'Ho, heigh! stay them osses,' yelled the post-boy, who had picked himself up and was running over the down. 'Sit on their necks; kip 'em down.'
Joyce ran also, and reached the spot soon after him.
The postillion went straight at the horses, regardless of everything else, and cut their traces; whereupon they ran off, and he careered in full pursuit after them.
'Leave the beasts alone, boy,' shouted a young man who had disengaged himself from the shattered carriage, and was helping out a young lady. 'Leave the beasts and come here.'
'No, no, sir! The osses fust. Them's my concern.' And away went the boy.
'Here, girl,' said the same young man to Joyce, as she came up; 'help me.' He signed to her what to do, to raise a man who was lying motionless among the fragments of the carriage, to carry him a little distance, and lay him on the turf at full length.
'Stay by him whilst I go for the young lady.'
Joyce nodded.
The young lady was seated on the rock that had upset the carriage.
'What frightened the horses?' she asked.