| 685 | 686 | 687 | 688 | 689 |
| 1 | 198 | 396 | 594 | 792 |
|
'
‘What is it, my dear?’ said my uncle, looking in at the coach window.
The lady happened to bend forward at the same time, and my uncle
thought she looked more beautiful than she had done yet. He was very
close to her just then, gentlemen, so he really ought to know.
'‘What is it, my dear?’ said my uncle.
'
‘Will you never love any one but me - never marry any one beside?’
said the young lady.
'My uncle swore a great oath that he never would marry anybody else,
and the young lady drew in her head, and pulled up the window. He
jumped upon the box, squared his elbows, adjusted the ribands,
seized the whip which lay on the roof, gave one flick to the off leader,
and away went the four long-tailed, flowing-maned black horses, at
fifteen good English miles an hour, with the old mail-coach behind
them. Whew! How they tore along!
'
The noise behind grew louder. The faster the old mail went, the faster
came the pursuers - men, horses, dogs, were leagued in the pursuit.
The noise was frightful, but, above all, rose the voice of the young
lady, urging my uncle on, and shrieking, ‘Faster! Faster!’
'They whirled past the dark trees, as feathers would be swept before a
hurricane. Houses, gates, churches, haystacks, objects of every kind
they shot by, with a velocity and noise like roaring waters suddenly let
loose. But still the noise of pursuit grew louder, and still my uncle
could hear the young lady wildly screaming, ‘Faster! Faster!’
'
My uncle plied whip and rein, and the horses flew onward till they
were white with foam; and yet the noise behind increased; and yet the
young lady cried, ‘Faster! Faster!’ My uncle gave a loud stamp on the
boot in the energy of the moment, and - found that it was gray
morning, and he was sitting in the wheelwright's yard, on the box of
an old Edinburgh mail, shivering with the cold and wet and stamping
his feet to warm them! He got down, and looked eagerly inside for the
beautiful young lady. Alas! There was neither door nor seat to the
coach. It was a mere shell.
'
Of course, my uncle knew very well that there was some mystery in
the matter, and that everything had passed exactly as he used to
relate it. He remained staunch to the great oath he had sworn to the
beautiful young lady, refusing several eligible landladies on her
account, and dying a bachelor at last. He always said what a curious
thing it was that he should have found out, by such a mere accident
as his clambering over the palings, that the ghosts of mail-coaches
and horses, guards, coachmen, and passengers, were in the habit of
making journeys regularly every night. He used to add, that he
Page
Quick Jump
|