He seemed puzzled to decide what I was; I helped him.
"I am the governess." "Ah, the governess!" he repeated; "deuce take me, if I had not forgotten! The governess!" and again my raiment underwent scrutiny.

In two minutes he rose from the stile: his face expressed pain when he tried to move.
"I cannot commission you to fetch help," he said; "but you may help me a little yourself, if you will be so kind." "Yes, sir." "You have not an umbrella that I can use as a stick ?" "No." "Try to get hold of my horse's bridle and lead him to me: you are not afraid ?" I should have been afraid to touch a horse when alone, but when told to do it, I was disposed to obey.

I put down my muff on the stile, and went up to the tall steed; I endeavoured to catch the bridle, but it was a spirited thing, and would not let me come near its head; I made effort on effort, though in vain: meantime, I was mortally afraid of its trampling fore-feet.

The traveller waited and watched for some time, and at last he laughed.
{I was mortally afraid of its trampling forefeet: p107.jpg} "I see," he said, "the mountain will never be brought to Mahomet, so all you can do is to aid Mahomet to go to the mountain; I must beg of you to come here." I came.

"Excuse me," he continued: "necessity compels me to make you useful." He laid a heavy hand on my shoulder, and leaning on me with some stress, limped to his horse.