At this moment from an adjacent farm-house, a large dog came bounding out with clamorous barking. The excited horses were ready at the slightest provocation to run, and now broke into a furious gallop. Harcourt sawed on the bits and shouted to them in vain. He was slight in build, and not very strong. Moreover, he had grown nervous and chilled and had lost his own self-control, and of course could not restrain the powerful creatures that were fast passing from mere excitement into the wild terror which is akin to a panic among men when once they give way before danger.
"Good God!" exclaimed Harcourt, after a moment; "I can't hold them, and we are near the top of a long hill with two sharp turnings on the side of a steep bank, and there's a bridge at the bottom. Whoa! curse you, whoa!"
But they tore on the more recklessly. Bel and Addie began to scream, and this increased the fright of the horses. Hemstead looked searchingly for a moment at Lottie, and saw with a thrill that her white face was turned to him and not to De Forrest.
"Is there danger?" she asked, in a low tone.
"Good God!" exclaimed Harcourt again, "I can't hold them."
Hemstead rose instantly, and turning with care in the swaying sleigh braced himself by planting one foot on the middle of the seat. He then said quietly, "Will you give me the reins, Mr. Harcourt? I am well braced and quite strong. Perhaps I can manage them."
Harcourt relinquished the reins instantly.
"Hush!" Hemstead said sternly to Addie and Bel, and they became quiet,—the weaker minds submitting to the roused and master mind.
Fortunately the trouble had occurred where there was a straight and level road, and a little of this still remained. The question with Hemstead was whether he could get control of the rushing steeds before they reached the hill.