John went in, glanced up at the Captain's sword over the mantelpiece, and sat down as desired by the still-needed fire.
"John," said his uncle in his usual direct way, "have you ever been on the back of a horse?"
"Yes, sir, once—in Paris at a riding-school."
"Once! You said 'once'—well?"
"I fell off—mother was with me."
"And you got on again?"
"No, sir."
"Why not?"
John flushed and hesitated, watched by the dark-eyed Squire. "I was afraid!" He would not say that his mother forbade it.
"What is your name?"