The Safety Curtain, and Other StoriesDell, Ethel M. (Ethel May)
General
The Safety Curtain, and Other Stories
Dell, Ethel M. (Ethel May)
Fiction
She spoke to Hector reassuringly and backed him several paces. He was
quick to grasp her desire and eager to fall in with it. She felt him
bracing himself under her, and she laughed in sheer delight as she set
him at the gate.
He went at it with a will over the broken ground, rose as she lifted
him, and made a gallant effort to clear the obstacle. But he was too
heavily handicapped. He slipped as he rose to the leap. He blundered
badly against the top bar of the gate, finally stumbled over and fell on
the other side, pitching his rider headlong into a slough of trampled
mud.
He was up in a moment and careering across the field, but Doris was not
so nimble. It was by no means her first tumble, nor had it been wholly
unexpected; but she had fallen with considerable violence, and it took
her a second or two to collect her wits. Then, like Hector, she sprang
up--only to reel back through the slippery mud and catch at the
splintered gate for support, there to cling sick and dizzy, with eyes
fast shut, while the whole world rocked around her in chaos
indescribable.
A full minute must have passed thus, then very suddenly out of the
confusion came a voice. Vaguely she recognized it, but she was too
occupied in the struggle to keep her senses to pay much attention to
what it said.
"I mustn't faint!" she gasped desperately through her set teeth. "I
mustn't faint!"
A steady arm encircled her, holding her up.
"You'll be all right in half a minute," said the voice, close to her
now. "You came down rather hard."
She fought with herself and opened her eyes. Her head was swimming
still, but she compelled herself to look.
Jeff Ironside was beside her, one foot lodged upon the lowest bar of the
gate while he propped her against his bent knee.
He looked down at her with a certain sternness of demeanour that was
characteristic of him. "Take your time," he said. "It was a nasty
knock-out."
"I--I'm all right," she told him breathlessly. "Where--where is Hector?"
"If you mean your animal," he said in the slow, grim way which she
began to remember as his, "he is probably well on his way home by now.
He'll be all right," he added. "The gate from this field into the road
is open."
"Oh!" The faintness was overcoming her again as she tried to stand. She
clutched and held his arm. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I--never felt so
stupid before."
"Don't be in a hurry!" he said. "You can't help it."
She sank back against his support again and so remained for a few
seconds. He stood like a rock till she opened her eyes once more.
She found his own upon her, but he dropped them instantly. "You are not
hurt anywhere, are you?" he said.
She shook her head. "No, it's nothing. I've wrenched my shoulder a
little, but it isn't much."
"Which shoulder?"
"The right. No, really it isn't serious." She winced as he touched it
with his hand nevertheless.
"Sure?" he said.
He began to feel it very carefully, and she winced again with indrawn
breath.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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