danced with astonishing vigour and adroitness on a raised
wooden platform.

But Arthur's attention had hardly been turned upon the dancers when it
was diverted in another direction. What should he catch sight of, a good
deal to his astonishment, but his little Dorking hen stepping quietly
about among the people, unconcerned and unmoved by the stir and the
bustle, paying heed to nobody, and no one giving heed to it.

At the moment Arthur caught sight of his truant hen, it was passing
under a carriage, quietly pecking among the grass and ferns in its
march. So he approached, and cautiously bent down on his hands and knees
to get at the hen. It was almost within his grasp when a sharp report
rang through the air--a rifle-discharge, the signal for a foot-race to
begin. The next moment he felt a heavy blow on his shoulder, which
knocked him flat upon his back. A mist rose up before his eyes, in which
the whole world around him seemed to float for a moment; then he felt
himself being dragged suddenly and forcibly backward, and then he knew
no more.

Arthur had gone off in a faint; but it only lasted a few moments. When
he came to himself, he beheld a little crowd of people gathered round
him, and a man was bending down and bathing his forehead with a wet
handkerchief. Then he saw another figure stretched on the ground at his
side, quite motionless and silent. It was the form of a boy; the face
was turned upwards, and to his great astonishment Arthur found that it
was the poor lad to whom he and his sister had given the food on the
previous day.

"I saw the whole thing. It was all over in a twinkling," a gentleman was
saying. "The boy was bending under the carriage reaching forwards to
secure the bird. At that moment the gun went off, the horses started
forward, and the wheel came against the boy, and knocked him backward.
Just then this poor little fellow rushed forward right among the wheels
of the carriage, caught the boy, and dragged him out, but not in time to
save himself. The wheel passed over his leg, and I am afraid it is badly
hurt."

By this time Arthur was on his feet.

"Oh! he is not dead, Dr. Bruce, is he?" he asked of the gentleman, who
was busy examining the boy, and whom he knew quite well as the doctor of
the district.

"No, not so bad as that, I hope; but a rather bad break, I am afraid.
It was a close shave for _you_, laddie. But for this brave boy the
carriage-wheel would have passed right over y