"I tell you, my lord, the curb-chain is too tight! The animal is suffering as you can have no conception of, or you would pity him." "Let him go," cried Forgue, "or I will make you." He raised his whip again, the more enraged that the groom stood looking on with his mouth open.
"I tell your lordship," said Donal, "it is my turn to strike; and if you hit the animal again before that chain is slackened, I will pitch you out of the saddle." For answer Forgue struck the horse over the head.

The same moment he was on the ground; Donal had taken him by the leg and thrown him off.
He was not horseman enough to keep his hold of the reins, and Donal led the horse a little way off, and left him to get up in safety.

The poor animal was pouring with sweat, shivering and trembling, yet throwing his head back every moment.

Donal could scarcely undo the chain; it was twisted--his lordship had fastened it himself--and sharp edges pressed his jaw at the least touch of the rein.

He had not yet rehooked it, when Forgue was upon him with a second blow of his whip.
The horse was scared afresh at the sound, and it was all he could do to hold him, but he succeeded at length in calming him.