Chapter 2: The Hunt
There was now riding off in all directions to the doctor's, to the farrier's,
and no doubt to Squire Gordon's, to let him know about his son.
When Mr. Bond, the farrier, came to look at the black horse
that lay groaning on the grass, he felt him all over, and shook his head;
one of his legs was broken. Then some one ran to our master's house
and came back with a gun; presently there was a loud bang
and a dreadful shriek, and then all was still; the black horse moved no more.
My mother seemed much troubled; she said she had known that horse for years,
and that his name was "Rob Roy"; he was a good horse, and there was
no vice in him. She never would go to that part of the field afterward.
Not many days after we heard the church-bell tolling for a long time,
and looking over the gate we saw a long, strange black coach
that was covered with black cloth and was drawn by black horses;
after that came another and another and another, and all were black,
while the bell kept tolling, tolling. They were carrying young Gordon
to the churchyard to bury him. He would never ride again.
What they did with Rob Roy I never knew; but 'twas all for one little hare.