preparing to venture into their borders!
What would Coppy say if anything happened to her? If the Goblins ran
off with her as they did with Curdie's Princess? She must at all
hazards be turned back.

The house was still. Wee Willie Winkie reflected for a moment on the
very terrible wrath of his father; and then--broke his arrest! It was
a crime unspeakable. The low sun threw his shadow, very large and very
black, on the trim garden-paths, as he went down to the stables and
ordered his pony. It seemed to him in the hush of the dawn that all
the big world had been bidden to stand still and look at Wee Willie
Winkie guilty of mutiny. The drowsy groom handed him his mount, and
since the one great sin made all others insignificant, Wee Willie
Winkie said that he was going to ride over to Coppy Sahib, and went
out at a foot-pace, stepping on the soft mould of the flower-borders.

The devastating track of the pony's feet was the last misdeed that cut
him off from all sympathy of Humanity. He turned into the road, leaned
forward, and rode as fast as the pony could put foot to the ground in
the direction of the river.

But the liveliest of twelve-two ponies can do little against the long
canter of a Waler. Miss Allardyce was far ahead, had passed through
the crops, beyond the Police-post, when all the guards were asleep,
and her mount was scattering the pebbles of the river bed as Wee
Willie Winkie left the cantonment and British India behind him. Bowed,
forward and still flogging, Wee Willie Winkie shot into Afghan
territory, and could just see Miss Allardyce a black speck, flickering
across the stony plain. The reason of her wandering was simple enough.
Coppy, in a tone of too-hastily-assumed authority, had told her over
night that she must not ride out by the river. And she had gone to
prove her own spirit and teach Coppy a lesson.

Almost at the foot of the inhospitable hills Wee Willie Winkie saw the
Waler blunder and come down heavily. Miss Allardyce struggled clear,
but her ankle had been severely twisted, and she could not stand.
Having thus demonstrated her spirit, she wept copiously, and was
surprised by the apparition of a white, wide-eyed child in khaki, on a
nearly spent pony.

"Are you badly, badly hurted?" shouted Wee Willie Winkie, as soon as
he was within range. "You did n't ought to be here."

"I don't know," said Miss Allardyce ruefully ignoring the reproof.
"Good gracious, child, what are you doing her