example of Prince Charles, and throw it away?"

"Thank you for nothing! But, I say that sort of madness seems
contagious. Here's M'Whirter's horse performing a fandango, which is far
more curious than agreeable."

"What's the matter with Masaniello?" cried Archy Chaffinch; "he looks
seriously inclined to bolt."

I had awful suspicions of the same nature. No sooner had the regimental
band struck up, than my charger began to evince disagreeable signs of
impatience; he pawed, pranced, snorted, curveted, and was utterly deaf
to the blandishments with which I strove to allay his irritability. I
was even thankful when we were put into motion preparatory to the
charge, in the belief that action might render him less restive; and so
it did for a time. But no sooner had we broke into a gallop, than I felt
it was all up with me. I might as well have been without a bridle. The
ungovernable brute laid back his ears like a tiger, and I shot past
Randolph in an instant, very nearly upsetting that judicious warrior in
my course.

Nor was I alone. Pounset's mare, who never brooked a rival, and who,
moreover, had taken umbrage at the sonorous jolting of Anthony, was
resolved not to be outstripped; and, taking the bridle between her
teeth, came hard and heavy on my flank. The cry of "halt!" sounded far
and faint behind us. We dashed past a carriage, in which, from a
momentary glimpse, I recognised the form of Edith; while a dragoon
officer--I knew intuitively it was Roper--had drawn up his horse by the
side. They were laughing--yes! by heavens they were laughing--at the
moment I was borne away headlong, and perhaps to destruction. My sword
flew out of my hand--I had need of both to hold the reins. I shouted to
Pounset to draw in, but an oath was the only reply!

I heard the blast of the recall bugle behind us, but Masaniello only
stretched out more wildly. We splashed through the shallow pools of
water, sending up the spray behind us; and onwards--onwards we went
towards Joppa, with more than the velocity of the wind.

"Have a care, M'Whirter!" shouted Pounset. "Turn his head to the sea if
you can. There's a quicksand right before you!"

I could as easily have converted a Mussulman. I saw before me a dark
streak, as if some foul brook were stagnating on the sands. There was a
dash, a splash, a shock, and I was catapulted over the ears of
Masaniello.

I must have lost consciousness, I believe, for the next thing I remember
was