'Yes,' said Frank, laughing; 'I dare say we might ride to the Squire's and back again in his chaise, before the sermon was ended; and the old horse would like it better, than standing here in the sun.'
'It is rather provoking,' said Gardiner; 'that as there is so much shade, he could not be put in it.'
'I make no doubt he was,' replied Frank; 'when the parson first stopped; but probably the sun has moved on to another place, since that time.'
'That is a good thought of yours, Frank,' said Gardiner; 'come get in, I will take all the risk, and pay all damages. It would be a lucky hit for his reverence, if we broke the vehicle, and had to get a new one.'
'More lucky for him than for us,' said Frank, who had his foot on the step, ready to get in; 'second thoughts are best; no, we had better not.'
'There is your ridiculous particularity; I don't believe there is another boy in the school, would refuse.—If the parson should come out, and find the horse had walked off, he would only go back and make the old ladies another sermon, which would be so much the more for the good of their souls.'
Frank's good genius prevailed; his talisman rose up to his thoughts like a guardian angel, and he said, 'it will be safest not to go.'
'Well, I will not be baulked of the ride,' said William,—'Lawrence says, that I once took the lead in every thing; but that now I am no better than your shadow; and that you govern me entirely; so I will go, if it is only to tell him, I have acted once for myself.'
'I will walk on with the letter,' said Frank, 'and shall probably meet you on my return.'