I would not risk such a horse as mine to be sold, ill-treated, tossed from owner to owner, sent in his old age to a knacker's yard, or killed in a skirmish by a cannon-shot.

Take both him and the mare back, and go back yourself.

Believe me, I thank you from my heart for your noble offer of fidelity, but accept it I never shall." A dead pause came after his words; Rake stood mute; a curious look--half-dogged, half-wounded, but very resolute--had come on his face.

Cecil thought him pained, and spoke with an infinite gentleness: "My good fellow, do not regret it, or fancy I have no gratitude to you.
I feel your loyalty deeply, and I know all you would willingly suffer for me; but it must not be.

The mere offer of what you would do had been quite testimony enough of your truth and your worth.