The boy noted that her eyes were large and blue, that she wore a great shining ornament in her hair, and that she appeared to be dressed in somewhat fanciful manner, though the big cloak she wore concealed the details.
The door of the mansion opened, and servants came running out.
Suddenly the boy received a violent blow on the side of the head.
"Confound you!" shouted the man who had fallen on the pavement, "why didn't you get out of the way when I told you?"
The boy, astounded by such recognition of his timely help, made no reply, but the girl protested vehemently.
"Oh, uncle," she cried, "why did you strike him? He got me out of the carriage just before it turned over. He did, indeed!"
Another vivid flash of lightning illumined the scene. It lit up the group with starling brilliancy. The boy, still somewhat shaken by the vicious blow, was nevertheless able to see clearly the pale, handsome, but dissipated features of his enraged assailant, whose evening dress and immaculate linen were soiled by the black mud of the pavement. The girl, dainty and fairy-like, a little maid of aristocratic type, and of a beauty that promised much in later years, was distressed now and almost tearful.
Through the crowd of frightened servants, augmented by a few daring pedestrians, a burly policeman, gigantic in waterproof overalls, was advancing with official bluster.
"What has happened?" he demanded. "Is anybody hurt?"
The man answered: