or two. But it is strange that his season of the year we have so much thunder and lightning, with scarce a drop of rain. Steady, Charlie, my man," said he, affectionately addressing his horse, whom a more vivid flash than usual right across the eyes had terrified afresh—"you've gone far enough to-day to sober you, so you needn't plunge like that," and he patted and soothed he frightened animal.
He had not ridden half a mile farther when he heard voices apparently of some people in distress, where voices were not usually heard, and a loud "cooey" directed him to the spot, which was a some distance off he road. There he found his was not he only horse made restive by the lightning, for Mr. Hammond's spring-cart had been overturned; the horse having dragged it till the wheel had caught in a charred stump, when it had tilted over, and thrown out the three occupants of the vehicle, while the horse had got loose from his traces and had run off. One of the party he knew well—Tom Cross, Mr. Hammond's groom—who now limped sadly towards him with a badly sprained ankle; but the other two—a gentleman who lay on the ground dead or insensible, and a girl apparently about thirteen, who hung over him in an agony of grief and terror—were absolute strangers to Allan.