When he departed from his master, as we have described in the last chapter, Mr. Billing went on his way with a joyful heart. But, thinking the slow walking pace of his steed might safely be improved upon; and also considering, that if he could only prevail upon the horse to walk a little faster, it would facilitate his journey amazingly; he commenced a series of exhortations that were excellent adjuncts to the theory which advocates the superiority of persuasion to the application of force, but extremely ineffective in practice, when the subject is a quadruped of rather a stubborn nature, and perfectly ignorant of the vernacular in which he is addressed. Thus, when Mr. Billing endeavoured to accelerate the speed of his animal, by the utterance of such pathetic and endearing appeals, as "now, come along, poor old horsey;" "there's a good old horse;" "ge up;" "now, don't be angry" (as the beast showed signs of uneasiness); "walk a little faster, like a good old horse;" we say we would not have been surprised, had the horse paid no more heed to Mr. Billing's entreaties than we should be likely to do, were we addressed in a lively asinine interpellation, by one of those animals, whose peculiar idiosyncrasies are proverbial. But, strange to say in this case, the horse did notice the requests of his rider. Whether he was an animal of superior discernment, and detected the wishes of Mr. Billing in the tone of that gentleman's appeals; or, whether the intonation sounded to his ears strange and novel, and stimulated him with a desire to accommodate the applicant; or, whether he himself became anxious to reach his destination, to realize his visions of a stable and a feed, we cannot venture to say. But we simply record the fact, that Mr. Billing's request to the "old horse" was complied with; and the quadruped went off in a step, which was an incongruous mixture of a shambling walk, a canter, and a trot.

That fable of the frogs, who in answer to their prayer for a king, obtained a carnivorous monarch of the aves genus, has no doubt been forcibly impressed on the memories of our readers during their scholastic probation. They will readily, then, understand the feelings of Mr. Billing, when he imprecated his rashness for disturbing the equanimity of his horse's pace; and we are convinced that the animals in the apologue never prayed more fervently for a discontinuance of their visitation than he did for an alleviation of his misery. All his "woa's," and "stop old horse's," were perfectly unavailing; the quadruped proceeded without the slightest notice, and with the greatest unconcern. But the torment to the biped was dreadful. What was he to do? He had uttered the talismanic syllable, that had called up the spirit; while he was not possessed of the power to exorcise it. His agony of body, was only equalled by that of his mind. He remembered Mr. Rainsfield had said the animal never went out of one step; and if that in which he then was should be the step, which he would of a necessity continue during the whole of the journey, what would become of him? The thought was horrible and insuperable; but he, Mr. Billing, the quondam pride of Thames Street, could not answer it; and in a stoical distress of mind he gave vent to a sigh, which seemed to jolt out by inches the centre of his little fastidious anatomy. He a thousand times wished himself back again, safe alongside the partner of his bosom; when no power on earth should persuade him to submit again to so ignoble a position and spectacle, as a ride on horseback. But something must be done, he thought; for as the horse proceeded in his jogging step, so did Mr. Billing continue to be battered by his jolting.

The unfortunate equestrian was a perfect picture of distress. At every step of the animal, he was almost bounded from his seat. He could not speak, for the breath was almost shaken out of his body; while he dared not look around for fear of losing his equilibrium. He had also lost his hold of the bridle, which he dropt on the horse's neck; while he seized the pommel of the saddle for his further security, with the air and grasp of a resolute man who preferred even torture to the indignity of being unseated.

What Mr. Billing's appearance was, when he was undergoing this ordeal, our readers who have witnessed a first riding lesson can easily imagine; and would, no doubt, were they witnesses of the scene, be ready to laugh at the victim's sufferings as we penitently confess ourselves to have done. Our friend's torture, however, continued as he turned over in his mind the best means of obtaining relief. If he should be so far fortunate as to meet any one in the road who would kindly stop the refractory animal, he thought, how grateful he would be; but of that he feared there was little chance. A thought, however, struck him and suddenly illumined his perturbed spirit. Why could he not stop him himself? It never occurred to him before, but now he experienced a gleam of hope; he thought, if he could but pull the bridle, the animal would cease his torturing career. But then how was he to effect this? If he relinquished his hold, he might lose his seat; however, he determined to try, and, summoning all his energies to his aid, he suddenly relaxed his grasp of the saddle, seized the bridle, and gave it as violent a tug as his strength would permit. His object, however, was not gained; for in his avidity to stop the horse he had pulled on the one side of the bridle, and his Rosinante, instead of slackening his speed to the desired pace, turned his head and looked Cyclops-like at his rider, in a way that said as plainly as looks could: "What is it you want?" But we have already stated that Mr. Billing was not versed in the significance of horse's looks, so he understood it not; but continued to tug with a violence that threatened his own downfall, and the dislocation of the quadruped's jaw.

Servants, however industrious and painstaking, may sometimes find it difficult with petulant employers to ascertain the precise wishes of their superiors; and not unfrequently have we witnessed some truculent master abusing his menials for an act, the very nadir of which had previously met with his disapprobation; leaving the abusees in a state of doubt as to what really were the desires of "the master." In the same way was the horse in our narrative. He turned his head in the direction indicated by Mr. Billing's tug; and finding it still continued, he followed with his whole body; and, possibly under the impression that he was required to return home in the same leisure trot, he commenced a retrogression. That was not, however, what his rider required, at least while his journey was unaccomplished; for though, for his personal comfort, he devoutly desired it, such a course of action could not be thought of. Mr. Billing was a man of honour, and volunteered to perform the duty; had even pledged his word; while his respected master had told him that he relied upon his good judgment; therefore, was such a confidence to be misplaced, and his integrity to be called into question? "Never!" Mr. Billing mentally ejaculated; even if his life were to be sacrificed in an expenditure of sighs. An imputation of such a dereliction had never been cast upon the name of Billing, and should he be the first to disgrace the family? He mentally replied with an emphatic and forcible negative, and tugged away with increased energy at the bridle he continued to hold in his hand.

It is needless to say the horse became bewildered at the manoevering of his rider. He had never experienced such treatment before, and could not comprehend its meaning. He stopped; the tugging continued. He turned again, and the tugging ceased. He thus discovered the desire of his director; and being at the time somewhat accommodatingly disposed, he proceeded at a snail-paced ambulation. Our readers will have by this time discovered that Mr. Billing's Rosinante was an animal of rather a peculiar temperament; and will therefore be prepared to hear that, having gained some experience of the style of individual on his back, he gave evidences of a disposition which caused no little uneasiness to the sensitive mind of the Strawberry Hill Mercury. This highly to be deprecated perversity, displayed itself in various "little games" of his own, which were performed with a degree of nonchalance highly edifying to an admirer of coolness, though extremely alarming to our friend. Some of the most salient we may mention, were, grazing in the bush at the side of the track; rubbing himself against the trees; taking erratic turns in search of water-holes; and finally stopping altogether.

This trial was worse than all, and brought Mr. Billing's patience to a culminating point. That the poor animal should desire a drink he thought in no way extravagant; but to coolly stand still, and decline any further progression, was the height of assumption; which even he could not tolerate. He therefore grew importunate in his demands for locomotion; and vibrated his legs like pendulums, while he shouted in a voice that betrayed anger. He again seized the bridle, and tugged away with equal violence as before, only varying the operation by pulling alternately, one side, and the other. Under this, or some unaccountable influence, the horse regained his amiability, and returned to the road; and, moreover, took the right direction for Alma; which, though at a pace by no means so fast as Mr. Billing could desire, yet in one which he thought preferable to that, the inconveniences of which he had had such tangible proof. However, he now jogged on at his leisure, and would doubtless have continued to have done so without any further adventure, had he not been disturbed from his equanimity by the unmistakeable sounds of an approaching bullock dray. The idea of meeting this threw him into a perfect state of perplexity, and he therefore thought of getting off the track to allow it to pass; but how to guide his perverse animal he knew not. The sounds came nearer, but his horse paid no attention to his admonitions; so, with visions of being gored to death by bullocks, he relinquished the contest with his animal, and gave himself up for lost.

The dray slowly dragged its course along, and approached within sight of our adventurous friend; when its companions, amused at the figure before them, halted their team to have a little conversation with one whose appearance was truly enough to excite their risibility. Mr. Billing's horse, in like manner, aware that it was expected of him to halt, also did so; and the individual, who officiated as driver to the team, addressed the equestrian in the following easy style of familiarity:

"I say, mate, don't you think you'd better get inside?"

The force of this coarse joke was duly appreciated by the utterer's travelling companions; though it was entirely lost upon our friend, who gazed in mute astonishment at his questioner. While he indulges in this visual inspection, we will crave permission to make a slight digression, for the purpose of describing the parties thus unceremoniously introduced to the reader's notice.

The driver of the dray, and the individual who had addressed Mr. Billing, was a man of ordinary stature; slight in make, and past the meridian of life. His features were sharp; his hair was tinged with gray; his eyes were of the same colour, and somewhat sunken in his head; on his chin and lip was hair of about a week's growth, having very much the appearance of a worn-out scrubbing brush, and of quite as course a texture. He was clad in the usual bushman's style, and carried the long whip of his order. At his side walked a young man, in appearance and manner a considerable improvement on the old one; and high upon the laden dray were perched two females. One was an old dame with features of the nut-cracker cast, and apparelled with an evident desire to combine in her person all the prismatic hues. Her more juvenile companion, while emulating the same laudable disposition, was certainly superior in looks to her, in the same proportion as the young man was to the old. The appearance of the whole party was such as proclaimed them at once, to the practised eye of Mr. Billing, to be of a class having no pretensions to gentility; though there was an air about them of careless freedom and easy comfort that, to him, ill accorded with their position. He had satisfied himself on this point, by his scrutiny, when he ventured to reply to the before mentioned remark of the old man by making the following observation:

"May I be permitted, my good sir, to enquire the nature of the expression you just made use of? I presume you must have spoken in metaphor."

"Not a bit, old cock," replied the man, "I guess I spoke in English. You didn't seem to enjoy travelling that ere way, so I just axed you if you'd get inside."

"And pray, sir, what did you mean by that?" asked Mr. Billing, whose choler began to rise at what he considered the rude insolence of his interrogator.

"Oh! nothing," replied the young man, who saw that their new acquaintance was likely to be a little irascible, "my father was only joking."

"And pray, young man," said Mr. Billing, "is not your father aware that it is a gross breach of decorum his attempting to pass his jokes off on a gentleman? eh, sir?"

"Certainly," replied the young fellow, "he is quite aware of it, but he has got such a way of joking with people that he does it all the same with friends and strangers; and I have no doubt he could not resist the temptation of having a slap at you, when he saw so elegant a rider and gentleman."

This attempt of the young witling, while it highly amused the various members of the travelling menage, pacified Mr. Billing; who failed to perceive any irony in it; and, addressing the elder of the party with his usual suavity, he said, "May I be so bold as to enquire sir, the point of your destination? As I am not aware of the expectation of any one at our place, I presume you are bound for our neighbours at Fern Vale?"

"No, we ain't, old fellow," replied the party addressed, "we are going to our own place, t'other side of Fern Vale. I 'spose you don't know us? My name's Sawyer, and this 'ere chap's my son: that there's my old woman on the dray; and our gal alongside on her. I've bought a run on the Gibson river, and am going to settle on it now. So, as you know all about us, take a 'ball,' and tell us who you are." With which he handed to Mr. Billing a bottle, containing some alcoholic fluid; and took out his pipe which he inserted between his teeth, and made to give forth a whistling sound, to satisfy himself upon the non-obstruction of the passage, preparatory to replenishing it with the weed.

Mr. Billing having smelt the contents of the bottle, which had rather a rummy odour, returned it to old Sawyer with the remark: "You really must excuse me, sir, for I invariably make it a rule to abstain from spirits in the middle of the day, and never at any time drink them raw."

"We can give you water old 'bacca' breeches, if you like it best that way," replied Sawyer, sen.

"Not any, I thank you," said Billing, "I would prefer, I assure you, sir, to be excused; at the same time I value your kind attention."

"Well, here's luck to you, old feller," said the other, as he took a pull at the bottle. "I don't believe in watering grog, it spoils good liquor. But I say, old cock, who are you?"

"I, sir," said Mr. Billing, not exactly relishing this unceremonious style of questioning, and with difficulty suppressing his indignant ire, at being so vulgarly addressed by a low-minded besotted man. "I, sir," he repeated, "am Mr. James Billing of Strawberry Hill, and late of the firm of Billing, Barlow, & Co., of the city of London." He said this with the air of a man who would strike his interrogator with a sense of that forwardness that could prompt so rude a query as that which had been made by the head of the Sawyer family; and as one resolved to maintain the honour of his position, and claim that respect which was due to him as the representative of that class which is the acknowledged source of England's greatness; viz., the mercantile community.

"I 'spect Strawberry Hill ain't yourn?" said Sawyer, unmindful of the reproof conveyed in the tone and language of Mr. Billing. "I believe it belongs to a chap of the name of Rainsfield, don't it?"

"Mr. Rainsfield is the proprietor of the station, sir," replied Billing, "and I am his confidential assistant."

"Oh, the 'Super?' I suppose," exclaimed the other.

"No, sir," replied our friend, "his accountant."

"Oh, I see," cried the old man, as the nature of his interlocutor's position flashed across his mind, "the storekeeper, that's all, eh? and where are you going now, mate?"

"I can't see, sir," replied Mr. Billing, "how that can interest you in the slightest degree. I am not called upon to submit to your catechising; you must be perfectly aware that your questions are bordering on the impertinent; and but that I am a man of peace, I would resent your inquisitiveness, sir, as an insult."

"My father meant no offence, sir," said the young man, while his parent gave vent to his amusement in a prolonged whistle, "it is only his way."

"And a most unwarrantable way too, sir," said the now irate commercial man.

"You need not get your rag out, old fellow," said the senior Sawyer, "if you can't take a bit of chaff you oughtn't to live in the bush."

"Of that, sir, I'm the best judge," replied the indignant Billing. "No man is justified in offering chaff, as you call it, to a gentleman; more especially when the parties are perfect strangers. I made no rude and inquisitive remarks to you; and am surprised that you should have ventured to utter them to me."

"Well, old fellow," said the other, "I ain't agoing to quarrel with you no how, so if you don't mean to tell us where you're going, why, you can just please yourself."

"That, sir, I intend to do," replied Mr. Billing; "so, if you have no further enquiries to make, we may just as well part company."

"All right, old chap," said Mr. Sawyer, "we'll go;" and while he put his team in motion, with his whip, he imparted a slight titillation to the flanks of Mr. Billing's horse, which caused that eccentric animal to go off in the step most torturing to his rider, amidst the united cachinnations of the Sawyer family.

Mr. Billing experienced a return of all his former horrors; but his efforts this time to reduce his horse to a tractable obedience were fruitless; the animal persisted in keeping to his own pace, notwithstanding the various tugs, bridle sawings, admonitions, and solicitations of our disconsolate equestrian. He was fain at last to give up the contention, and submit to his fate; and, be it mentioned to his commendation, he bore his torture to the end of his journey with a degree of fortitude perfectly astounding.

It was night when the horse stopped in front of the "Woolpack" inn, at Alma, and well was it for Mr. Billing's sensitiveness that it was so; for it saved him from the cruel jeers and laughter of the unsympathising ignoramuses who would have been sure to have made his misfortunes a subject for merriment. He was aroused from the abstraction of his calm resignation by the cessation of motion; and he perceived, with a lively joy, that his troubles were for the time at an end. How he got down from his saddle we are as ignorant as he was himself; though we can affirm that he scrambled off in such a manner as to bring himself to the ground in a prostrate position. Upon recovering from his surprise, after carefully brushing the dust from his apparel, he noticed that his horse, who was apparently well acquainted with the locale of the place, had entered the yard, and was standing at the stable door, waiting with an exemplary patience to be admitted. Leaving him there, to be attended to by the proper authority, our friend entered the house with a step somewhat resembling the progression which, is to be assumed, would be that of an animated pair of compasses. He was met in the passage of the hostel by an individual of the masculine gender, who, with a sardonic grin, asked him "if that 'ere 'oss what was in the yard belonged to him;" and being answered in the affirmative, and that the repliant desired to be shown to the coffee-room, and required supper and a bed, he remarked, "I suppose you come from Mr. Rainsfield's? I know'd his old 'oss the moment I seed him, and he knows us as well as he does his master."

"Indeed!" replied Mr. Billing, "it's very probable, my good fellow; but I have no desire to enter into a discussion with you respecting the merits or acquaintances of the animal. I would be exceedingly obliged to you if you would show me to my bed-room, and let me have some supper as soon as possible."

"I don't think you've been much used to a riding of 'orses, sir," said the cool stable functionary, as he eyed our travel-worn friend from apex to base. But Mr. Billing was too indignant to answer him. He really thought that all the vagabonds in the country had conspired to insult him, and he determined to submit to their contumelies no longer; so, turning round upon his questioner, with a look of indignant scorn, he said:

"I'll suffer no impertinence from you, sir, and I have to request you'll refrain from indulging in any further offensive remarks and queries, sir. If you are the landlord of this hostlery, sir, you are evidently unacquainted with your business; and if you are a servant in the establishment be good enough to inform your master that I desire to speak to him."

"All right, sir," replied the man, "if you want to see the gov'ner I'll tell him." Saying which, the facetious servant took his departure with an evident risible excitement.

In a few minutes the landlord himself made his appearance; and received Mr. Billing's order, and complaint against the domestic, with as much indifference as if they were matters not worth noticing; and without deigning any acknowledgment or reply beyond that which he put to his visitor in the following words.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

"Not at present, I thank you," replied the urbane son of commerce; "I desire first to have something to eat."

"Oh! then you'll have to wait," replied the landlord, "for we don't cook meals at this time of night."

"Well, my good friend," replied Mr. Billing, "I don't wish to inconvenience you, and your household; but I am perfectly voracious, and desire something solid. I am not fastidious and would be content with something cold, if your larder contains such."

"No, we ain't got nothing cold," replied the master of the "Woolpack;" "we never keep it:" and with a grunt this specimen of politeness left the room.

The unfortunate Mr. Billing was now subject to another species of annoyance; and we verily believe, had he not been the personification of patience, he would have been perfectly driven to distraction. Though shouts of revelry, and indications of drinking, emanated from the bar, he was not surprised or disturbed, for he expected it; but he heard sounds in the passage as of suppressed laughter, accompanied by stifled expressions in a strong Hibernian dialect. Whether the utterance was by male or female, it was difficult to conjecture; but Mr. Billing's doubts (if he had had any on the subject) were soon put to rest, for he plainly discerned the frontispiece of a biped; which, by the manner of arranging its natural scarlet covering, plainly proclaimed itself as belonging to the order of feminine. The features displayed a broad grin; and an inquisitive glance met that of our friend, as he stood facing the door. The head was hastily withdrawn when its owner perceived it had been noticed; but a laugh succeeded its withdrawal, and another cranium was protruded into the aperture, and retired in its turn with a laugh, to make way for another.

Mr. Billing submitted to this scrutiny with the assumed fortitude of a stoic; and attempted to allay his rising ire, and deceive his perturbed spirit, by whistling one of the favourite airs from Norma. Now, Mr. Billing prided himself upon the accomplishment of whistling; for he did consider it an accomplishment, notwithstanding that some people call it vulgar. He had given it his study; and when in the height of conviviality, when he was at any time induced to favour his friends with a specimen of his art, he would throw his whole soul into the performance, and remain an unconscious spectator of passing events until the last note of his Æolian melody died away amid the vociferous plaudits of his friends. He therefore, on this occasion, resolved to indulge in a little music to save himself from a knowledge of the annoyance of the menials' gaze, and to show them his utter contempt both for them and their unparalleled rudeness. With his eyes, then, firmly fixed upon a cleanly-dispositioned fly on the canvas ceiling of the room, as it was going through various crural manipulations on its cranium, he warbled forth a stanza in his most enchanting strain; so exquisitely sweet as to have softened the hearts of heathens had they been present. At least so says Congreve, in his oft-used sentiment, such is the opiate influence of phrygian chords on unsophisticated natures; but in the auditory of Mr. Billing it was otherwise. They possessed no taste for music, and only greeted his performance with screams of laughter.

Human nature could not quietly submit to this fresh indignity, and Mr. Billing advanced with undisguised chagrin, and banged the door upon the sounds of retreating merriment. He was annoyed, disgusted, and ill at ease; and mentally made a resolution to get out of the place as speedily as possible, and never to darken the door again. It was fully an hour before his expected repast was put upon the table; and with a disturbed spirit, and body racked with pains of unutterable puissance, he partook of his meal and early sought the consolation of his pillow.

On the following morning he habited and arranged himself with punctilious neatness; and waited upon Mr. Gilbert, the principal or rather the only storekeeper in the town, for the purpose of obtaining the articles required by Mr. Rainsfield. Upon his procuring these he arranged them in the valise prepared for them, and settled his reckoning at the inn previous to taking his departure. At his desire the horse was brought to the door; and, being provided with a chair, he effected a mounting with less difficulty than on the previous day. But his trials were not yet at an end; for not only the whole inmates of the Woolpack inn, but almost the entire population of the township (some hundred people), assembled en masse to witness the start of the potent personage. The horse was set in motion by an admonitory application of a stick by one of the bystanders, which started him off in the step which was the dread of our friend; while he was hailed on all sides with a deafening cheer and shouts of laughter, which rung in his ears for some distance on his journey.