"The gentleman who entered, tied it to the wheel."
"It is a valuable animal, and I should like to be sure it is unhurt; but how can I go through this mud?"
"I can bring it here," proposed the stripling.
"Do so, I prithee, and I shall be most grateful to you."
But the barb reared and neighed when he went up.
"Do not be afraid," said the lady: "it is gentle as a lamb. Djerid," she called in a low voice.
The steed recognized the mistress's voice, for it extended its intelligent head toward the speaker, while the youth unfastened it. But it was scarcely loose before it jerked the reins away and bounded up to the vehicle. The woman came forth, and almost as quickly leaped on the saddle, with the dexterity of those sylphs in German ballads who cling to riders while seated on the crupper. The youth sprang toward her but she stopped him with an imperative wave of the hand.
"List to me. Though but a boy, or because you are young, you have humane feelings. Do not oppose my flight. I am fleeing from a man I love, but I am above all a good Catholic. This man would destroy my soul were I to stay by him, as he is a magician whom God sent a warning to by the lighting. May he profit by it! Tell him this, and bless you for the help given me. Farewell!"
Light as the marsh mist, she was carried away by the gallop of Djerid. On seeing this, the youth could not restrain a cry of surprise, which was the one heard inside the coach.