"I have been so much on horseback lately," she said, apologizing for
her fears, "and so seldom in a carriage, and this is such a rickety
old thing, that you must excuse my alarm. Besides, I do not know that
Antonio ever played the part of postillion before. Why, the coach will
run over the mules," she exclaimed presently, as it glided down a
steep spot; then springing up and leaning out of the window, she
called out in plaintive Portuguese, "Antonio, my good Antonio, beware
of that short turn in the road, or we will all go tumbling down the
hill together! Excuse my terrors, Colonel L'Isle, but some late
occurrences have shaken my nerves sadly."
Surprised at her unusual timidity, L'Isle tried to calm her fears, and
taking her hand, endeavored to keep it, while he assured her that
every Portuguese peasant was familiar with mules and mountain roads
from boyhood. With a little laugh, she, struggling, rescued the
captured member, saying, "I shall need both my hands to scramble out
with when the coach breaks down or overturns, whichever happens
first," and after this she was more chary of her demonstrations of
terror, to escape his demonstrations of protection.
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