"You dog! you confounded lubber! Drive on, or you'll have them out of
sight!" shouted a frank, opened-faced young fellow of some three or four
and twenty, as he leaned out of the front window of a post-chaise, and
urged his post-boy to increase of speed.
"An' how can I get another mile an hour out on such bastes, yer honner?"
said the post-boy in answer. "The crayture I'm riding takes no more
heed of the spur than the grate baste the levvyathan of Howly Scripture;
and as to the blind mare there, the more I larrup her the more she hangs
back out ov the collar."
"Gammon!--nonsense!" cried the young man: "you can catch them if you
like."
"Shure, sor, I'd catch 'em if it was me. The spirit of me's been close
alongside this last quarter of an hour; but the bastes here 'ave got
skins like a rhinosros."
"Half a guinea if you catch them and go by in the next two miles,"
shouted the traveller.
"An why didn't ye spake sooner, sor? It's meself's the boy to get it
out of the bastes if it's to be done at all;" and the effect of the
golden spur was soon visible in the way in which the mire of the
cross-country road flew up from the whirling wheels.
For a couple of hours now, with the present and the preceding post-boy,
had this chase been carried on,--now one chaise, now the other, being to
the fore; the explanation of this being of the simplest character.
Lieutenant Brace Norton, of H.M.S. "Icarus," had just arrived in port,
and was, as he put it, homeward bound after his first voyage with the
rank of lieutenant. In fact, he took so much pride in his epaulette,
won after no end of midshipman's adventures, that, until better sense
prevailed, he had had some thought of wearing it home. He had travelled
as far as the county town by rail, and now, having a rather large idea
of his own importance, was finishing his journey in one of the
post-chaises--scarce things then--left upon the road. At the railway
station he had twice encountered a fair young face, small, dark, oval,
and with a pair of sad-looking, lustrous eyes, their owner leaning upon
the arm of a tall, grey-haired gentleman; and after making his way to
the hotel and ordering his conveyance, spending the time consumed in
getting it ready by smoking a cigar, he was startled, upon going to the
door to lounge about the steps, by seeing the same travellers take their
places in a chaise which had been prepared before his own.
"Do you know who that gentleman is?" he had said to the landlord, who
had bowed his visitors to the door.
"Can't say, sir, I'm sure," was the reply. "Please excuse me, sir--I'm
wanted."
"Here waiter, my chaise; look sharp!" exclaimed the young lieutenant,
slipping a shilling into the man's hand, on seeing the direction the
first chaise had taken. "Hurry them on, there's a good fellow, and tell
them to put in the best pair of horses."
"Best pair's gone, sir, with number one chaise, but I'll get them to
look alive."
In spite of his stamping with impatience, and conducting himself in a
most unreasonable manner, even to going into the yard himself, and
hoisting the sluggish post-boy--a youth of about sixty--into his jacket,
a full quarter of an hour elapsed before the chaise began to rattle out
of the yard with the traveller in it.
"Here--hi! stop!" shouted a voice, as they turned down the main street.
"What the deuce now?" exclaimed the traveller, as the post-boy pulled
up, after nearly running into a flock of sheep, and the waiter came
panting up.
"Please, sir, you ain't paid for the cigar, and sherry and biscuit,"
exclaimed the man, in injured tones.
"Confound it, no!" cried the young man. "And--I say, I haven't got my
portmanteau! There, my man, look sharp, whatever you do!"
Five minutes more elapsed, but at length the bill was paid, the
portmanteau secured to the front, and the crazy vehicle was once more
well under weigh, the young sailor fuming the while with impatience.
But as soon as the town was passed, liberal promises sent the shabby
cattle scuffling along at a pretty good pace; and when the traveller had
about given up all hopes of again seeing the face that had attracted his
attention, the first post-chaise became visible, slowly crawling up one
of the hills about half-way between Lincoln and Marshton, when again
urging on the post-boy, the vehicle was at length overtaken, and whilst
passing it the young man's heart leaped as he again caught sight of the
fair traveller, leaning forward to see who was passing, but withdrawing
instantly upon seeing that she was the object of attention.
Twice did Brace Norton find the opportunities for a short glance at the
now averted face: once during the stages, and again when they changed
horses at Marshton; but now, to his disgust, it seemed that he had been
favoured with worse cattle than before; and in spite of his urging the
fresh post-boy--a native of "Sorrey," as he took an opportunity of
assuring his employer--it seemed that he was to be left entirely at the
rear, to see the face no more.
But the golden spur prevailed; and as the young lieutenant saw that they
were gaining rapidly, he threw himself back, muttering, "What a thing it
is that there are no women at sea! It only wants their presence to make
it perfect. I wonder who those can be, though? On a visit somewhere.
Jove! What luck if it's anywhere near us!"
His reverie was interrupted by the broadly-speaking post-boy yoho-ing to
the one in front, and the next minute they passed the first chaise in an
easy canter; but Brace Norton obtained no view, for, to his great
chagrin, the window on this side--the side occupied by the gentleman--
had the blind drawn down.
"Didn't I do it in style, yer honner?" cried the post-boy, turning in
his saddle to grin.
"Yes--yes; but easy now. Let them pass you." And then to himself the
traveller muttered, "I shall be right next time."
"Is that to be included in the half-guinea, yer honner?" cried the
post-boy, with a leer; but he obtained no answer, save a fierce gesture
not to look back; for now the passing was to be performed by the other
chaise, which in a few moments had again left them behind, while this
time again the susceptible sailor had been doomed to disappointment, for
as the chaise passed, the momentary glance showed him that the lady
occupants head was averted, and that she was talking to her companion.
"But what a neck!" muttered the young man; "and what glorious hair!
What a cluster of braids! Why, she could sit on it, I'd swear, if it
were down. Confound you! will you go on?" he shouted, thrusting his
head from the window. "What are you crawling like that for?"
"Did yer honner want me to be always passing them, widout ever letting
them get first again?" said the post-boy.
"You blundering idiot!" muttered the young man, laughing in spite of
himself. "Drive on, Pat," he said, aloud, "and pass them again."
"Me name's Jeames, yer honner, av ye please," said the post-boy, with
dignity, and for a short distance he drove sulkily on at a very moderate
pace, till the thought that he had not yet obtained the promised
half-guinea prompted him to try and keep his employer in a good temper;
and once more he passed the foremost chaise at a canter, slackening
again in obedience to orders received soon afterwards.
Now every one who has been much upon the road must be fully aware that
there is a feeling existent amply shared by man and horse, which,
however strange the comparison may seem, is fully expressed in the old
saying, that most people like to play first fiddle. Be driving, and
pass the sorriest old jaded brute that was ever verging upon the
cat's-meat barrow, and see if the poor beast does not, for a few
minutes, prick up his ears, and break into a trot to regain his place.
Generally the driver is ready enough to urge him on, and if you slacken
pace for a few minutes, ten to one but you are passed in your turn.
It was so here with the post-boy and horses of the other chaise: to be
passed here on the road again and again by a rival was not to be borne;
and the slackening under Brace Norton's instructions being taken as a
signal of defeat, there soon came a shout from behind to the Irish boy
to draw aside, one which, being rather sulky at having had a mistake
made in his country, the post-boy refused to heed; and just as Brace was
hopefully gazing from his window for another glance, there came the
crash of wheel against wheel, the swerving aside of the horses, and in
less time than it can be written, to Brace Norton's horror, he saw the
vehicle of his companions of the road overturned--the off-wheels in the
ditch, and one horse kicking and plunging in a way that threatened death
to the occupants of the carriage.
Book 2, Chapter II.