She lashed at the pony like one who endeavours to
escape from some pressing danger, glancing ever backward over her
shoulder. The bend of the road concealed from me what it was
that had alarmed her, and I ran forward not knowing what to
expect.
The next instant I saw the pursuer, and my amazement was
increased at the sight. It was a gentleman in the red coat of an
English fox-hunter, mounted on a great grey horse. He was
galloping as if in a race, and the long stride of the splendid
creature beneath him soon brought him up to the lady's flying
carriage. I saw him stoop and seize the reins of the pony, so as
to bring it to a halt. The next instant he was deep in talk with
the lady, he bending forward in his saddle and speaking eagerly,
she shrinking away from him as if she feared and loathed him.
You may think, my dear friends, that this was not a sight at
which I could calmly gaze. How my heart thrilled within me to
think that a chance should have been given to me to serve the
Lady Jane! I ran--oh, good Lord, how I ran! At last,
breathless, speechless, I reached the phaeton.
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