Of a sudden, a cry of terror arose. The horse of the princess had been struck by an arrow nearly spent, and the smart of the wound set it to plunging and kicking. When Peter saw it, it was running straight toward the place where the women and children were gathered. They scattered in fear, the mothers dragging the children to safety. But Peter, not stopping to think, ran to meet the horse. He was not at all afraid of horses, and knew all about them. The gypsy chief, Michael, was a trader, and while Peter had been with the gypsies, he had helped to handle unbroken horses.
Now he sprang straight in the path of the runaway. The horse swerved, as Peter had expected, and he caught the bridle. He was not strong enough to stop the frightened creature, but he was agile enough to hold on. The princess had clung to her seat, and was tugging at the reins. With the weight at his head, the horse soon slowed down and stood trembling, while Peter passed a soothing hand over his head. Then he saw the arrow which still stuck in the horse’s shoulder, and drew it out. The prince and his attendants came galloping up by this time, and Peter, much abashed, slipped away.
When the drill was over, Justus came, in much excitement, to find Peter.
“The hospadar (Prince) would speak to you!” he cried. “I tell you, Peter, you have done a fine thing to-day. They are saying all sorts of things about you. I would not have thought you had it in you. But come on, they are waiting.”
Poor Peter would have run away gladly, but Justus
