“I am decided, Mr. MacNaghten; I'll not venture; nor will I permit my daughter to risk her life.”
“Neither would I, I should hope,” said MacNaghten; and, although the words were uttered with something of irritation, there was that in the tone that made Polly blush deeply.
“It's too bad, by Jove!” muttered he, half aloud, “when a man has so few things that he really can do, to deny his skill in the one he knows best.”
“I am quite ready, sir,” said Polly, in that tone of determination which she was often accustomed to assume, and against which her father rarely or never disputed.
“There now, Fagan, get up into the rumble. I 'll not ask you to be the coachman. Come, come,—no more opposition; we shall make them impatient if we keep them standing much longer.”
As he spoke, he offered his arm to Polly, who, with a smile,—the first she had deigned to give him,—accepted it, and then, hastily leading her forward, he handed her into the carriage. In an instant MacNaghten was beside her. With the instinct of hot-tempered cattle, they no sooner felt a hand upon the reins than they became eager to move forward, and, while one pawed the ground with impatience, the other, retiring to the very limit of the pole-strap, prepared for a desperate plunge.
“Up with you, Fagan; be quick—be quick!” cried Dan. “It won't do to hold them in. Let them go, lads, or they 'll smash everything!” and the words were hardly out, when, with a tremendous bound, that carried the front wheels off the road, away they went. “Meet us at the other gate,—they 'll show you the way,” cried MacNaghten, as, standing up, he pointed with his whip in the direction he meant. He had no time for more; for all his attention was now needed to the horses, as, each exciting the other, they dashed madly on down the road.
“This comes of keeping them standing,” muttered Dan; “and the scoundrels have curbed them up too tight. You're not afraid, Miss Polly? By Jove, that was a dash,—Kitty showed her heels over the splash-board. Look at that devil Dan,—see how he 's bearing on the pole-piece!—an old trick of his.”
A tremendous cut on his flank now drove him almost furious, and the enraged animal set off at speed.
“We must let them blow themselves, Miss Polly. It all comes of their standing so long. You're not afraid?—Well, then, they may do their worst.”