his own wit. He had hardly made them comprehend
the full brilliancy and beauty of his application of
the mountain to their driver, when they reached the
pass itself. The road was barely sufficient to suffer
two carriages to move by each other without
touching, being from necessity dug out of the base
of the mountain; a precipice of many feet led to the
river, which was high and turbulent at the time;
there was no railing nor any protection on the side
next the water--and in endeavouring to avoid the
unprotected side of the road, two wagons had met
a short time before, and one of them lost a wheel
in the encounter--its owner had gone to a distance
for assistance, leaving the vehicle where it had
fallen. The horses of Antonio, unaccustomed to
such a sight, were with some difficulty driven by
the loaded wagon, and when nearly past the object,
took a sudden fright at its top, which was flapping
in the wind. All the skill and exertions of Antonio to
prevent their backing was useless, and carriage and
horses would inevitably have gone off the bank
together, had not Charles, with admirable presence
of mind, opened a door, and springing out, placed a
billet of wood, which had been used as a base for a
lever in lifting the broken wagon, under one of the
wheels. This checked the horses until Antonio had
time to rally them, and, by using the whip with
energy, bring them into the road again. He certainly
showed great dexterity as a coachman. But,
unhappily, the movement of Charles had been