eins.

"Don't yelp!" she said shortly. "Keep that till you're hurt. Say! what
happens to the road after the next turn?"

"I don't know. ... Oh, what shall we do? Why did we ever come? ...
Cornelia, can you hold her back?" ...

"No!" snapped Cornelia, shortly. "I can't!--Not for many minutes
longer, at this rate. My wrists are about broken as it is. What
happens after this turning, I say? You must know. Use your brains, for
goodness' sake--if you want any left to use another day. Is it a good
road--better than this? What's on the sides--hedgerows, walls, water?
For the land's sake, child, sort your ideas!"

Thus admonished, Elma made a violent effort to pull herself together.
For reasons already mentioned, this particular bit of country was
clearly imprinted on her memory, and she had but to collect her
scattered wits to see a clear picture of the path ahead.

"The road is quite good. There is a wall--two walls. Some farm
buildings on the right. At the end there is a hill; it leads down into
the next village."

"Humph!" Cornelia's nostrils dilated widely, and two spots of pink
showed on her white cheeks. "Then I guess this is the end of the
volume. A grass bank is better than a wall any day of the week. ...
Now then, young woman, if you've got any grit stowed away, get it out,
and use it. _It's coming_! Are you ready?"

"No, no!" shrieked Elma, wildly. She clutched the seat with despairing
hands, as with a sudden convulsive movement Cornelia switched the mare
violently to the right. "Help, help! Oh, help--"

The bank rose before her eyes in a sudden mountainous sweep; the mare,
instead of being in front, soared suddenly on the top of the trap; the
hinges creaked and strained; and the seat assumed a perpendicular
position. It was all over in a couple of minutes, but to Elma it seemed
as many hours. She had time to hear the rush of approaching footsteps,
to see over the top of the hedge three startled masculine faces; to
recognise the nearer of the three with a great throb of relief, and to
stretch out her arms towards him with a shrill cry of appeal--then the
crash came, and she was shot headlong into space.

Fireworks! that was the first impression. Little dots of flame flitting
about before her eyes, forming into circles of light and whizzing
rapidly round and round. Then when her eyes were open, a heavy confused
stupor, in which she saw, but refused to understand. Why was she lying