A COPERS CONFESSION. 93 



had crossed a lane, the only exit from which was as nasty 

 a stile as ever I came across in my life : a single stone 

 slab, about four feet hig-h, looking* ominously like a grave- 

 stone, stuck upon rising ground, with two cruelly placed 

 stepping-stones before you reached it, and a cart-load or 

 so more lying loose around them— a very nice, pleasing- 

 impediment, no doubt, to hand a young lady over, but a 

 mightily different affair when you attempted the same 

 piece of politeness with a young horse. Well, King 

 Herod was a hard-pulling, hot-headed beggar, that rushed 

 at everything he attempted j so the eye-glass, with very 

 excellent discretion, was brought into service for some- 

 thing* more inviting. The captain, too, was not in any 

 vast hurry, when at that moment — I do believe they had 

 forgotten me — I touched the crack on one of his jack-boots 

 with the handle of my whip, tipped him a civil and cool 

 ^' By your leave. Sir," and trotted Blue Peter up to it. 

 He picked his way like a cat, measured his ground to an 

 inch, and hopped over with a finished grace that even now 

 makes my heart beat to think of it. Yet, alas for the 

 force of example ! before I could turn my head the bay 

 stallion had chested it in one of his wild charges, and 

 rolled over with a smash that sent the rest of the field 

 down the lane as hard as they could pelt. 



Revenge is a very vile passion, I allow, the indulgence 

 in which is only admitted by bravos and barbarians, yet 

 I think just then I had the happy man's shirt in my 

 possession. 



» * * * ;^ 



It is extraordinary, but no man yet, I believe, was ever 

 found with sufficient candour to acknowledge the advan- 

 tages of a check ; at any rate it was not exactly with a 

 blessing* that I saw the hounds hang fire round some farm 



