Part 27 (1/2)
”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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.sing 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 pa.s.sed, 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 cl.u.s.ter 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 pa.s.sing 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 pa.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.s 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, p.r.i.c.k 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 pa.s.sed in your turn.
It was so here with the post-boy and horses of the other chaise: to be pa.s.sed 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.
THE WRECK ASh.o.r.e.
”'E've done it now, sor, an' I hope ye're satisfied!” said James, sitting complacently on his saddle, and looking at the plunging horses, his fellow-servant with one leg entangled in the harness, and the havoc made at each plunge of the uppermost beast.
”You scoundrel!” exclaimed Brace, furiously, as he leaped down. ”Why didn't you give more room? Here, come and help!”
”Can't lave me bastes, sor, or they'd take fright, they're so full of sperrit,” said the youth, coolly, as, running to the prostrate chaise, Brace contrived to drag open the door, feeling, as he did so, that he was alone to blame for the accident.
”Here, quick! my child! help her first,” exclaimed the gentleman, but most needlessly, for the young man had neither look nor thought for him, but was striving to lift the insensible and bleeding form of the wounded girl from the wreck. For at the first crash of the overturning chaise the window had been driven in, and one of the splinters of gla.s.s had gashed her temple.
”Good Heavens! what have I done?” muttered Brace, as he succeeded in pa.s.sing his arms round the senseless form, lifted it by main force from the door, and then bore it to the gra.s.s a few yards further on, where, laying it down, he proceeded to press his handkerchief to the wound.
”Let me come, young man,” said a harsh voice at his elbow, and, starting with surprise, Brace saw that the gentleman, till now forgotten, had climbed from the chaise, and now made no scruple in thrusting him aside to take his place.
”What can I do? Had I not better gallop off for a doctor?”
”Thank you, no,” was the cold reply, as the gentleman, for an instant, looked the tenderer of service full in the face. ”This is no scene from a romance, sir. You need trouble yourself no further. My daughter is more frightened than hurt, I dare say.”
”A cold-hearted, unfeeling brute,” muttered Brace to himself, for he was greatly excited, and felt at that moment as if he would have given the world to have been allowed to kneel there and support the inanimate form. For a moment he felt ready to make confession that he had been the cause of the accident, but that he felt would be folly; and once more, heedless of the cold reception his offers met with, he proposed that a doctor should be fetched.
”If I required a medical man, sir,” said the gentleman, ”there is the post-boy, my paid servant, that I could send for one: unless,” he said, tauntingly, ”you, sir, wish to earn something more than my thanks.”
The colour rose to the young man's cheek as he met the cold, glittering eye turned to him for a moment; but he smothered the resentment he could not avoid feeling, and, without a word, turned away to a clear part of the ditch, returning, in a few minutes, with his navy cloth cap half full of water.
The gentleman frowned as he saw this favour forced upon him as he thought, and unwillingly accepting it, he sprinkled the white face, and bathed the forehead, wiping away the ruddy stains, and binding a handkerchief tightly across the wound. But for awhile there were no signs of returning animation, and once more, in spite of the scowl upon the fathers face, Brace Norton hurried away to bring more water.
”There is a faint shade of colour returning now,” exclaimed Brace, eagerly.
”Then perhaps you will have the goodness to retire, sir,” said the gentleman, haughtily. ”My daughter is not accustomed to the society of strangers; and, at such a time, your presence would be a fresh shock.”