that Troy fell."

As they spoke they came under overwhelming cliffs that spread
almost like wings above a corner of peculiar peril. Shocked by the
big shadow on the narrow ledge, the horses stirred doubtfully.
The driver leapt to the earth to hold their heads, and they
became ungovernable. One horse reared up to his full height--
the titanic and terrifying height of a horse when he becomes a biped.
It was just enough to alter the equilibrium; the whole coach
heeled over like a ship and crashed through the fringe of bushes
over the cliff. Muscari threw an arm round Ethel, who clung to him,
and shouted aloud. It was for such moments that he lived.

At the moment when the gorgeous mountain walls went round
the poet's head like a purple windmill a thing happened which was
superficially even more startling. The elderly and lethargic banker
sprang erect in the coach and leapt over the precipice before
the tilted vehicle could take him there. In the first flash
it looked as wild as suicide; but in the second it was as sensible as
a safe investment. The Yorkshireman had evidently more promptitude,
as well as more sagacity, than Muscari had given him credit for;
for he landed in a lap of land which might have been specially padded
with turf and clover to receive him. As it happened, indeed,
the whole company were equally lucky, if less dignified in their
form of ejection. Immediately under this abrupt turn of the road
was a grassy and flowery hollow like a sunken meadow; a sort of
green velvet pocket in the long, green, trailing garments of the hills.
Into this they were all tipped or tumbled with little damage,
save that their smallest baggage and even the contents of their pockets
were scattered in the grass around them. The wrecked coach still