For an instant the horse stood still, as if weighing his chances on that
narrow path; but, as there was no turning back now, he was obliged at
last to go on.
Henrietta looked shudderingly down into the chasm below her, over which
she seemed to hang suspended; and she thought to herself, with something
very like a sob: what if we should stumble now!
The thought was scarcely in her mind when one of the horse's hind legs
tripped, and the same instant horse and rider were precipitated into the
abyss.
Henrietta never lost her head during the fall. She noticed everything
that happened during the brief plunge, how the horse struggling
desperately clattered down the mountain-side, how the saddle girth burst
beneath the strain, how for a mere second some bush or shrub arrested
the descent, and how the next instant the weight of the horse tore it
down along with him. Finally, falling still lower and turning right
round on its back the horse got wedged in between two rocks from which
position he was fortunately unable to disengage himself, for had he
fallen any further he would have been dashed to pieces.
Henrietta was quite conscious the whole time. Holding on with both hands
to the roots of a bush with her left leg still in the stirrup (for
saddle and stirrup also remained hanging in the bush) it occurred to her
in this painful situation that she still had time to commend her soul to
God and then face death more calmly.
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