She had already stopped the horse, so, giving her aunt's shawl
one last desperate twitch, she slipped out between the wagon
wheels, and darted in the direction of the hated object, the loss
of which had dignified it with a temporary value and importance.

The stiff brown turban rose in the air, then dropped and flew
along the bridge; Rebecca pursued; it danced along and stuck
between two of the railings; Rebecca flew after it, her long
braids floating in the wind.

"Come back"! Come back! Don't leave me alone with the team. I
won't have it! Come back, and leave your hat!"

Miranda had at length extricated herself from the submerging
shawl, but she was so blinded by the wind, and so confused that
she did not measure the financial loss involved in her commands.

Rebecca heard, but her spirit being in arms, she made one more
mad scramble for the vagrant hat, which now seemed possessed with
an evil spirit, for it flew back and forth, and bounded here and
there, like a living thing, finally distinguishing itself by
blowing between the horse's front and hind legs, Rebecca trying
to circumvent it by going around the wagon, and meeting it on the
other side.

It was no use; as she darted from behind the wheels the wind gave
the hat an extra whirl, and scurrying in the opposite direction
it soared above the bridge rail and disappeared into the rapid
water below.