Чорний красень

24 The Lady Anne, or a Runaway Horse

           Blantyregroaned,“Now,Auster,doyourbest!”Hegavemeasteadyrein.Igatheredmyselfwelltogetherandwithonedeterminedleapclearedbothdikeandbank.

           Motionlessamongtheheather,withherfacetotheearth,laymypooryoungmistress.Blantyrekneeleddownandcalledhername:therewasnosound.Gentlyheturnedherfaceupward:itwasghastlywhiteandtheeyeswereclosed.“Annie,dearAnnie,dospeak!”Buttherewasnoanswer.Heunbuttonedherhabit,loosenedhercollar,feltherhandsandwrist,thenstartedupandlookedwildlyroundhimforhelp.

           Atnogreatdistancethereweretwomencuttingturf,who,seeingLizzierunningwildwithoutarider,hadlefttheirworktocatchher.

           Blantyre’shalloosoonbroughtthemtothespot.Theforemostmanseemedmuchtroubledatthesight,andaskedwhathecoulddo.

           “Canyouride?”

           “Well,sir,Ibean’tmuchofahorseman,butI’driskmyneckfortheLadyAnne;shewasuncommongoodtomywifeinthewinter.”

           “Thenmountthishorse,myfriend—yourneckwillbequitesafe—andridetothedoctor’sandaskhimtocomeinstantly;thenontothehall;tellthemallthatyouknow,andbidthemsendmethecarriage,withLadyAnne’smaidandhelp.Ishallstayhere.”

           “Allright,sir,I’lldomybest,andIprayGodthedearyoungladymayopenhereyessoon.”Then,seeingtheotherman,hecalledout,“Here,Joe,runforsomewater,andtellmymissistocomeasquickasshecantotheLadyAnne.

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