like one that mused on some great purpose.  For five he sate with eyes upraised, like one that prayed in sorrow, under some extremity of doubt, for wisdom to guide him towards the better choice.  Then suddenly he rose; stood upright; and, by a sudden strain upon the reins, raising his horse’s forefeet from the ground, he slewed him round on the pivot of his hind legs, so as to plant the little equipage in a position nearly at right angles to ours.  Thus far his condition was not improved; except as a first step had been taken towards the possibility of a second.  If no more were done, nothing was done; for the little carriage still occupied the very centre of our path, though in an altered direction.  Yet even now it may not be too late:  fifteen of the twenty seconds may still be unexhausted; and one almighty bound forward may avail to clear the ground.  Hurry then; hurry! for the flying moments—­they hurry!  Oh hurry, hurry, my brave young man! for the cruel hoofs of our horses—­they also hurry!  Fast are the flying moments, faster are the hoofs of our horses.  Fear not for him, if human energy can suffice:  faithful was he that drove, to his terrific duty; faithful was the horse to his command.  One blow, one impulse given with voice and hand by the stranger, one rush from the horse, one bound as if in the act of rising to a fence, landed the docile creature’s forefeet upon the crown or arching centre of the road.  The larger half of the little equipage had then cleared our over-towering shadow:  that was evident even to my own agitated sight.  But it mattered little that one wreck should float off in safety, if upon the wreck that perished were embarked the human freightage.  The rear part of the carriage—­was that certainly beyond the line of absolute ruin?  What power could answer the question?  Glance of eye, thought of man, wing of angel, which of these had speed enough to sweep between the question and the answer, and divide the one from the other?  Light does not tread upon the steps of light more indivisibly, than did our all-conquering arrival upon the escaping efforts of the gig. That must the young man have felt too plainly.  His back was now turned to us; not by sight could he any longer communicate with the peril; but by the dreadful rattle of our harness, too truly had his ear been instructed—­that all was finished as regarded any further effort of his.  Already in resignation he had rested from his struggle; and perhaps, in his heart he was whispering—­“Father, which art above, do thou finish in heaven what I on earth have attempted.”  We ran past them faster than ever mill-race in our inexorable flight.  Oh, raving of hurricanes that must have sounded in their young ears at the moment of our transit!  Either with the swingle-bar, or with the haunch of our near leader, we had struck the off-wheel of the little gig, which stood rather obliquely and not quite so far advanced as to be accurately parallel with the near wheel.  The blow, from the fury of our passage, resounded terrifically.  I rose in horror, to look upon the ruins we might have caused.  From my elevated station I looked down., and looked back upon the scene, which in a moment told its tale, and wrote all its records on my heart for ever.