“No, I thank you. I remain here but a few moments. I doubt she’s thirsty though⁠—eh, Jenny?”

“Water, sir?”

“For her, yes. For myself I fancy a tankard of your home-brewed ale. Stand, Jenny!” He turned away and walked up the steps to the inn door.

“Be you a-going to leave her there, sir⁠—a-standing all by herself?” inquired the man, surprised.

“Why, yes! She’s docile enough.”

“Well! Seems to me a risky thing to leave a hoss⁠—and a skittish hoss at that⁠—a-standing loose in the road. Ye won’t be tying her to a post, master?”

Carstares leaned his arms on the balustrade and looked down at them.

“I will not. She’d be very hurt at such treatment, wouldn’t you, lass?”