W

WHERE THE PEGU WENT.

HEN the pony, frightened by the stone thrown at him by the priest, dashed off,

he went back some little way towards Delhi, but not very far. It was because he turned down a steep hill that Mrs. Brisbane so soon lost sight of him and her husband. It was only fear that gave the poor animal strength to run any more, as he had come many miles that morning, and was already tired. The blow from the stone was a hard one; and besides this, Mr. Brisbane, having just come off parade when he started, was still in uniform, of which a sword forms part This, from the fast pace at

knocked against his si

to make him th

to go faster.

him, as the reins were not on the headstall, having been used to fasten the cushion on as a saddle, so that the bit was useless to pull him in by. All Mr. Brisbane could do was to try and stick on by pressing his knees against the horse's sides, and this he did. After galloping two or three miles, they came to a native village of a few huts built of bamboo, and thatched with grass. Here was a fallen tree just across their path, which Rufus, blind with fear, ran against, and in so doing fell down, and sent Mr. Brisbane right over his head. Some women ran out of one of the houses at the noise, when they saw, to their great surprise, what they thought was a dead pony with a dead man beside him.

Cyril was alive, there was no doubt of that,—for the baby, who, from the speed with which he had been carried, had had no breath to scream before, now roared lustily. He was not hurt, for his father, falling face downwards, had broken the baby's fall; and Cyril, still strapped to his back, was quite uninjured. At first, the women stared at the officer lying there as if dead; then they went up to the pony, who was past help, for he had knocked his brains out with the force of the blow he had given himself against the tree. After that, one of them began to undo the sash that bound the baby to his father. They chattered over him in a language he did not understand, and one carried him