Christian life; Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Young women -- Conduct of life -- Fiction
Highly displeased with this decision, I resolved that Miss Mortimer,
whose forte certainly was not strength of nerve, should rue the mettle
of her charioteer. With this good-natured purpose, I privately arranged
that a race should be run between my steeds, and those which were
mounted by Miss Arnold, and one of the fry which had already begun to
swarm round the rich Miss Percy. We set off quietly enough, but we were
no sooner out of sight of my father's windows, than the signal was
given, and away we flew with the speed of lightning. I saw poor Miss
Mortimer look aghast, though she betrayed no other sign of fear, and I
had a malicious triumph in the thoughts of compelling her to sue for
quarter.
'Is it not better, my dear,' said she at last, 'to drive a little more
deliberately? The road is narrow here, and if we were to run over some
poor creature, I know you would never forgive yourself.'
There was such irresistible mildness in the manner of this
expostulation, that I could not disregard it; and I was checking my
horses at the moment, when my beau, who had fallen behind, suddenly
passed me. He gave them a triumphant smack with his whip, and the
high-mettled animals sprang forward with a vigour that baffled my
opposition: At this moment a decent-looking woman, in standing aside to
let me pass, unfortunately threw herself into the line of his course;
and I felt the horror which I deserved to feel, when my companions, each
bounding over her, left her lying senseless within a step of the
destruction which I had lost the power to avert.
From the guilt of murder I was saved by the fortitude of a stranger. He
boldly seized the rein; and, with British strength of arm turning the
horses short round, they reared, backed, and in an instant overturned
the carriage. The stranger, alarmed by this consequence of his
interference, hastened to extricate Miss Mortimer and myself; while our
jockeys, too intent on the race to look back, were already out of sight.
Miss Mortimer looked pale as death, and trembled exceedingly; yet the
moment she was at liberty she flew to the poor woman, whom the stranger
raised from the ground. They chafed her temples, and administered every
little remedy which they could command, while I stood gazing on her in
inactive alarm. At length she opened her eyes; and so heavy a weight was
lifted from my heart, that I could not refrain from bursting into tears;
but unwilling to exhibit these marks of a reproving conscience, I turned
proudly away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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