Notwithstanding the comforting assurances of Kickshaw, I felt considerably nervous. If I could not maintain my seat with the assistance of the stirrups, what the mischief was I to do without them? I looked rebelliously at Anthony's stirrup, but that intrepid individual seemed to have nerved himself to meet any possible danger. His enormous legs seemed calculated by nature to embrace the body of his charger, and he sat erect like an overgrown Bacchus bestriding a kilderkin of beer. "Trot, gentlemen!" and away we went. I shall never forget the agony of that hour! The animal I rode was peculiarly decided in his paces; so much so that at each step my _os coccygis_ came down with a violent thump upon the saddle, and my teeth rattled in my head like dice in a backgammon-box. How I managed to maintain my posture I cannot clearly understand. Possibly the instinct of self-preservation proved the best auxiliary to the precepts of Sergeant Kickshaw; for I held as tight a hold of the saddle as though I had been crossing the bridge of Al Sirat, with the flames of the infernal regions rolling and undulating beneath. "Very good, gentlemen--capital!--you're improving vastly!" cried the complimentary sergeant. "Nothing like the bare saddle after all--damme but I'll make you take a four-barred gate in a week! Now sit steady. Gallop!" Croton oil was a joke to it! I thought my whole vitals were flying to pieces as we bounded round the oval building, the speed gradually increasing, until my diseased imagination suggested that we were going at the pace of Lucifer. My head began to grow dizzy, and I clutched convulsively at the pommel. "An-tho-ny!" I gasped in monosyllables. "Well?" "How--do--you--feel?" "Monstrous--shakey," replied Anthony in dis-syllables. "I'm off!" cried I; and, losing my balance at the turn, I dropped like a sack of turnips. However, I was none the worse for it. Had it not been for Anthony, and the dread of his report, I certainly think I should have bolted, and renounced the yeomanry for ever. But a courageous example does wonders. I persevered, and in a few days really made wonderful progress. I felt, however, considerably sore and stiff--straddled as I walked along the street, and was compelled to have recourse to diachylon. What with riding and the foot-drill I had hard work of it, and earnestly longed for the time when the regiment should go into quarters. I almost forgot to mention that Masaniello turned out to be an immense black brute, rather aged, but apparently sound, and, so far as I could judge, quiet. There was, however, an occasional gleam about his eye which I did not exactly like. "He'll carry you, sir, famously--no doubt of it," said Kickshaw, who inspected him; "and, mind my words, he'll go it at the charge!" CHAPTER III.