But just at that moment there came from the Upper Road a blast of a horn, followed by the clatter of hoofs. Barney's mare started and flung herself almost back on us; then she was off like the wind. Barney had always said that she had a touch of the racer. Perhaps the events of the day had wakened it in her. Anyhow the noise of the drags was too much for her, and she was off. CHAPTER IV. I PAY THE RECKONING. I just remember the boys shouting at us to hold on and sit steady. We didn't require that instruction, for every country-bred girl knows that the only thing to do when a horse bolts, is to keep quiet and do nothing. I gripped my side of the car and watched Hugh, who was driving beside me, fling himself half-way across the car in his effort to keep a tight grip of the reins. The wretched car was swinging from side to side, and I caught a glimpse of Esther, rather pale, holding on quietly to her side as I was doing to mine. I wondered at the calm of my own mind. "If we meet nothing," said I, "and the harness holds, we are safe enough, for it won't take long to tire her out." On the other hand, if the harness did not hold, or we met anything coming in the opposite direction, some of us would get hurt. I watched the flying hedges as the car flung us high and low, with an absolute calm that looked neither before nor after. I hope God always sends such courage when one really needs it. So the mad flight went on in absolute silence as far as we were concerned. But of course the wretched harness could not stand the strain. Hugh suddenly fell back towards us with a broken rein in his hand. The mare gave a tremendous leap to one side. There was a heap of stones on the side of the road, obligingly left there for our misfortune by Mullaly, the road contractor. In a moment she had kicked herself free of her harness and was off again, but I saw nothing of this, for I was lying at the bottom of a deep ditch, with my foot turned under me, and I don't know how many newts and young frogs walking about my pink frock. I am not the fainting sort, but the fall stunned me. When I came to myself I had my head on somebody's shoulder. I looked up into the face bending over me, and saw a pair of gray eyes full of honest concern for me. It was the young man who had been Miss Pettigrew's escort. He was bathing my face with a silk handkerchief dipped in water someone had brought. I looked at him for a minute and tried to sit upright, but I only succeeded in uttering a sharp cry. "My poor little girl," he said with pitying tenderness, "I am afraid you are hurt. Where is it?" [Illustration: "MY POOR LITTLE GIRL, I AM AFRAID YOU ARE HURT!"] "My foot," I gasped; and I felt that I was half-fainting again with pain. "Keep quiet. It is probably sprained," he said quickly. "Let me look at it." I heard him call to someone for a coat, which he arranged under my head. Then I remembered. "Are the others all right?" I cried.