When within a few yards of the white object--which seemed to have fluttered back to one side of the road--his right rein broke: he lost his balance and fell over backward into the bottom of the waggon, while Dolly, quite unrestrained, dashed on madly.
The professor had just made up his mind that he stood very little chance of seeing Abbie or his daughters again, when he felt the onward rush suddenly modified.

There were a pawing and snorting, an irregular jerk or two, and then a dead stop.

The old gentleman picked himself up and descended to the ground uninjured beyond a few slight bruises.
Cornelia and Bressant had been pacing the latter part of their way slowly, there being a disinclination on both their parts to come to the end of it.

But they had passed the bend, and were within a few rods of the Parsonage, before Cornelia pressed her companion's arm, paused, listened, and said: "I think I hear him coming: yes! that's Dolly--but how fast she's going!" As they stood, arm-in-arm, Bressant was between Cornelia and the approaching vehicle: but, when it swung around the corner, she stepped forward, thus bringing her white dress suddenly into view.

At the same moment the velocity of the wagon was much increased, and, as it came upon them, both saw the figure on the seat, easily recognizable as the professor, fall over backward.