"If he will keep the road," he muttered.
I could not move my eyes from him. How pale he was! But he did not speak again. The horse ran a few rods, leaped across a ditch, clambered up a stone wall with his fore-feet, and fell backward!
Dr. White was in my room, washing my face. There was a smell of camphor about the bed. "You crawled out of a small hole, my child," he said, as I opened my eyes. It was quite dark, but I saw people at the door, and two or three at the foot of my bed, and I heard low, constrained talking everywhere.
"His iron feet made a dreadful noise on the stones, Doctor!"
I shut my eyes again and dozed. Suddenly a great tumult came to my heart.
"Was he killed?" I cried, and tried to rise from the bed. "Let me go, will you?"
"He is dead," whispered Dr. White.
I laughed loudly.
"Be a good girl—be a good girl. Get out, all of you. Here, Miss
Prior."
"You are crying, Doctor; my eyes feel dry."