I found that my passion was actually mastering my reason. Better to finish this, later on,--when I shall be cooler, thought I; and I walked to my window and opened it. There were voices of people speaking in the paddock below, and I leaned over the balcony and saw the two men I had seen at breakfast, seated on rustic chairs, watching a young horse being broken to the saddle. The well-worn ring in the grass showed that this spot was reserved for such purposes, nor was I displeased to know that such a source of interest lay so near to me. “Isn't he one of your Mexicans, George?” asked Captain Hotham. “No, sir, he's a Hungarian-bred 'un. Master calls him a Jucker, whatever that is.” “Plenty of action, anyhow.” “A little too much, sir; that's his fault. He's a-comin' now, and it's all they can do to keep him going over the park paling. Take this one back,” said he to the groom, who was ringing a heavy-shouldered, ungainly colt in the ring. “You 'll not gain much credit by that animal, George,” said Cleremont, as he lighted a cigar. “He ain't a beauty, sir; he 's low before, and he's cow-hocked behind; but Sir Roger says he's the best blood in Norfolk. Take care, take care, sir! the skittish devil never knows where he 'll send his hind-legs. Steady, Tom, don't check him: why, he's sweating as if he had been round the two-mile course.” The animal that called for this criticism was a dark chestnut, but so bathed in sweat as to appear almost black. He was one of those cross breeds between the Arab and the western blood, that gain all the beauty of head and crest and straightly formed croup, and yet have length of body and depth of rib denied to the pure Arab. To my thinking he was the most perfect creature I had ever seen, and as he bounded and plunged, there was a supple grace and pliancy about him indescribably beautiful. George now unloosened the long reins which were attached to the heavy surcingle, and after walking the animal two or three times round the circle, suffered him to go free. As if astonished at his liberty, the young creature stood still for a minute or two, and sniffed the air, and then gave one wild bound and headlong plunge, as though he were going straight into the earth; after which he looked timidly about him, and then walked slowly along in the track worn by the others. “He's far quieter than the last time I saw him,” said Hotham. “He's gettin' more sense every day, sir,” replied George; “he don't scratch his head with his hind-leg now, sir, and he don't throw hisself down neither.” “He has n't given up biting, I see,” said Cleremont. “No, sir; and they tell me them breed never does; but it's only play, sir.” “I'll give you six months before you can call him fit to ride, George.” “My name ain't Spunner, sir, if the young gent as come yesterday don't back him in six weeks' time.” “And is it for the boy Norcott intends him?” asked Cleremont of Hotham.