9 The accident and new masters 
　  
　　Aman called Reuben Smith looked after us while York was in London．He was gentle and clever with horses，and an excellent driver．But he had one fault——he sometimes drank too much．For weeks or months he was all right，but then without warning he would begin to drink heavily and be－have badly．But he was a useful man so York had kept quiet about Smith's drinking，saying nothing to Lord Gray．Then one night Smith drove some ladies and gentlemen home from a party and was so drunk that he could not hold the reins．York could not hide this and Lord Gray told Smith to leave． 
　　However，some time later，York spoke again to Lord Gray，who was very kind－hearted，and he took，Reuben Smith back．Smith promised never to get drunk again and kept his promise，and because of this he was told to look after the stables while York was away． 
　　One day the carriage needed some repairs so it was arranged that Smith would take it to town，leave it at the carriage-maker's，and then ride me back again．Mr Blantyre wanted to go to the station，so he went with us． 
　　At the station，Mr Blantyre gave Smith some money and said，'Take care of Lady Anne，Reuben，and don't let anyone else except her ride Black Beauty．' 
　　We left the carriage at the maker's，and Smith rode me to the White Lion hotel．He told the stableman to give me some food and have me ready for four o'clock．One of my front shoes was loose but the stableman did not see it until four o'clock．Smith came back at five and said he would now leave at six be－cause he'd met some old friends．The stableman told him about the loose shoe． 
　　'It'll be all right until we get home，'said Smith． 
　　He finally came back at nine o'clock，shouting loudly and in a very bad temper．We left and almost immediately he began to gallop，often giving me sharp cuts with the whip，although I was going at full speed．Before we were out of the town my shoe came off，but Smith was too drunk to notice． 
　　It was very dark，and on the rough road at that speed，my foot was soon cut and bleeding from the sharp stones．I could not go on；the pain was too great，and I fell violently on both my knees．Smith was thrown off．He tried to get up but couldn't，then he lay still． 
　　I could do nothing but wait． 
　　It was nearly midnight when I heard a horse's feet and the wheels of a carriage．I neighed loudly，and was very happy to hear an answering neigh from Ginger，and men's voices．Then the carriage came out of the darkness and stopped． 
　　Two men jumped down beside Smith．'It's Reuben，'said one，'and he's not moving，Robert．' 
　　'He's dead，'said Robert，touching Smith．'His hands are cold and his head is covered with blood．' 
　　They looked at me and saw my cut knees． 
　　'The horse has been down and thrown him！'said Robert．He tried to lead me forward but I almost fell again．'He's bad in the foot，too．No wonder he went down，riding over these stones without a shoe！Reuben was drunk，Ned．He would nev－er ride a horse without a shoe unless he was drunk．' 
　　Ned took Smith's body back in the carriage，and Robert tied his handkerchief round my foot and led me slowly home．No one blamed me for the accident．The owner of the White Lion hotel said that Reuben Smith was drunk when he left． 
　　But I had to leave Earlshall，and so did Ginger． 
　　For a month or two I was allowed to live out in a field，and one day Ginger was brought in to join me．She had been ruined by the hard riding of Lord Gray's son，and aher twelve months'rest she was going to be sold．And although my knees got better，they looked very ugly and so I was no longer suit-able for a fashionable family．It was very pleasant being in the field with Ginger，but one day Robert came in and took me away．We were both very sad to say goodbye to each other， Ginger and I． 
　　I was sold to a man in Bath who kept many horses and dif-ferent kinds of carriages for hire．I was a'job horse'and all kinds of people hired me．Some were good drivers，others were very bad．Then one man persuaded my master to sell me to a friend of his who wanted a safe，pleasant horse for riding． 
　　And so that summer I was sold to Mr Barry． 
　　Mr Barry knew very little about horses but he hired a com-fortable stable for me，and a man called Filcher to look after me．He ordered the best oats，and plenty of other good food for me to eat，too． 
　　For a while all went well，but then there seemed to be fewer oats and more grass in my meals．The grass food，though very good，was not enough to keep me strong and healthy．However，I could not say anything and it went on for about two months． 
　　Then one afternoon my master rode into the country to see a friend——a gentleman farmer who knew about horses，and who looked very closely at me． 
　　'Your horse doesn't look as well as he did when you first had him，Barry，'he said，feeling my neck and shoulders．'See how wet and warm he is——after just a gentle ride！' 
　　'My groom says that horses are never in good condition in the autumn，'said my master． 
　　'But this is only August！'said the farmer．'With your light work and the good food，he shouldn't be like this．I don't know who eats your oats，my friend，'he went on，'but I doubt that your horse gets any of them．I advise you to watch your groom more closely．' 
　　Oh，how I wanted to speak！I wanted to tell my master where his oats went to．My groom came every morning at six o'clock，bringing his little by with him．The boy carried a basket and went into the room where the oats were kept．I would see them filling a bag with oats and putting the bag into the basket． 
　　Five or six mornings after the visit to the farmer，the boy left the stable with his basket of oats，but came back soon after，looking frightened，with two policemen holding his arms． 
　　'Show me where your father keeps the food for his chickens，'one policemen said to the boy． 
　　The boy began to cry but there was no escape．Moments later，the policemen found another empty bag like the one in the boy's basket，and they took Filcher away with them．That was the last I ever saw of him． 
　　Another groom was employed，but he was very lazy about cleaning and I became thin and unhealthy from standing in a wet，dirty stable．After all this trouble with grooms，Mr Barry decided to stop keeping a horse and I was sent to a horse fair —a place where hundreds of horses were bought and sold，and more lies were told，I think，than in any other place in the country． 
　　That day I was lucky．I was bought for twenty－five pounds by a man called Jeremiah Barker，but everyone called him Jerry and I shall do the same． 
　  
9 事故和新主人 
　  
　　一个叫鲁宾·史密斯的男人在约克去伦敦的时候照料我们。他对马态度温和，为人聪明，是个好车夫。可是他有一个缺点：有时酒喝得太多。几个星期或几个月他都很正常，然而突然间他就会开始酗酒，行为也变得粗鲁。但他基本上还是个能干的人，所以约克对他酗酒的事一直保持沉默，没对格雷勋爵说过什么。一天晚上，史密斯送一些女士和先生们从舞会回家，可他醉得不成样子，连缰绳都抓不住了。约克这回没法再帮他隐瞒，于是格雷勋爵把他辞了。 
　　可是，没过多久，约克又对格雷先生说情，好心的格雷先生答应让鲁宾·史密斯回来。史密斯答应再也不喝醉了。由于他遵守誓言，约克不在时，他就被叫去看守马厩。 
　　一天马车需要进行些修理，史密斯就被叫去赶车进城，把车放到造车厂，再骑我回来。布兰太尔先生想去车站，所以他和我们一起走。 
　　在车站，布兰太尔先生给了史密斯一些钱，说：“照顾好安小姐，鲁宾，别让别人骑黑骏马。” 
　　我们把车留在车厂，史密斯骑我到了白狮饭店。他让马夫给了我些吃的，吩咐他们4点钟备好我。我的一只前掌松了，可是马夫直到4点才发现。史密斯5点回来了，说他还上了些老朋友，要在6点才能走开q马夫告诉他我的掌松了。 
　　“坚持到家没问题。”史密斯说。 
　　他最后9点才回来，脾气很坏，还高声叫嚷着。刚一出饭店他就立刻骑着我飞奔起来，还不时狠狠地抽我一鞭子，也不管我已经在全速奔驰了。在我们出城之前，我的掌就脱落了，可是史密斯醉得厉害，根本没发现。 
　　天色很黑了，在那样高低不平的路上，那样快地奔跑，我的脚很快就被锋利的石头划伤了，而且流出血来。我没法儿继续走了；脚疼得太厉害了，我重重地跪了下来。史密斯被甩了出去。他试着爬起来，可是没成功，然后他就一动不动地躺在那里了。 
　　我只好等着。 
　　当我听到马蹄声和马车的轮键声时已近午夜了。我长嘶了一声，然后惊喜地听到了金儿的应答，还有男人的声音。马车从夜色中驶来并停了下来。 
　　两个男人跳下车站在史密斯身旁。“是鲁宾，”一个说，“他一动也不动，罗伯特。” 
　　“他死了，”罗伯特摸了摸史密斯说，“他的手冰凉，头上满是鲜血。” 
　　他们看了看我，发现了我受伤的膝盖。 
　　“这马摔倒了，把他甩了出去！”罗伯特说，他想牵着我向前走，可我差点儿又摔倒。“他的蹄子也不对劲。怪不得他摔倒呢，没有掌还在这片石头地上跑！鲁宾醉了，耐德。除非他醉了，不然他不会骑一匹没戴掌的马。” 
　　耐德把史密斯的尸体扛进车里，罗伯特用他的手帕把我的脚包了起来，牵着我慢慢地走回家，谁也没为这场事故责怪我。白狮饭店的主人证实鲁宾·史密斯在离开饭店时就已经醉了。 
　　但是我得离开沙尔伯爵庄园了，金儿也是。 
　　有一两个月人们让我生活在田野里，一天金儿也被牵来和我一道。她被格雷勋爵的儿子的一通狠骑给累伤了。经过12个月的休整以后，她将被卖掉。至于我，虽然我膝盖的伤好多了，可它们看上去丑陋不堪，所以我不再适合于留在一个时髦的家庭里。和金儿一块儿在田野真好，可是，一天罗伯特来把我带走了。我和金儿两个互道了再见，心里都很难过。 
　　我被卖给贝思的一个拥有很多马和各种马车并把它们出租的人。我现在成了一匹“工作马”，有各种各样的人来租我。有的是好骑手，其他的则糟透了。后来有一个人说服我的主人把我卖给他的一个朋友，这个人想要一匹安全的、舒服的马来骑。 
　　于是，那个夏天我被卖给了白利先生。 
　　白利先生不懂马，但他为我租了一个很舒适的马厩，还雇了一个叫费舍尔的马夫照料我。他还买最好的燕麦及其他好东西给我吃。 
　　开始时一切顺利，但是接下来，似乎饭里的燕麦少了，而草多了。就算很好的草料也不足以使我保持强壮和健康。但是我不会说话。这种状况持续了大约两个月。 
　　一天下午我的主人骑我下乡去看一个朋友——一个懂马的农场主，他仔细地看了看我。 
　　“你的马看上去可不如刚买的时候了，白利，”他摸摸我的脖子和肩膀说。“看它累得又湿又热——只不过稍微骑了这么一会儿！” 
　　“我的马夫说，马匹在秋天时状态都不好，”我的主人说。 
　　“可是这只是8月份呀！”农夫说，“你的活儿又轻，料又好，他不该是这副样子。我不知是谁在吃你的燕麦，朋友。”他继续道，“但我怀疑你的马到底吃到没有。我建议你对你的马夫多留意一点儿。” 
　　噢，我多想说话啊！我想告诉我的主人他的燕麦到哪里去了。每天早上6点我的马夫带着他的小儿子来马厩。那孩子带着一个篮子走进放燕麦的屋子。我可以看见他们装满一袋燕麦，再把袋子放进篮子里。 
　　访问过农场主五六天后的一天早上，那孩子带着他的燕麦篮子离开马厩，可很快又回来了，他神情惊恐，两个警察抓着他的胳膊。 
　　“告诉我你爸爸把他的鸡饲料藏到哪儿了，”一个警察对孩子说。 
　　男孩哭了起来，可是逃脱不得。片刻之后，警察又发现了一个和篮子里的袋子一样的空口袋。他们把费舍尔带走了，我再也没看见过他。 
　　又雇了另一个马夫，可是他非常懒于打扫马厩，我整天站在潮湿、肮脏的马厩中，变得又瘦又病。被马夫惹出这些麻烦之后，白利先生决定不再养马了。我被送到一个马市上，那儿有几百匹马被买卖。我认为那儿充满着比全国任何一个地方都要多的谎言。 
　　那天我还算幸运。我以25镑被一个叫杰利米亚·巴克尔的人买走了，大家叫他杰利，我也这么叫吧。 
　　　    


 