"The fool!" thought Morton. "He has done it now."
Fanny threw a laughing, caustic glance at her victim.
"Mine will leap, I know; and you are not a lady. Come, Mr. Stubb."
"Miss Euston," interposed the excited Mrs. Primrose, "this must not be. I am here in your mother's place, and she will hold me responsible for your safety. I forbid you to go, Miss Euston."
Fanny looked for a moment in her face. Morton caught the expression. It was one of unqualified, though not ill-natured, defiance.
"Come," cried Fanny again, and ran her horse towards the tree. She leaped gallantly, and cleared the barrier; but it was evident that she had lost control of the spirited animal, who galloped at a furious rate down the road.
Morton was still on foot, busied with his saddle girth.
"The crazy child!" exclaimed Mrs. Primrose; "her horse is running away. Go after her—pray!—Mr. Stubb—somebody."
"O, quick! quick!—do," cried little Miss Gosling, who idolized Fanny, and was in an agony of fright for her.
Thus exhorted, the desperate Stubb cried, "Get up," and galloped for the tree; but his horse balked, and, leaping aside, tumbled him into the mud. The ladies screamed. Morton would have laughed, if he had not been too anxious for Fanny.