m-car. Moreover, I didn't run
into anything. Two horses ran into me. I was coming down past the
Shambles into Duck Bank--very slowly, because I could hear a tram
coming along from the market-place--and just as I got past the
Shambles and could see along the market-place, I saw a lad on a
cart-horse and leading another horse. No stirrups, no saddle. He'd no
more control over either horse than a baby over an elephant. Not a bit
more. Both horses were running away. The horse he was supposed to
be leading was galloping first. They were passing the tram at a fine
rate."

"But how far were they off you?"

"About ten yards. I said to myself, 'If that chap doesn't look out
he'll be all over me in two seconds.' I turned as sharp as I could
away to the left. I could have turned sharper if I'd had your bicycle
in my right hand instead of my left. But it wouldn't have made any
difference. The first horse simply made straight for me. There was
about a mile of space for him between me and the tram, but he wouldn't
look at it. He wanted me, and he had me. They both had me. I never
felt the actual shock. Curious, that! I'm told one horse put his foot
clean through the back wheel of my bike. Then he was stopped by the
front palings of the Conservative Club. Oh! a pretty smash! The other
horse and the boy thereon finished half-way up Moorthorne Road. He
could stick on, no mistake, that kid could. Midland Railway horses.
Whoppers. Either being taken to the vets' or brought from the
vet's--_I_ don't know. I forget."

Rachel put her hand on his arm.

"Do come into the parlour and have the easy-chair."

"I'll come--I'll come," he said, with the same annoyance. "Give us a
chance." His voice was now a little less noisy.

"But you might have been killed!"

"You bet I might! Eight hoofs all over me! One tap from any of the
eight would have settled yours sincerely."

"Louis!" She spoke firmly. "You must come into the parlour. Now come
along, do, and sit down and let me look at your face." She removed his
hat, which was perched rather insecurely on the top of the bandages.
"Who was it looked after you?"

"Well," he hesitated, following her into the parlour, "it seems to
have been chiefly Mrs. Heath."

"But didn't they take you to a chemist's? Isn't there a chemist's
handy?"

"The great Greene had one of his bilious attacks and was in bed,
it appears. And the great Greene's assistant is only just out of
petticoats, I believe. Howeve