"I mean some day to go and see all these places," he was saying. "You know, they are real places, and some of the people were real people. Perhaps they all were. Varina, don't you splash the water over Annis."
Varina had picked up a slender dead branch, and was beating up waves in the little creek. The spray went quite a distance.
"No matter," said Annis. "A little water doesn't hurt. But tell me, did they really put out Prince Arthur's eyes? How could they be so cruel?"
"I don't see how you can take an interest in such people. You're always talking about wars and all manner of terrible things."
Varina brought her stick down with emphasis. Sam had been stepping softly about the edge of the creek, the cool water laving his hoofs. He had not minded the sprinkling on his sides, but this gave him a drench in the face. He threw up his head and turned to walk out. Charles had dropped the bridle rein, but Sam was gentle enough. As he reached the edge he stepped on a rolling stone, stumbled, tried to regain his poise, but both horse and boy went over. Sam righted himself in a moment, but Charles lay quite still.
"Oh, if you have killed him!" cried Annis.
Varina was white with an awful fear, too much alarmed to make a sound. It was Annis who flew to his side. She bathed his face and head with her handkerchief. Sam came and looked on with a human expression in his eyes. Charles stirred and sighed.
"Oh, he isn't dead!" cried Annis joyfully.
"No, I'm not dead." Charles sat up, wincing a little. "What happened?"
Varina pushed Annis aside and knelt down with her arms around him. "I'm so sorry!" she began. "But that little douse didn't make Sam stumble. What can I do? Shall I run up to the house for anything?"