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Hawthorne, Julian, 1846-1934

"Bressant"

From this, however, he
was preserved by the very sudden stoppage of his sleigh, which threw him
on his knees against the dasher, and forcibly knocked his eyes open. He
rolled over to the ground, but, happening to light on his feet, he stood
unsteadily erect, and asked a very tall and powerful man, who was
holding his horse's head, when he was going to let that drop?
Receiving no intelligible answer, he stumbled in the powerful man's
direction, perhaps contemplating the performance of some deed of
desperate valor. Meanwhile the object of his hostility had relinquished
his hold of the horse, and appeared kneeling on the ground, supporting
the form of a woman, dressed in a tasteful white dress, with dark,
disordered hair lying around her colorless face.


CHAPTER XXX.
LOST.

Mr. Reynolds immediately paused, and regarded this group for some
moments with an air of singular sagacity and archness.
"I say, young fellow," ejaculated he, at length, with an evident effort
to attain distinctness of utterance, "that sort of thing won't do, you
know."
Bressant looked up and recognized the rustic bacchanalian for the first
time. He had always had a peculiar antipathy to this young gentleman;
but at this moment it was intensified into a loathing.


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