England was not alone in the matter of mishaps. One of the 2nd Chausseurs à Cheval, of the Belgian Army, although a splendid steeplechase rider, also fell at the bank. He went round the course at a smart gallop, and cleared everything without registering a touch. His beautiful bay gelding went at the bank at full speed, but appeared to make no attempt to rise at it--the animal's chest struck the vertical side of the embankment, his rider shot into the air, and he too fell on his back. The lieutenant landed on top of the bank, and the horse remained below. A mettlesome bay mare from Belgium, ridden by an officer who wore the gorgeous uniform of the 2nd Belgian Lancers, refused the first obstacle, and ran round it; refused the second, and dashed among the judges, scattering them right and left. After five minutes' display of temper all over the arena, she was ordered out, and eventually, with some persuasion, went, having jumped nothing but the judges' table. Many of the horses had never jumped inside a building before, and used to the open showyard, were made nervous, almost frantic, by the colours, the music, the people, and the general strangeness of the surroundings, intensified by the glare of the electric light, and the unfortunate illumination of the trees. So greatly were the nerves of some of the best-known leapers affected, that often the judges and messenger boys were sent scurrying when a nervous horse refused his jump, and careered at full speed round the ring. So for an hour, in quick succession, followed each other the best horses and horsemen of Europe--some conspicuous for a close, immovable, jockey-like seat, the English hunters for dash, and the Belgians for coolness and neatness. The difference in the way the men of foreign nationalities sat their horses, keenly interested Chris, for they did so, if not as gracefully, at least more effectively than the average English rider in a jumping competition. Some of them began, continued, and finished the course crisply, and at high speed, with an unmoved seat, even when heavy men. He noted that the foreigner rides with long stirrups, and more by balance than the Englishman, though there was one exception, his stirrups were as short as a jockey's, his knees crooked high, and pressed very tight--so steady and sympathetic a seat Chris had seldom seen. No one could help admiring the Belgian officer's riding, how he never touches his horse's mouth, but sits as if he were part of the horse, even if it jumped a little slowly, or "stickily," as we should say. More than once, delightful instances of the kindness of these officers to their horses were given. When a fence was refused, no rough words were used, or resentment shown--a pat of the neck, an encouraging whisper, and the horse tried again, succeeded, and seemed even happier in his success than his gentle master.