"She doesn't try any tricks," said Landri. "Let's try her at a gallop.—She won't, eh?—A touch of the whip."
Despite Baudoin's efforts Panther did not even condescend to quicken her trot. The quartermaster, who had the whip in his hand, begun to run, shaking it at the mare. Instead of breaking into a gallop she, taking fright, executed a series of violent sheep-like bounds, in rapid succession, which unhorsed her rider. He tried to remount. The mare, sure of her means of defence, started off again at a trot, then repeated her leaps at a second threat of the lash. Again the man fell. He remounted. A third fall. This time he was thrown against the wall rather hard. Anger turned his face green. A brutal exclamation escaped him, and he said savagely:—
"I don't mount again. I won't ride her any more. I've had enough of breaking my bones so that the officers can have well-trained horses."
He cast an evil glance at the lieutenant, with his hands in his pockets, his clothes all covered with sawdust; and he did not brush himself, or pick up his képi, or follow the mare, who had gone on at a walk, then stopped. She was nibbling, with the ends of her teeth, a tall post, with holes bored in it, intended to hold the jumping-bar.
"Well," said Landri pleasantly, as if he had not heard that outburst of insubordination, "I'll ride her now. You can take her again afterward."
Time to adjust the stirrups to his height, and he was astride the beast, whom he launched at a trot first, then at a gallop. She tried hard to unseat him by leaps and bounds even more out of rule than those which had succeeded so well just before. But Landri had been put in the saddle at the age of six by M. de Claviers, and he too was of the school of those who do not recognize divorce, as the marquis would say jocosely. He held his seat. Panther, the well-named, tried another device. She set off at a gallop, then turned abruptly, end for end. Landri still held his seat. More leaps. Another abrupt turn. The rider did not fall. Weary of the struggle, the mare trots; she gallops; she begins to obey the leg; she obeys the hand.
"Take her again, Baudoin," said the officer, jumping to the ground. "She hasn't broken my bones and she won't break yours."
The dragoon flushed. He looked at the lieutenant, who looked him squarely in the eye, calmly and coolly. Self-esteem aiding, this hint was efficacious with the rebel. He remounted and the session ended without further incident. The conquered beast behaved as well with her new rider as with the other.
"Now," said Landri to the quartermaster, "bring in the others."
"You were in luck," said the quartermaster to Baudoin a few moments later. "With another man, you'd have had a curry-combing, and a good one."