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Bressant

Page 65

"Good-night, Profess'r Valeyon," said Bill, who, in harnessing the mare

had managed, with intoxicated ingenuity, so to twist one of the buckles

of the head-gear, that every time the reins were tightened, the sharp

tongue was driven in under her jaw-bone. The wagon rattled off at an

unusual speed; there was no need for a whip, and the professor

congratulated himself upon the fine condition of his steed.

"Hasn't shown such speed for years," muttered he, admiringly. "If I'd

only been a horse-jockey, now, I could have made a fortune out of her!

Points all superb--only wants a little training."

They had now descended the hill on which stood the village, and were

flying along the level stretch between the willow-trees. The wheels

crunched swiftly and smoothly along the ruts, or, striking sharply

against a stone, made the old wagon bounce and creak. Dolly was putting

her best foot foremost, and her ears were laid back close to her head:

though that, by reason of the darkness, Professor Valeyon could not see.

He and Dolly had travelled this road in company so often, however, and

every turn and dip was so well known to him, that it never would have

occurred to him to feel any anxiety. Beyond keeping a firm hold of the

reins, he let the mare have her own way.

In a few minutes the willow stretch was passed, and they began to

stretch with vigorous swing up the slope. Dolly's haunches were visible,

working below in the darkness, and occasionally a spark of fire was

struck from the rock by her hoof. Really she was doing well to-night. As

they topped the brow of the slope, the professor tightened the reins a

little. It wouldn't do to let the old mare overwork herself. But,

instead of slackening her pace, she sprang forward more swiftly than

ever.

"That's odd!" murmured the old gentleman. "Can any thing be the matter,

I wonder?" and he gave another steady pull on the reins. The wagon was

jerked forward with such a wrench as almost to throw him backward. There

was no doubt that something was the matter, now.

By this time they were within a quarter of a mile of the Parsonage, and

rapidly approaching the sharp bend around the rocky spur of the hill.

Dolly's skimming hind-legs spurned the road faster and faster, and the

fences flickered by in a terrible hurry. They whisked around the curve

with a sharp, grating sound of the wheels on the rock, and the Parsonage

lay but a short distance ahead. Suddenly a white object seemed to rise

out of the road not more than a hundred yards in advance. Dolly, with

the bit caught vigorously between her teeth, stretched her neck and head

out and ran. Professor Valeyon, bracing himself with his feet against

the dash-board, leaned back with his whole weight and sawed the reins

right and left. When within a few yards of the white object--which

seemed to have fluttered back to one side of the road--his right rein

broke: he lost his balance and fell over backward into the bottom of the

waggon, while Dolly, quite unrestrained, dashed on madly.

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