"I'll have her run away with!" I cried, growing vicious in my wrath;
"and both Bonetti and Osborne shall place her under eternal
obligations by rushing out to stop the horse, one from either side of
the street. She'll have to meet Bonetti then," I added, with a
chuckle.
And I tried that plan. As docile as a lamb she entered the phaeton,
which I conjured up out of my ink-pot, and like a veteran Jehu did
she seize the reins. I could not help admiring her as I wrote of it-
-she was so like a goddess; but I did not relent. Run away with she
must be, and run away with she was. But again did this extraordinary
woman assert herself to my discomfiture; for the moment she saw
Bonetti rushing out to rescue her from the east, she jerked the left
rein so violently that the horse swerved to one side, toppled over on
Osborne, who had sprung gallantly to the rescue from the west; and
Bonetti, missing his aim as the horse turned, fell all in a heap in
the roadway two yards back of the phaeton. Miss Andrews was not
hurt, but my story was, for she had not even observed the unhappy
Osborne; and as for Bonetti, he cut so ridiculous a figure that,
Italian though he was, even he seemed aware of it, and he shrank
dejectedly out of sight.
Pages:
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89