On the eve of departure, certain difficulties in
connection with the management of some landed property of mine in Ireland
obliged us to alter our plans. Instead of getting back to our house in
France in the Summer, we only returned a week or two before Christmas.
Francis Raven accompanied us, and was duly established, in the nominal
capacity of stable keeper, among the servants at Maison Rouge.
Before long, some of the objections to taking him into our employment,
which I had foreseen and had vainly mentioned to my wife, forced
themselves on our attention in no very agreeable form. Francis Raven
failed (as I had feared he would) to get on smoothly with his
fellow-servants They were all French; and not one of them understood
English. Francis, on his side, was equally ignorant of French. His
reserved manners, his melancholy temperament, his solitary ways--all told
against him. Our servants called him "the English Bear." He grew widely
known in the neighborhood under his nickname. Quarrels took place, ending
once or twice in blows. It became plain, even to Mrs. Fairbank herself,
that some wise change must be made. While we were still considering what
the change was to be, the unfortunate hostler was thrown on our hands for
some time to come by an accident in the stables. Still pursued by his
proverbial ill-luck, the poor wretch's leg was broken by a kick from a
horse.
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