As we got ready for the afternoon ride, the horse-dealer and his four horses appeared, and with a sigh he informed Pierson that he accepted the terms, or nearly so. On getting out of the town the horses were put through their paces. They were a big grey, with enormous mane and tail, of not much breed, but in dealer’s condition, and a well-shaped and strong-looking beast; an iron-grey, who plunged and shied and was generally vicious, but really the most valuable of the four; a fourteen-hand pure-bred Arab, with a huge scar of a spear-wound a foot long on his shoulder, otherwise perfect, of angelic temper, but small by the side of the Persian horses, as all Arabs are; his muzzle almost touched his chest as he arched his neck, and his action was very high, yet easy; he seemed an aristocrat compared to the rest; his thin and fine mane and tail were like silk—he, too, was five. A big, coarse, raking chestnut, that took all the boy who rode him could do to hold him, rising four, completed the list. Pierson kindly rode them all, and with considerable fear I did the same, save the lively grey, which I wisely acknowledged to be too much for me. The big chestnut bolted with me, but I stuck on. The other chestnut was all I could wish, fast, paces good, no tricks, willing—but, then, the scar. I did not wish to buy him on that account, but Pierson over-ruled me, and I took his advice; he told me that in Persia a scar was nothing, that I could ride the horse in comfort and safety, as he had no vices, and that whenever I wished to sell I should lose very little. The raking chestnut, as a young horse, Pierson told me was a speculation; he might turn out well, he might not. And the grey—well, all I could get out of Pierson was, that “he had a fine mane and tail,” which he certainly had, and that “he was value, or nearly.” He was not a well-bred animal, and I liked him, I fear, on account of the mane and tail; but he pulled. All were entire horses. Pierson wouldn’t let me buy the iron-grey, had I wanted to, as he said he was dangerous, even to a good rider. So the matter ended in my taking the chestnut for five hundred and fifty kerans and the grey for six hundred and fifty. Pierson said the prices ought to have been reversed. He was right. I had that chestnut Arab ten years; he never was sick or sorry, and I never had to strike or spur him; a pressure of the knee and a shake of the rein would make him do his utmost. And he was a fast horse; small as he was he carried my twelve stone comfortably, and as a ladies’ horse he was perfect, having a beautiful mouth, while he followed like a dog, and nothing startled him or made him shy. In the stable he was quiet, save to a new-comer, on whom he always left his mark by a bite on the neck, and then, having asserted his position, which was afterwards never disputed, he was always friendly to stable companions. He never kicked. I gave him away at last, when I left Persia on leave.