that I could see his
face, and guess what he meant to do. But it was decided and done in a
few seconds. He took Apollo on a little farther, and then stopped as
near the burning motor as he dared, so that there might be no danger of
our catching fire. Before we could have counted "one, two," he had
sprung from the car and was running toward the fiery chariot, with Young
Nick flying after him. Dick Burden got down, too, and sauntered in their
wake, but he didn't go very fast.
It was so exciting and confusing that I scarcely understood at first
what was happening, but Sir Lionel tore off his coat as he ran, and
flung it round the woman from the other car. She had not been on fire
when she jumped out, but the grass and bushes close by the road had
already begun to blaze, and her dress had caught in the flame. She was
tall and big, but Sir Lionel lifted her up as if she'd been a child,
and, wrapped in his coat, laid her down at a little distance on the
grass, where he rolled her over, and put out the fire. Then, when she
was on her feet again, panting and sobbing a little, he and the other
men began stamping out the flames playing among the low bushes, lest
they spread along the moor. As for the car, Sir Lionel said afterward it
was hopeless trying to save her, as there were gallons and gallons of
petrol to burn (it was her brakes that had got on fire, and ignited the
rest), and no sand or anything of that sort to throw on. But while we
were staring at the strange scene, the flames died down, having drunk up
all the petrol; and whether some part of the mechanism which held the
red-hot brakes in place gave way suddenly, I don't know. All I do know
is, that the car quivered, moved forward, began running down the
tremendous hill, faster and faster, until, with a wild bound, she
disappeared from our sight over a precipice.
By this time we were all out, except Emily, hurrying down the hill, to
talk to the people who had lost their car; but would you believe it,
they hardly cared for their loss, now they were out of danger? It was a
bride and groom, with their chauffeur, and they were Americans, staying
at the Imperial, in Torquay. The bridegroom was elderly but humorous,
and told us he used to hate motors and kept tortoises for pets, because
he liked everything that moved slowly, all his ancestors having come
from Philadelphia. But the girl he loved wouldn't marry him unless he
promised to take her to England on an automobile
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