he saw the
attempts made by his friends to overtake him, even though they failed to
accomplish their object.

At last Ernest despaired of catching the runaway, when he saw him at the
commencement of a long straight road, with no short cut to it, by which
he could hope to get ahead of Ellis. Still he and Buttar pursued.
Ellis went on, how many miles he could not possibly tell; he thought a
great number. He was getting very weary; his knees ached; so did his
shoulders. The road was picturesque, overhanging with trees. There
were houses ahead--a village, he thought. A boy in a field heard the
pony coming along the road. He had on a white pinafore. As he jumped
over the gate, it fluttered in the pony's face: that made him start, and
poor Ellis was thrown with considerable violence against some palings on
the opposite side of the road. His foot remained in the stirrup. On he
was dragged, when a gentleman, hearing the cry of the little boy with
the pinafore, came to the gate at the moment the pony was passing, and
caught his head. The little country-lad came to assist, and held the
pony while the gentleman disengaged Ellis's foot, and carried him into
his cottage, which stood near the road. Not long after, Ernest and
Buttar rode by.

"Are you companions of a young gentleman whose pony ran away just now?"
asked a voice from the shrubbery.

They said yes, and were requested to come in.

"He is not materially injured," said a lady, who had spoken to them as
they dismounted. "My husband has gone off, however, for a surgeon, a
clever man, who lives near, and my son is sitting by him while I came
out to watch for you. His great anxiety was that you should not miss
him. Now we will go in."

They found Ellis already in bed. He complained of a great pain in the
neck, and shoulder, and head, and the lady seemed to fear that he might
have dislocated his shoulder, and received a concussion of the brain,
and injured his spine.

Ellis, however, seemed not to be alarmed about himself, and only
expressed his regret that he was giving so much trouble.

After a little time the surgeon came, and pronounced that no bones were
either dislocated or broken, though the patient had been terribly
shaken, and ought not to be moved, but said that he thought that in a
day or two he would be all to rights.

The gentleman and lady, who said that their names were Arden, begged
Ernest and Buttar to remain with their friend; but at l