"You'll have to take it," said the captain, "though I fear it will not be a great catch for mountain-work. Seems to me that it stumbles—that lie-back of the ears is vicious—ha! rears too—and by Jove! it has been fired. No matter. Where needs must, you know, there's no alternative. Buy it by all means."
I closed with the bargain, got a loan of a saddle, bought a pair of jack-boots, and ordered my purchase to be brought round to the door of the hotel within half-an-hour. I am no rough-rider, and I had not counted on the high mettle of this, which was literally a "fiery, untamed steed." It had been fed for the market, and had had no exercise for two days previous. I meant to try its paces to St. Jean de Luz, and show off before the damsels of Biarritz; but, lack-a-day! what a declension was in store for me. It had best be given in the words of a letter to my kindly compatriot, written while defeat was fresh in my mind. Thus the epistle runs:
"Dear Campbell,
"My first essay on my eight hundred francs' worth of horse-power was a sight to see.
"Imprimis, the stirrup-leathers were long enough for you.
"En suite, I gave the dear gelding his head because he took it, and he incontinently faced a post of the French army at the Porte d'Espagne. The sentry came to the charge and cried, On ne passe pas ici. The blood-horse went at him, the sentry funked, and then, as if satisfied with his demonstration, the blood-horse—the bit always in his mouth—made a demi-tour, and faced a post of douaniers. This also was sacred ground, it appears, but the douaniers let the blood-horse pass, not even making the feint to prod his inside for contraband. The scene now changes to the Place de la Comédie (there's something in a name), where by virtue of vigorous tugging at curb and snaffle I just succeeded in keeping my gallant gelding off the cobble-stones. He went a burster over the bridge by a short turn down a street and to the door of his stable, and there he positively stopped, and I swear I felt his sides shaking with laughter. I called the groom; said I thought it would rain; besides, I did not know the road. On the whole, I had reconsidered the matter, and would go to St. Jean de Luz by train. The groom was awfully polite, pretended to believe me, and provided a man to take forward my eight—oh, hang it! we shan't think of the price.
"Humiliation! you will say. Yes, sir, and I feel it; but that horse will feel it too. When I get him somewhere that none can see, and where sentries, douaniers, and stables of refuge don't abound, I shall ask him to try how long he can keep up a gallop; but, by the body of the Claimant, I shall have sixteen stone on his back.
"Yours with knees unwearied and soul unsubdued."
At St. Jean de Luz I learned at the principal hotel that the English milord was Captain Frederick Burnaby of "the Queen of England's Blue Guards." He was supposed to have some secret official mission to Don Carlos, to whose headquarters he had directed his steps, and I at once took measures to follow in his tracks.
THE END.