“I am happy to please you,” said Scott, measuring off the words one at a time. “She has begun to learn English, and she speaks very little yet,” added her father. “I am much glad,” shouted Maria, dancing with delight when she realized that her English had been understood. “I shall forget you never.” “Beautiful country!” added Scott, flourishing his right hand around him. “Ver beaut’ful,” cried Maria. “My horse,” and then she pointed at the pony, and made her hands fly up and down in imitation of the feet of the animal. “Ran away,” replied Scott, completing the sentence when she broke down. “My horse ran away!” she shouted, with childish vim, though she was not less than sixteen. “You stop my horse. I thank you ver much for what you have did.” “May I ride your horse?” asked Scott. “You? ride horse?” The young officer then indicated what he wanted in pantomime. Don Roderigue declared that the pony had always been very gentle, and had never behaved so badly before since he was a colt. He added that Scott might ride him if he wished to do so. The joker leaped upon his back as lightly as a cat; but the little beast began to rear and plunge and dive in the most extraordinary manner. Scott was a good horseman, and the pony could not throw him. “I am confident something ails this horse,” said he, dismounting. He then unbuckled the girth, and Don Roderigue ordered the groom to assist in the operation. The saddle was removed, and a large spot of blood was found on the skin of the horse. Scott looked at it, and found a wound, made by the sharp point of a nail which had been driven through the wooden part of the saddle-frame. “I don’t blame the horse for making a row,” said Scott, as he pointed out the wound. “Any horse would make a fuss with that nail sticking into him;” and as he spoke he took his knife, and dug out the offensive iron. Maria laughed and danced about all the time; and when the cause of the pony’s misconduct was discovered, and shown to her, she began to pet the animal in the most loving manner. She was glad to find that her steed had a good excuse for his bad behavior. The saddle was restored to his back, and Scott mounted him again. This time he acted as well as any pony could. “You ride?” asked Scott. “Yes: I ride.” Her father did not object, and the lieutenant lifted her into the saddle. She cantered off as briskly as though nothing had happened. Don Roderigue insisted that Scott should mount his horse, and ride back to the garden gate, where he had left the rest of the party. In a moment he overtook the lady. She chatted and laughed all the way, and Scott felt more as though he had fallen into a sugar-bowl than ever before in his life.