I have had many falls, but no other to vie with that in utter unexpectedness. When I recovered my senses I found myself leaning, giddy and sick, against the bole of an old thorn-tree. Fresnoy and Matthew supported me on either side, and asked me how I found myself; while the other three men, their forms black against the stormy evening sky, sat their horses a few paces in front of me. I was too much dazed at first to see more, and this only in a mechanical fashion; but gradually, my brain grew clearer, and I advanced from wondering who the strangers round me were to recognising them, and finally to remembering what had happened to me. ‘Is the horse hurt?’ I muttered as soon as I could speak. ‘Not a whit,’ Fresnoy answered, chuckling, or I was much mistaken. ‘I am afraid you came off the worse of the two, captain.’ He exchanged a look with the men on horseback as he spoke, and in a dull fashion I fancied I saw them smile. One even laughed, and another turned in his saddle as if to hide his face. I had a vague general sense that there was some joke on foot in which I had no part. But I was too much shaken at the moment to be curious, and gratefully accepted the offer of one, of the men to fetch me a little water. While he was away the rest stood round me, the same look of ill-concealed drollery on their faces. Fresnoy alone talked, speaking volubly of the accident, pouring out expressions of sympathy and cursing the road, the horse, and the wintry light until the water came; when, much refreshed by the draught, I managed to climb to the Cid’s saddle and plod slowly onwards with them. ‘A bad beginning,’ Fresnoy said presently, stealing a sly glance at me as we jogged along side by side, Chize half a league before us, and darkness not far off. By this time, however, I was myself again, save for a little humming is the head, and, shrugging my shoulders, I told him so. ‘All’s well that ends well,’ I added. ‘Not that it was a pleasant fall, or that I wish to have such another.’ ‘No, I should think not,’ he answered. His face was turned from me, but I fancied I heard him snigger. Something, which may have been a vague suspicion, led me a moment later to put my hand into my pouch. Then I understood. I understood too well. The sharp surprise of the discovery was such that involuntarily I drove my spurs into the Cid, and the horse sprang forward. ‘What is the matter?’ Fresnoy asked. ‘The matter?’ I echoed, my hand still at my belt, feeling--feeling hopelessly. ‘Yes, what is it?’ he asked, a brazen smile on his rascally face. I looked at him, my brow as red as fire. ‘Oh! nothing--nothing,’ I said. ‘Let us trot on.’