158 MY FIRST AND LAST STEEPLE-CHASE 



the first was a plain animal, cross-built, rough in 

 the coat, and with remarkably drooping quarters ; 

 but, on closer inspection, a hunter all over, if not a 

 steeple-chaser, although an attempt had evidently 

 been made to disguise his real character. The 

 saddle was old and patched ; the bridle had a 

 rusty bit, with a piece of string hung rather osten- 

 tatiously from it ; the rider might once have been 

 a gentleman, but drink and dissipation had left 

 their mark on what was originally a handsome 

 face. His dress was slovenly and careless to a 

 degree, but he sat his horse splendidly, and his 

 hand was as light and fair as a woman's. He 

 returned my look with a defiant stare. 



" That fellow looks dangerous," said Dick ; " but 

 I suspect he is more than half drunk. Make a 

 waiting race until you see what he is made of. 

 Above all things keep cool, and don't lose your 

 temper." 



I had perfect confidence in the mare I rode. 

 She had been broken by myself, and many a long 

 day we had hunted together over the big pastures 

 of Eoscommon and Meath. There was a thorough 

 understanding between us. My only anxiety was 

 as to how she would face the crowd, who were 

 collected in thousands about every jump, barely 

 leaving room for the horses to pass, and yelling 



