The sixty horsemen spread away for the start, the two pretty Amazons set their lips, a mob of peasants in blue blouses form a noisy fringing to the phaetons and barouches which have come to see thethrow-off, and conspicuous amidst all this we have M. Pistache's roan, which, unable to stand the music of the horns, first jumps, then pivots on its hind legs, then springs off like a shot, well-nigh wrenching M. Pistache's arms out of their sockets.