stop was dangerous,—to leave her was impossible: what was a man to do?—She was now relying upon me rather than her saddle; and it was fortunate that she did so, for this gave way, whilst I, constitutionally, kept my post, like an Envoy Extraordinary, with a troublesome attachée. With my right arm, I supported the poor girl who had swooned with fright, though I switched and jerked with my left, with a spirit of apprehension unknown to a Melton Mowbryan. All would not do: away we went, but whither we were going I could not contemplate: I had, however, some confused ideas of the Knights of Romance and the Rape of the Sabines, and had time to conclude that the equestrianism I had witnessed at Amatitañ was a fool to mine, and that Astley would have given a fee simple of his establishment for the picture we exhibited. After a precipitous run, for some seconds, my horse, fortunately, became so entangled with the underwood of the forest, that he could proceed no farther: I loosened my
