He uttered an involuntary exclamation, and called to the driver, who brought his horses to a stop with all speed.
It could hardly have been as he supposed, for although he had not taken his eyes off his companion, and had not seen him move, he sat reclining in his corner as before.
‘What’s the matter?’ said Jonas. ‘Is that your general way of waking out of your sleep?’
‘I could swear,’ returned the other, ‘that I have not closed my eyes!’
‘When you have sworn it,’ said Jonas, composedly, ‘we had better go on again, if you have only stopped for that.’
He uncorked the bottle with the help of his teeth; and putting it to his lips, took a long draught.
‘I wish we had never started on this journey. This is not,’ said Montague, recoiling instinctively, and speaking in a voice that betrayed his agitation; ‘this is not a night to travel in.’
‘Ecod! you’re right there,’ returned Jonas, ‘and we shouldn’t be out in it but for you. If you hadn’t kept me waiting all day, we might have been at Salisbury by this time; snug abed and fast asleep. What are we stopping for?’
His companion put his head out of window for a moment, and drawing it in again, observed (as if that were his cause of anxiety), that the boy was drenched to the skin.
‘Serve him right,’ said Jonas. ‘I’m glad of it. What the devil are we stopping for? Are you going to spread him out to dry?’