One day the carriage needed some repairs so it was arranged that Smith would take it to town, leave it at the carriage maker's, and then ride me back again. Mr Blantyre wanted to go to the station, so he went with us.

However, some time later, York spoke again to Lord Gray, who was very kind-hearted, and he took, Reuben Smith back. Smith promised never to get drunk again and kept his promise, and because of this he was told to look after the stables while York was away.

Aman called Reuben Smith looked after us while York was in London. He was gentle and clever with horses, and an excellent driver. But he had one fault -- he sometimes drank too much. For weeks or months he was all right, but then without warning he would begin to drink heavily and behave badly. But he was a useful man so York had kept quiet about Smith's drinking, saying nothing to Lord Gray. Then one night Smith drove some ladies and gentlemen home from a party and was so drunk that he could not hold the reins. York could not hide this and Lord Gray told Smith to leave.

"It'll be all right until we get home," said Smith.

He finally came back at nine o'clock, shouting loudly and in a very bad temper. We left and almost immediately he began to gallop, often giving me sharp cuts with the whip, although I was going at full speed. Before we were out of the town my shoe came off, but Smith was too drunk to notice.

We left the carriage at the maker's, and Smith rode me to the White Lion hotel. He told the stableman to give me some food and have me ready for four o'clock. One of my front shoes was loose but the stableman did not see it until four o'clock. Smith came back at five and said he would now leave at six because he'd met some old friends. The stableman told him about the loose shoe.

It was very dark, and on the rough road at that speed, my foot was soon cut and bleeding from the sharp stones. I could not go on; the pain was too great, and I fell violently on both my knees. Smith was thrown off. He tried to get up but couldn't, then he lay still.

At the station, Mr Blantyre gave Smith some money and said, "Take care of Lady Anne, Reuben, and don't let anyone else except her ride Black Beauty."

I could do nothing but wait.

They looked at me and saw my cut knees.

It was nearly midnight when I heard a horse's feet and the wheels of a carriage. I neighed loudly, and was very happy to hear an answering neigh from Ginger, and men's voices. Then the carriage came out of the darkness and stopped.

Two men jumped down beside Smith. "It's Reuben," said one, "and he's not moving, Robert."

"He's dead," said Robert, touching Smith. "His hands are cold and his head is covered with blood."

Ned took Smith's body back in the carriage, and Robert tied his handkerchief round my foot and led me slowly home. No one blamed me for the accident. The owner of the White Lion hotel said that Reuben Smith was drunk when he left.

"The horse has been down and thrown him!" said Robert. He tried to lead me forward but I almost fell again. "He's bad in the foot, too. No wonder he went down, riding over these stones without a shoe! Reuben was drunk, Ned. He would never ride a horse without a shoe unless he was drunk."

But I had to leave Earlshall, and so did Ginger.

And so that summer I was sold to Mr Barry.

I was sold to a man in Bath who kept many horses and different kinds of carriages for hire. I was a "job horse" and all kinds of people hired me. Some were good drivers, others were very bad. Then one man persuaded my master to sell me to a friend of his who wanted a safe, pleasant horse for riding.

Mr Barry knew very little about horses but he hired a comfortable stable for me, and a man called Filcher to look after me. He ordered the best oats, and plenty of other good food for me to eat, too.

For a month or two I was allowed to live out in a field, and one day Ginger was brought in to join me. She had been ruined by the hard riding of Lord Gray's son, and aher twelve months'rest she was going to be sold. And although my knees got better, they looked very ugly and so I was no longer suitable for a fashionable family. It was very pleasant being in the field with Ginger, but one day Robert came in and took me away. We were both very sad to say goodbye to each other, Ginger and I.

For a while all went well, but then there seemed to be fewer oats and more grass in my meals. The grass food, though very good, was not enough to keep me strong and healthy. However, I could not say anything and it went on for about two months.

"Your horse doesn't look as well as he did when you first had him, Barry," he said, feeling my neck and shoulders. "See how wet and warm he is -- after just a gentle ride!"

"But this is only August!" said the farmer. "With your light work and the good food, he shouldn't be like this. I don't know who eats your oats, my friend," he went on, "but I doubt that your horse gets any of them. I advise you to watch your groom more closely."

"My groom says that horses are never in good condition in the autumn," said my master.

Then one afternoon my master rode into the country to see a friend -- a gentleman farmer who knew about horses, and who looked very closely at me.

Oh, how I wanted to speak! I wanted to tell my master where his oats went to. My groom came every morning at six o'clock, bringing his little by with him. The boy carried a basket and went into the room where the oats were kept. I would see them filling a bag with oats and putting the bag into the basket.

Five or six mornings after the visit to the farmer, the boy left the stable with his basket of oats, but came back soon after, looking frightened, with two policemen holding his arms.

"Show me where your father keeps the food for his chickens," one policemen said to the boy.

The boy began to cry but there was no escape. Moments later, the policemen found another empty bag like the one in the boy's basket, and they took Filcher away with them. That was the last I ever saw of him.

That day I was lucky. I was bought for twenty-five pounds by a man called Jeremiah Barker, but everyone called him Jerry and I shall do the same.

Another groom was employed, but he was very lazy about cleaning and I became thin and unhealthy from standing in a wet, dirty stable. After all this trouble with grooms, Mr Barry decided to stop keeping a horse and I was sent to a horse fair -- a place where hundreds of horses were bought and sold, and more lies were told, I think, than in any other place in the country.