It was getting hot now, and she was glad enough when the hill became too steep for cycling. She was just fixing her haversack more comfortably, when she heard a frightful clatter behind her. Fifty yards farther up the hill, the road turned sharply to the left. The corner was particularly dangerous, as the woods came right down to the road, and it was impossible to see either in front or behind. Some pigeons fluttered in fright from the tree tops as the noise increased, and Peter pulled her cycle into the left and waited to see the cause of the disturbance. She might have guessed. A huge, grey tank came roaring up the hill, and as it swung towards her to take the corner a young officer, half out of the conning tower, grinned and touched his black beret to her.

The noise had hardly died away at the top of the hill when Peter, still just below the turn in the road, thought she heard a distant shout of alarm. She listened carefully, and then, quite unmistakably, came the sound of clattering hooves.

Peter knew that an experienced rider does not gallop a horse down a metalled road. With horror she realized that the caravan had probably been overtaken by the tank, but even as she slung her bicycle into the hedge and ran forward, she wondered why the horse should bolt down the hill in the direction from which it had come.

It was the caravan.

As she turned the corner, she noticed with relief that the road directly ahead was fairly level, but the scared horse was coming straight towards her at a pace which showed no signs of slackening. The little gipsy girl was standing on the driving seat tugging with all her strength on the reins, while the caravan lurched from one side of the road to the other. Peter knew that if she could not stop it before it got to the corner it would probably overturn.

She did not have time to feel particularly frightened, but as she ran forward she did hope that nothing was coming up the hill behind her. The child was not strong enough to check the runaway. Peter grabbed at the horse's head and as she jumped, she remembered instinctively to try to keep clear of the shafts. Then her arms were nearly jerked out, and her legs swung clear of the ground as her hands gripped the bridle and the horse reared in surprise. Tugging with all her strength she forced the horse's head down and she felt her feet touch the ground again as the caravan swung over to the left and hit the bank.