“Stop that goat!” cried the first boy.
“I will,” said the other, holding out his whip.
[“Mother, Mother!” he cried. “Look! Look! It—it’s Lightfoot—come back to us!”]
Lightfoot did not know what to do. He did not want to run into the woods on one side of the path, for fear he would be lost again. Nor could he swim if he jumped into the canal. And then he saw, right in front of him, a bridge over the water.
“That’s my chance,” thought the goat, and lightly he leaped to one side, getting away from both boys, and over the bridge he ran. The boys did not dare leave their horses long enough to follow.
Over the bridge and down a country road on the other side of the canal ran Lightfoot. He saw some cows and sheep in the fields on either side of the road. Then he saw a little white house with green shutters. In the front yard, picking some flowers, was a woman. Lightfoot looked at her.
“I wonder—I wonder,” said Lightfoot slowly to himself, “where I have seen that woman before, for I am sure I have.”