“Why, certainly. You won’t be gone long, I suppose?”
“Oh, no ma’am. We’ll just drive around the square.”
The “square” was a stretch of country road some two miles in length.
James unhitched the horses and mounted the driver’s seat, but Minerva sprawled luxuriously in the seat in which she had sung. James tightened the reins and the horses started off at what is called a spanking pace by those who know.
What happened thereafter was told me in part by James, and I will give the substance of it.
It seems that he had not gone very far when he met John, the driver.
Naturally enough, when John saw his mistress’s horses coming toward him at a pace considerably above that indulged in by himself (when he was driving for her), he was at first dumbfounded and then angered. To him what had occurred was as plain as the nose on his face. Mrs. Guernsea had been asked into the house by us, and this impudent scamp had seized the opportunity to take his girl out for a ride.
“Here, stop. Get out of that!” he yelled.
James replied by some piece of impertinence that served to increase the coachman’s anger, and picking up a stone he let drive at James, but hit the flank of the nigh horse instead. He, feeling the unwonted sting, plunged forward, communicated his fear to his mate, and the two horses began to run away.
We at the house heard Minerva’s familiar screams, but I set it down to a new animal that had come to her ken, as I knew that James was a capable driver.