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. "Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. An old man with a bent back who limped in, slow and stiff, leaning heavily on a cane. Altogether, it was a hideous and revolting sight. To-night we leave for Marseilles.
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