“By no means!” exclaimed the gentleman, whom they afterwards heard addressed as Don Roderigue. “I repeat it with even more earnestness than before.”
“Thank you, sir; and we shall be very happy to avail ourselves of your permission to visit your gardens.”
“You are all officers, I see,” continued Don Roderigue, who evidently had some Yankee curiosity.
“In one sense we are: we are all connected with the academy squadron, now moored in the port of Funchal.”
The Portuguese had never heard of it; and the surgeon briefly explained it, and invited Don Roderigue to visit the ships of the squadron. He promised to do so, and he and the young lady proceeded to mount their horses. The father was safely seated on his little steed, and the groom was assisting the daughter to the saddle, when the little brute suddenly whirled about like a top, and started off at a dead run. Dona Maria’s foot had not been fairly placed in the stirrup, nor had she taken the reins into her hands; so that she was almost helpless.
The two grooms started after the little horse; but, the faster they ran, the more intent the brute became to get away from them. The father uttered an exclamation of anguish, and galloped his horse in the direction the lady’s steed had taken. The students were almost paralyzed with fear for the safety of the beautiful girl. The runaway pony turned a corner at the end of the garden; and, at this moment, Scott darted across the grounds, leaped over a high wall, and came into a road in the rear of the estate, the geography of which he had been studying from the top of the Pico de Sao Joao. He came into the road just ahead of the horse; and he was a long distance in advance of the grooms and the lady’s father. Dona Maria had evidently lost her footing in the stirrup; for she had slipped partly off the saddle, and was clinging with both hands to the pommel.
Scott had thrown off his uniform coat as he ran across the garden, so that he might be free to act when he tackled the horse; and he felt strong enough just then to throw him over the high wall if he could get hold of him. He sprang into the middle of the road; and it was nothing more than a narrow lane, leading to the stables of the estate, which the pony seemed to prefer to an excursion in the delightful air of the afternoon. The vicious little brute saw him, and attempted to pass at one side of him; but Scott was quick enough to catch him by the bridle-rein. Then came the tug of war; for the pony was not disposed to be so easily captured, and began to rear and plunge to disengage himself from his captor. But Scott was used to horses, and held on. In a moment he had brought the horse down sufficiently to enable him to put his arm around the waist of the maiden, and lift her to the ground.
She was out of breath, so that she could not speak, though she gasped out some sentences in her native tongue, which Scott could not understand. She was too weak to stand; and the gallant lieutenant was compelled to hold her with one arm, and the horse with the other, till assistance came. Don Roderigue was the first to arrive upon the spot. He leaped from his horse, and seized his daughter in his arms.
“Was she thrown from the horse?” he asked.
“No, sir: I don’t think she can be much hurt,” replied Scott; and he described her position at the moment he had stopped the pony.