h sprang forward like a thunderbolt, and Gildart followed--if I
may so speak--like a zig-zag cracker. Now, it chanced that Lizzie's
horse was in a bad humour that morning, so it ran away, just as the
party came to a grassy slope of half a mile in extent. At the end of
this slope the road made a sharp turn, and descended abruptly to the
beach. Kenneth knew that if the horse came to this turn at a furious
gallop, nothing could save Lizzie from destruction. He therefore took
the only course open to him, which was to go by a short cut close along
the edge of the cliff, and thus overshoot and intercept the runaway. He
dashed spurs into Bucephalus, and was off like an arrow from a bow.
There was but one point of danger--a place where the bridle-path was
crossed by a fence, beyond which the road turned sharp to the left. The
risk lay in the difficulty of making the leap and the turn almost at the
same instant. To fail in this would result in horse and man going over
the cliff and being dashed to pieces. On they went like the wind, while
my son and I followed as fast as we could.

"Bravo, Kenneth!" shouted Gildart, as Bucephalus took the fence like a
deer, and disappeared.

Gildart did not know the dangers of the leap: I did, and hastened to the
spot with a feeling of intense alarm. On reaching it I saw Kenneth
flying far down the slope. He was just in time; a few seconds more, and
Lizzie would have been lost. But the bold youth reached the road in
time, caught her bridle, reined the horse almost on his haunches, then
turned him gradually aside until he galloped with him to a place of
safety.

This episode induced us to ride the rest of the way in a more leisurely
fashion.

Arrived at Cove, we each went on our several pieces of business,
arranging to meet at the north end of the village in about an hour
afterwards.

Kenneth found Stephen Gaff at home. Leaving Lizzie to make inquiry as
to the health of John Furby, he took the seaman out and walked towards
the Downs.

"Well, Stephen, you have been wrecked again, I am told?" said Kenneth.

"So I have, sir; it's the sixth time now. It's quite plain I ain't born
to be drownded. I only hope as how I won't live to be hanged."

"I hope not, Stephen. What was the name of the ship?"

"The `Fairy Queen.'"

"The `Fairy Queen,'" echoed Kenneth, with a slight feeling of
disappointment; "from Australia?"

"Yes, from Australia."

"Did she go to pieces?"

"Ay, n