of a crack. Stirrups--but what sinnifies? Could say much more, your
honour, but don't love chatter."

"Your simile is ingenious enough, if not poetical," said Walter; "but it
does not hold good to the last. When a man falls, his discretion should
preserve him; but he is often dragged in the mud by his stirrups."

"Beg pardon--you're wrong," quoth the Corporal, nothing taken by
surprise; "spoke of the new-fangled stirrups that open, crank, when we
fall, and let us out of the scrape." [Note: Of course the Corporal does
not speak of the patent stirrup: that would be an anachronism.]

Satisfied with this repartee, the Corporal now (like an experienced
jester) withdrew to leave its full effect on the admiration of his
master. A little before sunset the two travellers renewed their journey.

"I have loaded the pistols, Sir," said the Corporal, pointing to the
holsters on Walter's saddle. "It is eighteen miles off to the next town--
will be dark long before we get there."

"You did very right, Bunting, though I suppose there is not much danger
to be apprehended from the gentlemen of the highway."

"Why the Landlord do say the revarse, your honour,--been many robberies
lately in these here parts."

"Well, we are fairly mounted, and you are a formidable-looking fellow,
Bunting."

"Oh! your honour," quoth the Corporal, turning his head stiffly away,