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William Black
This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 492 pages of information about Macleod of Dare.
to hansom cabs, and did not at all like this first experience of them, determined to get out somehow; and so he raised himself a bit, so as to get his back firm against the back of the vehicle; he pulled up his leg until his knee almost touched his mouth; he got the heel of his boot firmly fixed on the top edge of the door:  and then with one forward drive he tore the panel right away from its hinges.  The other was of course flung open at once.  Then he grasped the brass rail outside, steadied himself for a moment, and jumped clear from the cab, lighting on the pavement.  Strange to say, Ogilvie did not follow, though Macleod, as he rushed along to try to get hold of the horse, momentarily expected to see him jump out.  His anxiety was of short duration.  The axle-tree caught on the curb; there was a sudden lurch; and then, with a crash of glass, the cab went right over, throwing down the horse, and pitching the driver into the street.  It was all the work of a few seconds; and another second seemed to suffice to collect a crowd, even in this quiet part of Kensington Gore.  But, after all, very little damage was done, except to the horse, which had cut one of its hocks.  When young Mr. Ogilvie scrambled out and got on to the pavement, instead of being grateful that his life had been spared, he was in a towering passion—­with whom or what he knew not.

“Why didn’t you jump out?” said Macleod to him, after seeing that the cabman was all right.

Ogilvie did not answer; he was looking at his besmeared hands and dishevelled clothes.

“Confound it!” said he; “what’s to be done now?  The house is just round the corner.”

“Let us go in, and they will lend you a clothesbrush.”

“As if I had been fighting a bargee?  No, thank you.  I will go along till I find some tavern, and get myself put to rights.”

And this he did gloomily, Macleod accompanying him.  It was about a quarter of an hour before he had completed his toilet; and then they set out to walk back to Prince’s Gate.  Mr. Ogilvie was in a better humor.

“What a fellow you are to jump, Macleod!” said he.  “If you had cannoned against that policeman you would have killed him.  And you never paid the cabman for destroying the lid of the door; you prized the thing clean off its hinges.  You must have the strength of a giant.”

“But where the people came from—­it was that surprised me,” said Macleod, who seemed to have rather enjoyed the adventure.  “It was like one of our sea-lochs in the Highlands—­you look all round and cannot find any gull anywhere but throw a biscuit into the water, and you will find them appearing from all quarters at once.  As for the door, I forgot that; but I gave the man half a sovereign to console him for his shaking.  Was not that enough?”

“We shall be frightfully late for luncheon,” said Mr. Ogilvie, with some concern.

CHAPTER III.

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