"We are going to make an experiment," said Mr. Skinner, laughing. "Farewell! and take care of the house!"
They took their seats in the carriage. Tzifra, who had waited in the hall, jumped up behind, and they drove off.
"This is indeed strange!" said Kenihazy.
"What can a judge do without his clerk?" He returned to the room, where he continued his potations and his song:—
"The man that doesn't love Skinner, sirs,
Haj! Haj! Haj!
Devil take him for a sinner, sirs,
Haj! Haj! Haj!"
At length his voice was lost in sleep, and nothing but the barking of the dogs broke through the deep stillness in and around Mr. Skinner's curia.
That worthy was meanwhile in the act of cursing the coachman's zeal, who, obedient to Mr. Catspaw's instructions, had urged his horses to a mad career; and though Mr. Skinner was very desirous to see Viola hanged, still it struck him that to break his own neck first was not exactly the way to accomplish that purpose. The jolting of the carriage, which brought his head in violent contact with the iron bands of the roof, went a great way to confirm him in his opinion.
"D—n the fellow!" cried he. "Why don't you mind the ruts in the road? Do you think you've got a cartload of sacks? Gently! confound you! gently, I say! I'll knock you on the head next time!"
"Don't be frightened!" said Mr. Catspaw, who suffered as much as his companion. "There is not a better coachman in the county. He's my lady's coachman."
"Better coachman? I protest he's drunk—dead drunk, I say!"