"Yes, yes, the road’s very nice; but it seems to me that my breakfast rises a little higher with each step that this infernal beast takes; she has a terribly hard trot, this mare of yours!"
"Bah! you are joking; let her canter then."
"One moment; my stirrup leathers are still too long."
"You don’t mean that; your knees are on the level of your horse’s ears!"
"Never mind; I learned to ride in accordance with certain principles."
"Very pretty, your principles are!"
"There—now I am ready."
"Off we go then!"
The two friends set off at a gallop. Robineau had no desire to ride at that pace; but the mare he bestrode was determined to follow the other horses, and her rider was fain to gallop whether he would or not. As he had never ridden at such a pace, he did not know what to do; he threw himself forward and backward, pulled the reins tight, then suddenly dropped them. He was convinced that his steed had taken the bit in her teeth, and he shouted with all the strength of his lungs:
"Stop her! stop her, I say!"