Richard pulled on his thick buff glove and went straight into his stall.  The brute made a grab at him with his teeth, met by a smart blow from Richard’s fist, which he did not like, and, rearing, would have struck at him with his near fore-foot; but Richard caught it by the pastern, and with his left hand again struck him on the side of the mouth.  The brute then submitted to be led out by the halter.  And verily he was ugly to behold.  His neck stuck straight out, and so did his tail, but the latter went off in a point, and the former in a hideous knob.

‘Here is Jack!’ cried the old man.  ’He lets Jack ride him to the water.  Here, Jack!  Get thee upon the hog-back of Beelzebub, and mind the bristles do not flay thee, and let master Richard see what paces he hath.’

The animal tried to take the lad down with his hind foot as he mounted, but scarcely was he seated when he set off at a swinging trot, in which he plied his posts in manner astonishing.  Spirit indeed he must have had, and plenty, to wield such clubs in such a fashion.  His joints were so loose that the bones seemed to fly about, yet they always came down right.

‘He is guilty of “hypocrisy against the devil,"’ said Richard:  ’he is better than he looks.  Anyhow, if he but carry me thither, he will as well “fill a pit” as a handsomer horse.  I’ll take him.  Have you got a saddle for him?’

‘An’ he had not brought a saddle with him, thou would not find one in Gwent to fit him,’ said the old man.

Yet another day Richard found himself compelled to tarry—­which he spent in caparisoning Beelzebub to the best of his ability, with the result of making him, if possible, appear still uglier than before.

The eve of the day of his departure, Marquis paid mistress Rees a second visit.  He wanted no healing or help this time, seeming to have come only to offer his respects.  But the knowledge that here was a messenger, dumb and discreet, ready to go between and make no sign, set Richard longing to use him:  what message he did send by him I have already recorded.  Although, however, the dog left them that night, he did not reach Raglan till the second morning after, and must have been roaming the country or paying other visits all that night and the next day as well, with the letter about him, which he had allowed no one to touch.

At last Richard was on his way to Gloucester, mounted on Beelzebub, and much stared at by the inhabitants of every village he passed through.  Apparently, however, there was something about the centaur-compound which prevented their rudeness from going farther.  Beelzebub bore him well, and, though not a comfortable horse to ride, threw the road behind him at a wonderful rate, as often and as long as Richard was able to bear it.  But he found himself stronger after every rest, and by the time he began to draw nigh to Gloucester, he was nearly as well as ever, and in excellent spirits; one painful thought only haunting him—­the fear that he might, mounted on Beelzebub, have to encounter some one on his beloved mare.  He was consoled, however, to think that the brute was less dangerous to one before than one behind him, heels being worse than teeth.