Forester felt somewhat
uneasy at having Marco ride any longer on the top, especially now that
the sailor was going up too.
But the coach was full. He himself was
wedged into his seat, so that he could not get out easily. He knew,
too, that two or three of the passengers were going to get out at the
next stage, and so he concluded to let Marco remain outside until that
time, and then to take him in again.
Marco's admiration for the sailor was very much diminished when he
saw how helpless he had rendered himself by his excesses, and how
unceremoniously the driver pulled and hauled him about, in getting him
into his seat.
"There! hold on there," said the driver to him, in a stern
voice, - "hold on well, or you'll be down head foremost under the
horses' heels, at the first pitch we come to."
The poor sailor said nothing, but grasped an iron bar which passed
from the top of the coach down by the side of the seat, and held on as
well as he could.
They rode on in this manner for some miles, the head of the sailor
swinging back and forth, helplessly, as if he was nearly asleep.
Whenever Marco or the driver spoke to him, he either answered in a
thick and sleepy tone of voice, or he did not reply at all. Marco
watched him for a time, being continually afraid that he would fall
off. He could do nothing, however, to help him, for he himself was
sitting at one end of the seat while the sailor was upon the other,
the driver being between them. In the mean time the sun gradually went
down and the twilight came on, and as the shadows extended themselves
slowly over the landscape, Marco began to find riding outside less
pleasant than it had been before, and he thought that, on the whole,
he should be very glad when the time arrived for him to get into the
coach again, with his cousin.
At length they came to a bridge, covered with planks, which led across
a small stream. It was in rather a solitary place, with woods on each
side of the road. Beyond the bridge there was a level piece of road
for a short distance, and then a gentle ascent, with a farmhouse near
the top of it, on the right hand side of the road. At the end of the
bridge, between the planks and the ground beyond them, there was a
jolt, caused by the rotting away of a log which had been imbedded in
the ground at the beginning of the planking. As it was rather dark,
on account of the shade of the trees, the driver did not observe this
jolt, and he was just beginning to put his horses to the trot, as they
were leaving the bridge, when the forward wheels struck down heavily
into the hollow, giving the front of the coach a sudden pitch forward
and downward. Marco grasped the iron bar at his end of the seat, and
saved himself; and the driver, who was habitually on his guard, had
his feet so braced against the fender before him, that he would not
have fallen. But the poor sailor, entirely unprepared for the shock,
and perhaps unable to resist it if he had been prepared, pitched
forward, lost his hold, went over the fender, and was tumbling down,
as the driver had predicted, head foremost, under the horses' heels.
The driver seized hold of him with one hand, but finding this
insufficient dropped his reins and tried to grasp him with both. In
doing it, however, he lost his own balance and went over too. He, of
course, let go of the sailor, when he found that he was going himself.
The sailor fell heavily and helplessly between the pole and the side
of one of the horses, to the ground. The driver followed. He seized
the pole with one hand, but was too late to save himself entirely,
and thinking there was danger of being dragged, and finding that the
horses were springing forward in a fright, he let himself drop through
to the ground also. The coach passed over them in a moment, as the
horses cantered on.
All this passed in an instant, and Marco, before he had a moment's
time for reflection, found himself alone on his seat, - the driver run
over and perhaps killed, and the horses cantering away, with the reins
dangling about their heels. The first impulse, in such a case, would
be to scream aloud, in terror, - which would have only made the horses
run the faster. But Marco was not very easily frightened; at least,
he was not easily made crazy by fright. So he did not scream; and not
knowing what else to do, he sat still and did nothing.
[Illustration: THE ACCIDENT.]
In the mean time, the passengers inside knew nothing of all this. Many
of them had been asleep when they came over the bridge. The jolt had
aroused them a little, but there was nothing to indicate to them
the accident which had occurred forward, so they quietly adjusted
themselves in their seats, and endeavored to compose themselves to
sleep again.
The horses were well trained and gentle. They cantered on as far as
the level ground extended, and then they slackened their pace as
they began to rise the ascent. The idea then occurred to Marco, that
perhaps he might clamber down over the fender to the pole, and then
walk along upon that a little way till he could gather up the reins.
Then he thought that if he could get back again with them to the
driver's seat, perhaps he could stop the horses. Marco was an expert
climber. He had learned this art in his gymnasium at New York; so that
he had no fears in respect to his being able to get down and back
again.
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