“I am a coward,” she muttered to Mark with a ghastly smile, “and I doubt if even that will save my life;” and she began to put her pony in motion.
“It is only fifty yards across,” said Jervis, encouragingly; “it will be over in two minutes. I’ll get off and lead your pony, and I guarantee to take you over safely.”
“Are you going?” cried Colonel Sladen, impatiently. “Get along, and give the other women a lead. Oh!” to her escort, who had dismounted, “are you going too? Quite unnecessary.”
There was a sudden cessation of talking, argument, grumbling, chaff, and laughter. A curious silence fell on both sides of the bad bit. People looked on with awed, grave, or excited faces, as if they were witnessing some sensational drama, whilst they watched with breathless interest a notoriously timid little woman, on a notoriously ill-tempered pony, risking her life in obedience to her husband’s commands. She might get across safely, then again she might not. The chances were about even.
“Come along,” said Jervis, cheerfully, taking the Budmash by the head, with an air that showed that pink-eyed, red-haired gentleman that he was not going to stand any nonsense.
“Shut your eyes,” continued the young man, “and imagine that you are on a turnpike road; you will be at the other side before you really think that you have started. We are halfway across now.”
Yes, half of the journey had been satisfactorily accomplished. The Budmash led like a lamb; the tension of expectation had relaxed. Spectators were beginning to breathe freely, and even to turn away, when all at once there was a sound of galloping, a wild yell, a crash, a rattle of shale, and Mrs. Sladen, the pony, and Jervis had vanished down the Khud! There had been a momentary vision of two struggling people, four madly kicking shining shoes, and they had disappeared into a chasm of trees, and were completely lost to sight.
And what had caused the accident?
Why, Toby Joy, of course. Toby, who had been indulging in an outburst of tomfoolery, and riding backwards and forwards, dangling his feet out of the stirrups, and giving view-halloes, had taken too many liberties with a long-suffering animal—who was extremely anxious to get home, who was on the wrong side of the road for the tenth time, and who, when he at last “got a lead” from another pony, was simply not to be denied. His reckless master had left the reins on his neck, being, like every one else, an eager spectator of the martyrdom of Mrs. Sladen. Cupid had suddenly dashed forward, thundered down the declivity, cannoned violently against the Budmash, and hurled him and his companions into space.
For a moment there was an absolute silence, which was broken by Colonel Sladen, who roared out—