evor remained in a state of horrified surprise no one
can tell, for he was incapable of observation at the time, besides being
alone. On returning to consciousness he found himself galloping towards
the exploded fortress at full speed, and did not draw rein till he
approached the bank of the rivulet. Reflecting that a thoroughbred
hunter could not clear the stream, even in daylight, he tried to pull
up, but his horse refused. It had run away with him.

Although constitutionally brave, the boy felt an unpleasant sensation of
some sort as he contemplated the inevitable crash that awaited him; for,
even if the horse should perceive his folly and try to stop on reaching
the bank, the tremendous pace attained would render the attempt futile.

"Stop! won't you? Wo-o-o!" cried Tolly, straining at the reins till the
veins of his neck and forehead seemed about to burst.

But the horse would neither "stop" nor "wo-o-o!" It was otherwise,
however, with the pony. That amiable creature had been trained well,
and had learned obedience. Blessed quality! Would that the human
race--especially its juvenile section--understood better the value of
that inestimable virtue! The pony began to pull back at the sound of
"wo!" Its portion in childhood had probably been woe when it refused to
recognise the order. The result was that poor Tolly's right arm, over
which was thrown the pony's rein, had to bear the strain of conflicting
opinions.

A bright idea struck his mind at this moment. Bright ideas always do
strike the mind of genius at critical moments! He grasped both the
reins of his steed in his right hand, and took a sudden turn of them
round his wrist. Then he turned about--not an instant too soon--looked
the pony straight in the face, and said "Wo!" in a voice of command that
was irresistible. The pony stopped at once, stuck out its fore legs,
and was absolutely dragged a short way over the ground. The strain on
Tolly's arm was awful, but the arm was a stout one, though small. It
stood the strain, and the obstinate runaway was arrested on the brink of
destruction with an almost broken jaw.

The boy slipped to the ground and hastily fastened the steeds to a tree.
Even in that hour of supreme anxiety he could not help felicitating
himself on the successful application of pony docility to horsey
self-will.

But these and all other feelings of humour and satisfaction were
speedily put to flight when, after crossing the