" I did as he
directed, and he took the white woollen shawl, and in half a dozen turns
wound it round his head in a turban, deftly and gracefully. It was
wonderfully becoming to his Oriental features and dark eyes, and I could
see that Miss Westonhaugh thought so. There was a murmur of approbation
from the native grooms who were looking on, and who understood the
thing.
"You see I have done it before," he said, smiling. "And now give me my
coat, and we will be getting home. Oh yes! I can ride quite well."
"That man has no end of pluck in him," said John Westonhaugh to Kildare.
"By Jove! yes," was the answer. "I have seen men at home make twice the
fuss over a tumble in a ploughed field, when they were not even stunned.
I would not have thought it."
"He is not the man to make much fuss about anything of that kind."
Isaacs stoutly refused any further assistance, and after walking up and
down a few minutes, he said he had got his legs back, and demanded a
cigarette. He lit it carefully, and mounted as if nothing had happened,
and we moved homeward, followed by the spectators, many of whom, of
course, were acquaintances, and who had ridden up more or less quickly
to make polite inquiries about the accident. No one disputed with Isaacs
the right to ride beside Miss Westonhaugh on the homeward road.
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