Ned Creese, the landlord of Sawney's Cross, stood at his door, and beheld the ominous approach of the two travellers: he was mathematician enough to discover, that equi-distant as they were, from the point where their lines of direction intersected each other in the middle of the main road, and approaching toward such point with equal speed, something unpleasant must needs occur to one of the parties, at the transit. He beckoned, and called out to each of them as loudly as he could: but Harry was short sighted, and could not see his motions; and Ralph was rather hard of hearing, and could not make out what he meant; so that neither of them pulled up; and, as they were concealed from each other by the high hedges of the lanes, neither Harry nor Ralph was aware of the danger that menaced them, until they emerged from the bottom of the lanes. Ralph foresaw the event first, and, with might and main, attempted to pull his horse out of the way: he partly succeeded, but by checking his steed, and making him swerve from the direct line in which he was going, he gave Harry a decided advantage in the ensuing shock. The cousins had just time to ejaculate “Hoy, Ralph!” and “Hilloa, Harry!” when the blind galloway bore his off-shoulder against the tall troop-horse's hind quarters, and just such a catastrophe took place as Creese had anticipated:--Harry was thrown over his galloway's head; and Ralph, with his horse, and the galloway at his heels, were carried to the brink of a horse-pond by the road side. Ralph fell in the mud, and the horses went over him into the water; where they lay struggling together for a few moments; they then got up without assistance, and each limped homeward, leaving their owners to come after them as well as they could. “Hoy, Ralph!” and “Hilloa, Harry!” were the first words the cousins uttered. “Art hurt, lad?” asked Ralph.--“No,” was the reply;--“Art thee?” “Sound as oak; only a bloody nose, and a bump on the forehead.” “That's right, then; I don't feel much the matter myself; but dowl take thy blind galloway, for all that!” “He's worth his weight in gold;--didn't'ee see how he capsized you and your troop horse?” “You charged me in flank when I was filing off;--if I had met'ee full butt, Harry, I should ha' sent thee and thy galloway clean into the muck, and gone on without abating pace, or feeling a jerk in my balance.” “What, and not ha' turned round to say 'Hilloa, Harry?'” “Odd! yes, to be sure,--I'd say 'Hilloa, Harry!'--and what will'ee drink, besides.” “Well,--and what _shall_ we?” “I don't mind;--but let's ha' something, and make merry together for once.” “Wi' all my heart!--Here we be, safe from busy meddlers; and dash me if I don't feel inclined to make a day of it.” “Give me your hand;--this capsize was a bit of luck, weren't it?”