Mr. Sedley had accompanied the carriage nearly two miles, endeavouring to support a conversation which neither of the ladies took much pains to enliven, when Ella, half provoked with him, cried out:

‘How shabbily you are behaving, Mr. Sedley, to poor Ernest! You certainly did not ride to Ormond Hall to escort us on our road home, but to pay a visit to your friend. Let me advise you not to defer it a moment; for I / see a black and portentous cloud gathering over our heads that threatens us with a deluge. Gallop back, before it pours down.’

‘I will,’ said he, a little confused, ‘I will – but I do not think the weather is so likely to change as you suppose.’

He had scarcely done speaking, when a sudden and loud clap of thunder startled his horse, who rearing and plunging furiously, threw his master – a skilful rider, but at this moment off his guard – against a high bank on the side of the road. The carriage was instantly stopped, and the frightened sisters hastily alighted, and flew to him. He was stunned, and at first unable to speak; but whether materially hurt, neither they nor their servant could tell. Mr. Fitzmaurice was too far in advance to be consulted; and after some deliberation, his wife agreed with Ella that the best plan would be to place him in their carriage, and drive on as quick as possible to the little town of B— which lay in their road, and where surgical / help, if required, might be procured with less delay than by turning back to Ormond Hall. Accordingly, the servant, assisted as well as they were able by the two ladies, removed him to the carriage, placed him as conveniently as was practicable on one of the vacant seats, and the rain now pouring down in torrents, gladly took possession of the other.