‘How much are they ahead?’ shouted Wardle, as they drove up to the door of the Blue Lion, round which a little crowd had collected, late as it was.
‘Not above three-quarters of an hour,’ was everybody’s reply.
‘Chaise-and-four directly!—out with ‘em! Put up the gig afterwards.’
‘Now, boys!’ cried the landlord—‘chaise-and-four out—make haste—look alive there!’
Away ran the hostlers and the boys. The lanterns glimmered, as the men ran to and fro; the horses’ hoofs clattered on the uneven paving of the yard; the chaise rumbled as it was drawn out of the coach-house; and all was noise and bustle.
‘Now then!—is that chaise coming out to-night?’ cried Wardle.
‘Coming down the yard now, Sir,’ replied the hostler.
Out came the chaise—in went the horses—on sprang the boys—in got the travellers.
‘Mind—the seven-mile stage in less than half an hour!’ shouted Wardle.
‘Off with you!’