"I am sure he must feel very bad, and I may save him a great deal of pain, for a man can suffer a great deal in a very short time."

"You are a little philosopher, as well as a hero, and if you are not afraid of Kate, you may do as you wish."

"She seems very gentle now;" and Bobby turned her round, and got into the chaise.

"Be very careful," said the lady.

"I will."

Bobby took the reins, and Kate, true to the promise she had virtually made, started off at a round pace towards the village.

He had not gone more than a quarter of a mile of the distance when he met a wagon containing three men, one of whom was the lady's father. The gestures which he made a.s.sured Bobby he had found the person whom he sought, and he stopped.

"My daughter! Where is she?" gasped the gentleman, as he leaped from the wagon.

"She is safe, sir," replied Bobby, with all the enthusiasm of his warm nature.

"Thank G.o.d!" added the gentleman, devoutly, as he placed himself in the chaise by the side of Bobby.

CHAPTER II

IN WHICH BOBBY BLUSHES SEVERAL TIMES, AND DOES A SUM IN ARITHMETIC

Mr. Bayard, the owner of the horse, and the father of the lady whom Bobby had saved from impending death, was too much agitated to say much, even to the bold youth who had rendered him such a signal service. He could scarcely believe the intelligence which the boy brought him; it seemed too good to be true. He had a.s.sured himself that Ellen--for that was the young lady's name--was killed or dreadfully injured.

Kate was driven at the top of her speed, and in a few moments reached the bridge, where Ellen was awaiting his arrival.

"Here I am, father, alive and unhurt!" cried Ellen, as Mr. Bayard stopped the horse.

"Thank Heaven, my child!" replied the glad father, embracing his daughter. "I was sure you were killed."

"No, father; thanks to this bold youth, I am uninjured."

"I am under very great obligations to you, young man," continued Mr. Bayard, grasping Bobby's hand.

"O, never mind, sir;" and Bobby blushed just as he had blushed when the young lady spoke to him.

"We shall never forget you--shall we, father?" added Ellen.

"No, my child; and I shall endeavor to repay, to some slight extent, our indebtedness to him. But you have not yet told me how you were saved."

"O, I merely stopped the horse; that's all," answered Bobby, modestly.

"Yes, father, but he placed himself right before Kate when she was almost flying over the ground. When I saw him, I was certain that he would lose his life, or be horribly mangled for his boldness,"

interposed Ellen.

"It was a daring deed, young man, to place yourself before an affrighted horse in that manner," said Mr. Bayard.

"I didn't mind it, sir."

"And then he flourished a big club, almost as big as he is himself, in the air, which made Kate pause in her mad career, when my deliverer here grasped her by the bit and held her."

"It was well and bravely done."

"That it was, father; not many men would have been bold enough to do what he did," added Ellen, with enthusiasm.

"Very true; and I feel that I am indebted to him for your safety. What is your name, young man?"

"Robert Bright, sir."

Mr. Bayard took from his pocket several pieces of gold, which he offered to Bobby.

"No, I thank you, sir," replied Bobby, blushing.

"What! as proud as you are bold?"

"I don't like to be paid for doing my duty."

"Bravo! You are a n.o.ble little fellow! But you must take this money, not as a reward for what you have done, but as a testimonial of my grat.i.tude."

"I would rather not, sir."

"Do take it, Robert," added Ellen.

"I don't like to take it. It looks mean to take money for doing one's duty."

"Take it, Robert, to please me;" and the young lady smiled so sweetly that Bobby's resolution began to give way. "Only to please me, Robert."

"I will, to please you; but I don't feel right about it."

"You must not be too proud, Robert," said Mr. Bayard, as he put the gold pieces into his hand.

"I am not proud, sir; only I don't like to be paid for doing my duty."

"Not paid, my young friend. Consider that you have placed me under an obligation to you for life. This money is only an expression of my own and my daughter's feelings. It is but a small sum, but I hope you will permit me to do something more for you, when you need it. You will regard me as your friend as long as you live."

"Thank you, sir."

"When you want any a.s.sistance of any kind, come to me. I live in Boston; here is my business card."

Mr. Bayard handed him a card, on which Bobby read, "F. Bayard & Co., Booksellers and Publishers, No. --, Washington Street, Boston."

"You are very kind, sir."