in danger--that the carriage, already swaying, would be
overturned--might be dashed in pieces, and Hope--

He came near as the horses were about turning. The street toward which
they were heading was narrow, and on the other corner from him there was
a wall. They were running toward Gabriel down the main road; but just as
he came up with them he flung himself with all his might toward the
animals' heads. The startled horses half-recoiled, turned sharply and
suddenly--dashed themselves against the wall--and the carriage stood
still. In a moment a dozen men had secured them, and the danger was past.

The door was opened, and the ladies stepped out. Mrs. Simcoe was pale,
but her heart had not quailed. The faith that sustains a woman's heart
in life does not fail when death brushes her with his finger-tips.

"Dear child!" she said to Hope, when they both knew that the crisis was
over, and her lips moved in silent prayer and thanksgiving.

Hope herself was trembling and silent. In her inmost heart she hoped it
was Abel Newt who had saved them. But in all the throng she did not see
his face. She felt a secret disappointment.

"Here is your preserver, ma'am," said one of the villagers, pushing
Gabriel forward. Mrs. Simcoe actually smiled. She put out her hand to
him kindly; and Hope, with grave Sweetness, told him how great was their
obligation. The boy bowed and looked at her earnestly.

"Are you hurt?"

"Oh! no, not at all," replied Hope, smiling, and not without some effort,
because she fancied that Gabriel looked at her as if she showed some sign
of pain--or disappointment--or what?

"We are perfectly well, thanks to you."

"What started the horses?" asked Gabriel.

"I'm sure I don't know," replied Hope.

"Abel Newt started them," said Mrs. Simcoe.

Hope reddened and looked at her companion. "What do you mean, Aunty?"
asked she, haughtily.

Mrs. Simcoe was explaining, when Abel came up out of breath and alarmed.
In a moment he saw that there had been no injury. Hope's eyes met his,
and the color slowly died away from her cheeks. He eagerly asked how it
happened, and was confounded by hearing that he was the cause.

"How strange it is," said he, in a low voice, to Hope, as the people
busied themselves in looking after the horses and carriage, and Gabriel
talked to Mrs. Simcoe, with whom he found conversation so much easier
than with Hope--"how strange it is that just as I was wondering when
and where and how