The latter gentleman waking up from his half slumber, and very wroth at the manner in which his horses had been stopped, and his box invaded, forthwith consigned Tarleton to a place which it is not needful to name, adding significantly,—
"An' if yer don't git down, I'll mash yer head,—if I don't,—" etc., etc.
"Pshaw! don't you know me?" cried Tarleton, lifting his cap,—"follow the carriage yonder, and I'll make it ten dollars for half an hour's ride."
"Why, it is the colonel!" responded the mollified hackman.—"My team is blowed, colonel, but you're a brick, and here goes! Up Broadway did you say?—let her rip!"
He applied the whip to his wearied horses, and away they dashed, passing Union Square, and entering upper Broadway.
"That the carriage, colonel?" asked the driver, as they heard the sound of wheels in front of them, "that concern as looks blacker than a stack of black cats?"
"It is. Follow it. Do not let the coachman know that we are in pursuit. Follow it carefully, and at a proper distance."
And the hackney coach followed the carriage of the unknown, until they passed from the shadows of the houses into the open country. Some four miles at least from the city hall, the carriage turned from one of the avenues, into a narrow lane, leading among the rocks, over a hill and down toward the North River.
The colonel jumped from the box.
"Wait for me here,—I'll not be long. Drive a little piece up the avenue, so that you will not be noticed, in case this carriage should return. Wait for me, I say,—for every hour I will give you ten dollars."