"Well, he was laughing most of the time; it's my belief he'd had 'em all gingered up beforehand." "I'm quite sure, Clarence, he would be incapable of such conduct as that. Why _should_ he?" "_I_ don't know," he said. "But I won't have _him_ about again. I'll get some one else to teach me." "But, my dear boy, nobody can teach you much if you can't even manage to get on a horse's back. You'll only get hurt if you try any more, and you will be far wiser to give it up altogether." "Not much, Mater!" he declared; "I'm not so easily bested as all that. Now I've begun I mean to go on with it." And he went on; for, to do Clarence justice, want of pluck was not among his defects. But he was obliged to admit that the Marshal was not fairly accountable for the horses' behaviour, since they were quite as unmanageable when he was no longer there. They were spirited creatures, but perfectly docile until they caught sight of Clarence, when they immediately became as vicious as the most untameable bronco. If he contrived occasionally to get hoisted into the saddle, he never remained there long enough to put the Royal Chief Huntsman's instructions into practice, and he began at last to have serious doubts whether Nature had ever intended him to shine as a horseman. He said nothing of these ignominious experiences to Daphne, partly because he never found an opportunity, though more from a fear of being laughed at. But he could not keep them from his family, and so Daphne came to hear of his repeated failures through Princess Ruby. She did not laugh at them, however; she was even a little touched. She thought more of him for his attempts to follow her unlucky suggestion than if he had never attempted anything at all, and fully believed that if he persevered he would conquer in the end. His Royal Mother was so perturbed and alarmed that at last she made a confidant of the Court Godmother, who was about to depart on her annual visit to the Court of Clairdelune. "He _will_ go on with it!" Queen Selina lamented, "and I _know_ he'll break his neck before long! It does seem so strange that those horrible horses should behave like this with Clarence and nobody else. When his poor dear Grandfather was such a good rider, too! I can't think why they should, Court Godmother, can you?" The Fairy Vogelflug thought privately that the reason was not very far to see. The horses of the Royal stud were, she knew, of an exceptional aristocratic breed. Now poor Clarence, though of Royal blood on his mother's side, unfortunately had little of the air and appearance which these intelligent and observant animals probably connected with a true Prince. It was more than likely that they had failed to recognise that he was a Prince at all, and so resented being called upon to carry him.