The Story of the Red Cross as told to The Little Colonel | Page 4

old horse had been expecting.
A heavy board fell from the scaffold with a crash, knocking over a
ladder, which fell into the street in front of the frightened animal. Now
the old horse had been in several runaways. Once it had been hurt by a
falling ladder, and it had never recovered from its fear of one. As this
one fell just under its nose, all the old fright and pain that caused its
first runaway seemed to come back to its memory. In a frenzy of terror
it reared, plunged forward, then suddenly turned and dashed down the
street.
The plunge and sudden turn threw the sleeping coachman from the box
to the street. With the lines dragging at its heels, the frightened horse

sped on. The Little Colonel, clutching frantically at the seat in front of
her, screamed at the horse to stop. She had been used to driving ever
since she was big enough to grasp the reins, and she felt that if she
could only reach the dragging lines, she could control the horse. But
that was impossible. All she could do was to cling to the seat as the
carriage whirled dizzily around corners, and wonder how many more
frightful turns it would make before she should be thrown out.
The white houses on either side seemed racing-past them. Nurses ran,
screaming, to the pavements, dragging the baby-carriages out of the
way. Dogs barked and teams were jerked hastily aside. Some one
dashed out of a shop and threw his arms up in front of the horse to stop
it, but, veering to one side, it only plunged on the faster.
Lloyd's hat blew off. Her face turned white with a sickening dread, and
her breath began to come in frightened sobs. On and on they went, and,
as the scenes of a lifetime will be crowded into a moment in the
memory of a drowning man, so a thousand things came flashing into
Lloyd's mind. She saw the locust avenue all white and sweet in
blossom time, and thought, with a strange thrill of self-pity, that she
would never ride under its white arch again. Then came her mother's
face, and Papa Jack's. In a few moments, she told herself, they would
be picking up her poor, broken, lifeless little body from the street. How
horribly they would feel. And then--she screamed and shut her eyes.
The carriage had dashed into something that tore off a wheel. There
was a crash--a sound as of splintering wood. But it did not stop their
mad flight. With a horrible bumping motion that nearly threw her from
the carriage at every jolt, they still kept on.
[Illustration: "BUT IT DID NOT STOP THEIR MAD FLIGHT"]
They were on the quay now. The noon sun on the water flashed into her
eyes like the blinding light thrown back from a looking-glass. Then
something white and yellow darted from the crowd on the pavement,
and catching the horse by the bit, swung on heavily. The horse dragged
along for a few paces, and came to a halt, trembling like a leaf.
A wild hurrah went up from both sides of the street, and the Little

Colonel, as she was lifted out white and trembling, saw that it was a
huge St. Bernard that the crowd was cheering.
"Oh, it's H-Hero!" she cried, with chattering teeth. "How did he get
here?" But no one understood her question. The faces she looked into,
while beaming with friendly interest, were all foreign. The eager
exclamations on all sides were uttered in a foreign tongue. There was
no one to take her home, and in her fright she could not remember the
name of their hotel. But in the midst of her confusion a hearty sentence
in English sounded in her ear, and a strong arm caught her up in a
fatherly embrace. It was the Major who came pushing through the
crowd to reach her. Her grandfather himself could not have been more
welcome just at that time, and her tears came fast when she found
herself in his friendly shelter. The shock had been a terrible one.
"Come, dear child!" he exclaimed, gently, patting her shoulder.
"Courage! We are almost at the hotel. See, it is on the corner, there.
Your father and mother will soon be here."
Wiping her eyes, he led her across the street, explaining as he went how
it happened that he and the dog were on the street when she passed.
They had been in the gardens all morning and were going home to
lunch, when they heard the clatter of the runaway far down the street.
The Major could not see who was in the carriage, only that it appeared
to be a child. He was