"O Nick," moaned Nellie, "we are going to be burned alive."
By using the whip, he managed to turn her again in the road, and then he struck her sharply with the lash.
"Nellie, catch hold of my arm," he said to her, feeling that even if everything came out in the best form, a severe struggle was before them.
The mare sniffed, and, glancing to her right and left, gave a whinny of terror as she dropped into her swiftest trot, which, a minute after, she changed to a gallop; but Nick brought her down instantly to her more natural gait.
Nellie slipped her arm under the elbow of her brother, and then clasped her two hands, so as to hold fast for the shock which she believed would soon come.
A large branch had fallen across the road, and Nick did not catch sight of it until too late to check the flying mare. The carriage seemed to bound fully a foot into the air, and an ominous wrench told the driver that it had suffered material damage.
But there was no time to stop and examine; the terrified horse sprang into a gallop again, and this time Nick did not restrain her.