A FRIGHT AND A RESCUE.
For some time the ladies rode on in silence. Then Elsie broke into a fit
of ecstasy over the horses.
"They are so perfectly matched," she said. "Brother Grant needn't have
been doubtful about them; he sha'n't persuade you to change them, shall
he?"
"They are beautiful creatures," Bessie observed, absently.
"Naturally, Mr. Mellen was anxious that they should be entirely safe,"
said Mrs. Harrington, theatrically, "for he has trusted his dearest
treasures--his sister and his betrothed wife--to me; and if there is
danger, it is for them as well as me."
"What a pretty speech!" said Elsie. "I know you got it out of a novel!"
Elsie had a gay scarf wound about her neck, and began complaining of the
warmth.
"I would not take it off," Mrs. Harrington urged, "you will be certain
to get cold."
"There is no danger," replied Elsie; "I shall smother, wrapped up in
this way."
"But you must keep it on!"
"Indeed, I won't; there!"
They had a playful contention for an instant, then Elsie snatched the
scarf from her neck with a triumphant laugh, and held it up beyond Mrs.
Harrington's reach.
A sudden rush of wind carried the light fabric out of her hand, and it
sailed away like a gorgeous streamer. Elsie gave a little cry, but it
was frozen on her lips. One of the horses had been restive from the
first. The scarf floated over his head, curved downward, and one end got
entangled with his bridle. The shy, spirited creature gave a wild bound,
communicated like terror to his companion, and away the frenzied pair
dashed, taking the coachman so completely by surprise, that he was
helpless as a child. It was one of those brief occurrences which pass
like lightning to lookers-on, but seem an eternity to the persons in
danger. Mrs. Harrington's shrieks rang out sharp and shrill; Elsie gave
one shuddering moan, and crouched down in the bottom of the carriage,
hiding her face in Elizabeth's dress.
Elizabeth Fuller was deathly pale. She realized the full terror of their
situation. She uttered no shriek, but clasped her arms around Elsie, and
strove to speak a few reassuring words to Mrs. Harrington, which were
drowned by the woman's terrified shrieks.
Elizabeth looked desperately down the road over which the horses were
rushing like wild desert steeds. The carriages in sight were turned
quickly on one side, and their inmates seemed uncertain how to assist
them. Any attempt to stop the frightened and infuriated animals
threatened certain death.
Elizabeth saw this, and her heart died within her. They were now at the
top of a long hill, keeping the road, but hurled onward like lightning.
At the foot of the hill was a loaded cart, its driver vainly striving to
whip his team out of the way. The brave girl saw this new danger, and
fell back with a groan. She knew that the carriage would be whirled
against that ponderous load, and dashed to atoms. Effort was hopeless,
she could only stretch forth her arms, draw Elsie close, close to her
cold heart, and pray dumbly that she might in mercy be permitted to die
for _his_ sister.
Still, in her anguish and terror, she looked out beyond the leaping
horses, as they thundered down the hill. The man had sprung from his
cart, and, with his whip in both hands, was lashing his overtasked
beasts in frantic terror. Beyond him came a person on horseback, riding
furiously. But they were close to the cart now. It was still more than
half across the road. Sick with dread, she closed her eyes, holding
Elsie close, and turning, as it were, to stone, with the shrieking young
coward in her arms.
In another instant there was a shock which threw them all off their
seats; and when Elizabeth could realize anything, or recover from the
deafening effect of Mrs. Harrington's cries, she knew that the horses
had been stopped--the peril was over.
The gentleman she had discovered through blinding clouds of dust, riding
swiftly towards the hill, had seen their danger, dismounted, and with
ready presence of mind, prepared to seize the horses the instant the
carriage struck against the cart.
One wheel was forced partially off, but there was no other harm done.
Elsie and Mrs. Harrington had both flung themselves on Elizabeth, so
that she could neither see nor hear; but the widow discovering that she
was still alive, made a little moan, and began to shake out her flounces
when she saw the gentleman who had rescued them standing by the side of
the carriage.
"You are safe, ladies," he said, opening the door; "you had better get
out and walk on to the hotel--it is only a few steps."
"How can we ever thank you!" sobbed Mrs. Harrington. "You are our
preserver--we owe you our lives!"
He smiled a little at her exaggerated manner, which would break out in
spite of her real terror, and helped her to alight from the carriage.
"We are saved," moaned Elsie, lifting herself from Elizabeth's bosom.
"I'm not hurt--I'm not hurt!"
She was lifted out of the carriage, and stood trembling by Mrs.
Harrington. For the first time, relieved of their weight, Elizabeth was
able to move and look up.
The stranger was standing by the carriage with his arm extended to
assist her. She partially rose--then, and without the slightest warning,
beyond a deep, shuddering breath, sank back insensible.
Elsie and Mrs. Harrington gave a simultaneous cry, but there was no
opportunity for the widow to go into hysterics, as she had intended,
since the stranger and the footman were fully occupied in lifting
Elizabeth from the broken carriage. Elsie was crying wildly, "Bessie!
Bessie!" and wringing her hands in real affright.
"She has only fainted," said the stranger hurriedly; "we will carry her
on to the hotel."
He raised the insensible girl in his arms, and carried her down towards
the inn, as if she had been a child; while her companions followed,
sobbing off their terror as they went.
Once in the house, and the stranger out of the way, Mrs. Harrington
recovered her wits sufficiently to give Elizabeth assistance, and
restore her to consciousness.
Elizabeth opened her eyes, gave one glance around, and closed them
again.
"Are you hurt?" cried Elsie.
She shook her head.
"What made you faint so suddenly?" demanded Mrs. Harrington. "The danger
was over."
Elizabeth made a strong effort at self-control, sat upright, and tried
to answer.
"I can't tell--I--"
"Do you know that gentleman?" asked Mrs. Harrington.
"Why, how can she?" said Elsie.
"Well, she fainted just as she looked at him."
Elizabeth controlled herself, found strength to rise, saying in reply to
Mrs. Harrington's repeated inquiries--
"How should I know him?--what folly!"
But she was trembling so violently, that they forced her to lie down
again.
"Stay with her, Elsie," said the widow, "I will go and see how we are to
get home."
She went out of the room, and in the hall encountered the gentleman just
as she had expected.
She overwhelmed him with protestations of gratitude, to which he
listened with no great appearance of interest, though Mrs. Harrington
was too completely dazzled by his brilliant appearance and manner to
perceive the absent, preoccupied way in which he received her.
"I don't know how we are to get home," she said.
"Your coachman has engaged a carriage from the hotel-keeper," he
replied; "it will be ready in a few moments. Your own horses are not
hurt, luckily."
"I don't know what Mr. Mellen will say!" she exclaimed. "He warned me
not to keep the horses."
The stranger turned quickly toward her, with a sudden flush on his face.
"May I know whom I have had the pleasure of assisting?" he asked.
"I am Mrs. Harrington," she replied, "of ---- street. I am so--"
"And your friends?"
"Miss Mellen, the sister of Grantley Mellen; and the other lady is his
betrothed wife."
"She! That--"
"Yes, yes! Dear me, if any accident had occurred, how terrible it would
have been! They are to be married next week," continued the widow,
hurriedly. "Mr. Mellen is out of town, and will not be back till just
before his wedding. Oh, I shudder to think! Dear, dear sir, how can I
thank you!"
The servant came up that moment to say that a carriage was ready to take
the ladies back to the city, and the gentleman escaped from her flood of
meaningless gratitude.
Mrs. Harrington ran back to call her friends, and found Elizabeth quite
composed and strong again.
"He's the most magnificent creature!" exclaimed the widow. "And you
don't know him, Elizabeth?"
"Have I not said so? Come, Elsie."
As she passed into the hall, Elizabeth hurried on, leaving Mrs.
Harrington to repeat her thanks, and Elsie to utter a few low, and
apparently thankful words, to which he listened with more interest than
he had done to all the widow's raptures.
They were in the carriage: the door closed; the stranger gave his
parting bow, Elizabeth leaned further back in her seat, and they drove
on, leaving him standing in the road.
"His name is North," said Mrs. Harrington. "Such an adventure! What will
Mr. Mellen say?"
"We won't tell him yet," Elsie replied; "it would only frighten him. Be
sure and not mention it, dear Mrs. Harrington."
"Oh, of course not,--just as you like. But what a handsome man that was!
North--North? Who can he be? I have never met him!"
"Whoever he is, he has saved our lives," said Elsie.
"Yes, yes! But, dear Miss Fuller, how oddly you acted!"
"Do put up your veil, Bessie," added Elsie.
Elizabeth obeyed, showing her face, pale and tremulous still.
"I was very much frightened," she said; "I think my side was hurt a
little--that was why I fainted."
She made no other answer to their wondering questions, and they drove
rapidly back to Mrs. Harrington's house.
The stranger stood upon the porch of the hotel, looking after the
carriage so long as it was in sight, with a strange, inexplicable
expression upon his handsome face.
After a time, he roused himself, mounted his horse, and rode slowly back
to the city.