For one moment they halted, cursing and
waving; their pistols, preparing for a charge; and in that crucial
moment the tutor from New England came like a thunderbolt to the rescue.
Shrieks of terror from children, shrieks of outraged modesty from women,
rent the air down the street where the huddled crowd was rushing right
and left in wild confusion, and, through the parting crowd, the tutor
flew into sight on horseback, bareheaded, barefooted, clad in a gaudily
striped bathing suit, with his saddle-pockets flapping behind him like
wings. Some mischievous mountaineers, seeing him in his bathing suit on
the point of a rock up the river, had joyously taken a pot-shot or two
at him, and the tutor had mounted his horse and fled. But he came as
welcome and as effective as an emissary straight from the God of
Battles, though he came against his will, for his old nag was frantic
and was running away. Men, women and children parted before him, and
gaping mouths widened as he passed. The impulse of the crowd ran faster
than his horse, and even the enraged mountaineers in amazed wonder
sprang out of his way, and, far in the rear, a few privileged ones saw
the frantic horse plunge towards his stable, stop suddenly, and pitch
his mottled rider through the door and mercifully out of sight.
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