‘Hold on by your teeth; your mouth’s big enough. Now, the squad, halt!’ The horses stopped so suddenly that two more luckless wights pitched over their horses’ heads and lay wallowing on the tan. More cutting remarks from the sergeant, then the squad again ‘stood to their horses,’ and were once more instructed in the method of mounting. This time poor Wilson made such a leap that he shot right over his horse’s back and fell off on the other side, roaring lustily. ‘You’re not in the gymnasium on the vaulting-horse,’ roared the sergeant. ‘Look up, man, or you’ll put in the whole of your twelve in the riding-school.’ Presently the men again got mounted and the ride went on. Jack, being light and agile, and his horse docile, managed very well, and soon began to feel confidence, remembering the old soldier’s words, not to ‘jar her mouth.’ In about an hour’s time the riding-master and a rather short but very broad officer, whom Jack afterwards learnt was Captain Norreys, entered the school, and the recruits were handled a little more gently. Presently Captain Norreys and the riding-master, who had noticed how well Jack was getting on, came up to him, and the captain said kindly, ‘What is your name, my lad?’ ‘John Blair, sir.’ ‘Have you ridden before?’ ‘On a pony once or twice, sir.’ ‘You’re doing very well, Blair; very well. We shall soon make a cavalryman of you. Go on as you have begun.’ And Jack’s heart warmed within him at the kindly words. Presently the ride was dismissed and the horses taken back to the stables. Despite his stiffness and soreness, Jack thoroughly enjoyed his ride, and was quite eager to begin again, the kindly notice taken of him by the riding-master and Captain Norreys filling him with pleasure. On the Thursday, Napper resumed his duties. He took up his old position without a word, retaining his loud and domineering manner, and smoking and frequenting the canteen as much as before; but Tommy Callon was no longer a sort of valet to him, nor did any one do his pipeclaying and burnishing. Also, he studiously let Jack alone; so peace reigned. This was the more so as the band was then playing a good deal at London, Richmond, Kew, and other places; so that Napper was much away. Jack got on splendidly with his trumpet and bugle work, and Linham declared that Blair was a credit to him, ending up with a tremendous ‘Ha, hum!’ that clinched the matter. He soon got very attached to his horse Dainty, which was indeed a beautiful and docile creature, whinnying when Jack went into the stable, rubbing her velvet muzzle against his face when he spoke to her, and reaching out towards his hand in expectation of the usual lump of sugar he brought her.