spite of all his care, misfortunes would come. "A cursed garron, of whom nobody had ever heard the name! If a man mayn't take the liberty with such a brute as that, when is he to take a liberty?"
Three days later Garron passed through the modest village of Hirondelette, an unknown vagabond. He looked so poor that a priest in passing gave him ten sous. "Courage, my son," counselled the good man "you will get work soon. Try the farm below, they are in need of hands." "May you never be in want, father," Garron strangled out huskily in reply.
For years it had guided some good ship safe into port then the wreck occurred. For weeks after months, perhaps it had drifted at sea until it found a resting place on the beach and was stolen by Garron to serve him as a strong barrier.
Garron knew the road as well as his pocket it was a favourite with him when he did not wish to be seen. Now and then the girl sang in a maudlin way: "Entrez, entrez, messieurs, C'est l'amour qui vous attend." It was gray dawn when they reached the edge of the Great Marsh that lay smothered under a blanket of chill mist.
"I am neither spy nor Fleming; but a poor servant of the Lord Bishop of Utrecht's, buying a garron or two for his lordship's priests. As for these Flemings, may St. John Baptist save from them both me and you. Do you know of any man who has horses to sell hereabouts?"
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