It was a soft morning, and I walked round to the mews where my animals were stabled. They’d need to be grained and groomed, and I’d have to take George out for a gallop today as I’d promised him. My stomach rumbled, and I mused glumly on the fate of those who told less than the truth.
The doors to the stables had been flung wide, and Willie, the very young stable boy stood before them, hopping from one foot to the other, wringing his hands and weeping. He cried even harder when he saw me.
“Oh, sir! Oh, sir! I’m that sorry! Your lovely horses. I opened the door to clean out their stall, and they bolted!”
My heart felt as if it had lodged in my boots. George and Hubini had refused to be separated, so they’d been placed in a very large box stall. “How long?” I asked.
“Not more than a quar
