At this point his musings were broken by confused shoutings and whistles. Looking up, Lionel saw with amused surprise that for once fate was playing into his hands; his dreams were coming true. An open brougham, drawn by a terrified horse, was approaching at an appalling speed. The coachman, crazed with fear, was standing up, tugging vainly at the reins, white, and shouting. In the brougham, pallid but calm, sat a girl of about twenty-three. Her lips were slightly parted, but no sound came from between them; courage held her erect, motionless and silent. The traffic divided before the swaying brougham like waves before a cutwater. When it was fifty yards distant the coachman lost all control of himself and with a scream of fear leaped from the box. He came down On his feet, staggered against a portly merchant--who went over like a ninepin--and lurched heavily on to a policeman preparing to make a dash for the horse's head. The constable fell with the man, and the pair, hero and craven, rolled comfortably in the kennel, clasped in each other's arms. Lionel, thus favored by destiny, fitted his hat more firmly to his head and prepared to make his fortune. In his early youth he had read that the best method of stopping a runaway is to run in the same direction. Remembering this, he set off at full speed; and by the time the horse was level with his shoulder he was running almost as fast. With a judicious leap he sprang at the reins, clutched them, stumbled, recovered and still ran. He was strong of arm and at least twelve stones in weight. The horse, already half-repentant of his lapse, was not inclined to support so heavy a burden at his mouth. A few yards more and the heroic part of the episode was over. Several officious touts were holding the horse's head, and another policeman was preparing to make notes. Lionel, panting from the unusual exertion, turned to look after the lady. She, who had behaved with such admirable composure while danger was imminent, now that it was over, lay in a faint. As he raised her in his arms he noticed with satisfaction that she was certainly beautiful and her clothes expensive and tasteful. "Ha! ha!" he thought whimsically, "a secretaryship! Governor of a Crown Colony at least! I must take a flat to-morrow!" He bore her into a chemist's shop that stood conveniently near, and placed her in a chair. While the chemist was applying sal volatile in the genteelest manner, Lionel was wondering whom he should ask to support him at St. George's. It was not long before the lady recovered her senses, and she opened her eyes with a ravishing sigh. She was naturally bewildered, and Lionel--partly because he wished to reassure her, partly because she was very pretty--knelt and took her hand. "There is no need for alarm," he said persuasively, with the purring note that some women find sympathetic. "You fainted; that is all." She gave the ghost of a shudder: "I fainted?"