"I hope not, my lady. The axle is caked with mud on this side, and we do seem stuck in some kind of morass, but if Thomas'll hurry himself..."
The latter, with many more suppressed oaths, had at last got down from his box, and had brought a second lanthorn round to the back of the coach, where Timothy had already started scraping shovelfuls of inky mud from the axle of the off-wheel.
It was at this moment, and when the two men were intent upon their work, that a voice, loud and distinct, suddenly shouted behind them,—
"Stand and deliver!"
Thomas, who was of a timorous disposition, dropped the lanthorn he held, and in his fright knocked over the other which was on the ground. He was a man of peace, and knew from past experience that 'tis safer not to resist these gentlemen of the roads.
When therefore the highwayman's well-known challenge rang out in the night, he threw up both hands in order to testify to his peaceful intentions; but Timothy, who was younger and more audacious, drew a couple of pistols from his belt, and at all hazards fired them off, one after the other, in the direction whence had come the challenge. The next moment he felt a vigorous blow on his wrists and the pistols flew out of his hand.
"Hands up or I shoot!"
Thomas was already on his knees. Timothy, thus disarmed, thought it more prudent to follow suit.
From within the coach could be heard Mistress Betty's shrill and terrified voice,—
"Nay! nay! your ladyship shall not go!" followed by her ladyship's peremptory command,—