Part 51 (1/2)
The lady stopped him; she drew out her purse.
”Here's a sovereign. Now drive us to Pitmuir, and be as quick as you can.”
The man examined the coin as well as he could in such a light; he even tested its quality with his teeth. Drawing a bag from some mysterious receptacle inside his waistcoat, he untied a piece of cord which tied it round the neck, placed the coin carefully within, feeling it to make sure that it was, retied the bag, and returned it to its place. These operations took some time; before they were concluded his two pa.s.sengers were more tired of waiting than he was. Mrs. Lamb mounted to the seat beside the driver. Mr. Luker scrambled into the vehicle itself.
There was nothing for him to do but to squat upon the floor, making himself as comfortable as he could by leaning his back against the side. Then the cart started.
The driver had been perfectly correct in stating that it was not a very good road. So far as could be judged in the mist and the darkness, when one had to rely entirely on the sense of feeling, it consisted for the most part of ruts and ditches. The springs upon which the body of the cart was hung were not very resilient, indeed they were rudimentary. Mrs. Lamb had all she could do to keep on the seat; the gentleman behind was shaken in such a style that he had traversed the whole interior of the vehicle before he had gone two miles. Considering all things, it was perhaps as well that the rate of progress was not more rapid, though the driver had a somewhat disconcerting knack when the road was excruciatingly bad of seeming to move faster than was absolutely necessary, and when it was comparatively smooth of going slower than he need. More than once Mrs. Lamb tried to engage him in conversation, putting questions to him on subjects on which she was particularly anxious to obtain information. She desired to know if Nannie Foreshaw was still in the flesh; how Dr. Twelves was getting on; if he yet practised, and so on. But the man either paid no heed at all, or, if he replied, his answers were of such an unsatisfactory nature, conveying such extremely unflattering allusions, that the lady was finally convinced that she had better remain, however unwillingly, in ignorance than attempt to obtain enlightenment from such an impossible quarter. She would have liked to have taken the fellow suddenly by the shoulders and flung him out of the cart.
He would possibly have found her capable of doing it. More than once she was on the point of making the effort, only an overwhelming consciousness of the greatness of the issue which was at stake restrained her.
At last, after what seemed very much more than an hour's drive, he brought the vehicle to a sudden stop.
”You'll get out here,” he intimated to them curtly.
”Get out?” The lady peered about her through the mist and darkness. ”This is not the house.”
”Yon's Pitmuir.”
”Pitmuir? But I paid you to drive us to the house; I can see no signs of it.”
”You did not. I'd not drive you to the house for a pocketful of money.”
”What fresh trick are you going to try on now? And what tomfoolery are you talking?”
”It's tomfoolery maybe, and maybe it isn't. You said, carry you to Pitmuir, and I've carried you. Do you know they say that Cuthbert Grahame's walking about among the trees, waiting in the avenue, looking for the woman who called herself his wife. Do you think I'll take you to meet him? Not while I've my senses.
If you are set on meeting him, you'll not meet him in my company--that's my last word. Yon's Pitmuir. That's the gate in front, not a dozen yards from where we are--that's nearer than I care for. You'll just both of you get out.”
CHAPTER x.x.xII
AT THE GATE
Verbal discussion was plainly useless; it was soon made sufficiently clear that nothing short of physical force would persuade that driver. Situated as they were it was not easy to see how they could resort to that method of convincing him of the error of his ways. Mrs. Lamb told him, with the lucidity of which under such circ.u.mstances she was past mistress, what she thought of him, and what treatment she would have accorded him if the conditions had only been a little different. In a tongue fight the man proved to be her match; he could pack at least as many disagreeable allusions into a sentence as she could. For ten minutes or a quarter of an hour they wrangled, then the driver delivered himself of an ultimatum.
”I'm not going to stay here all night listening to you. If you won't get down I'll drive you back. Now which is it to be? I'm off!”
”Off! Yes, you are off, as I'll soon show you.”
She showed him there and then. Whirling round on her seat, she gave the driver a sudden push; over he went on to the road.
s.n.a.t.c.hing the reins in one hand, the whip in the other, before he quite knew what had happened, she was urging the horse to pursue its onward career.
”Stop! stop!” he yelled. ”I'm under the wheel! You're driving over me!”
”Then if you don't want me to drive over you, you'll get from under the wheel; I'm going on.”
”Are you? I'll teach you, you----!”
The fellow's language was full-blooded. Scrambling up as best he could, he made a vigorous attempt to board the vehicle and expel her from the seat she had usurped. She was not disposed to yield. Down came the whip upon his head and shoulders. There ensued a lively few moments.
”When you two have quite finished your little conversation perhaps you'll let me know,” groaned Mr. Luker from the rear.