Prev | Current Page 292 | Next

Borrow, George Henry, 1803-1881

"The Romany Rye"

At last, as I was still madly
dashing on, panting and blowing, and had almost given up all hope,
I saw at a distance before me a heap of stones by the side of the
road, probably placed there for the purpose of repairing it; a
thought appeared to strike me--I will shy at those stones, and, if
I can't get rid of him so, resign myself to my fate. So I
increased my speed, till arriving within about ten yards of the
heap, I made a desperate start, turning half round with nearly the
velocity of a mill-stone. Oh, the joy I experienced when I felt my
enemy canted over my neck, and saw him lying senseless in the road.
"I have you now in my power," I said, or rather neighed, as, going
up to my prostrate foe, I stood over him. "Suppose I were to rear
now, and let my fore feet fall upon you, what would your life be
worth? that is, supposing you are not killed already; but lie
there, I will do you no further harm, but trot to Horncastle
without a rider, and when there--" and without further reflection
off I trotted in the direction of Horncastle, but had not gone far
before my bridle, falling from my neck, got entangled with my off
fore foot. I felt myself falling, a thrill of agony shot through
me--my knees would be broken, and what should I do at Horncastle
with a pair of broken knees? I struggled, but I could not
disengage my off fore foot, and downward I fell, but before I had
reached the ground I awoke, and found myself half out of bed, my
bandaged arm in considerable pain, and my left hand just touching
the floor.


Pages:
280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292 293 294 295 296 297 298 299 300 301 302 303 304