"Dear heart!" cries the lady, and I saw miss whitening under the bloom she had took of the cold air.
"'Tis a pity," said I, "that simpletons talk of what they know not. 'Tis the safest road in the kingdom."
"Oh," says he with an air, "I would not discompose anyone. 'Tis best you should keep up your spirits." And he drank of his wine, whistling gently, and as one who is superior to circumstance and the rest of the company.
If he had not been so grotesque an ape I would have said something more, but as it was I had not the heart to overwhelm him in miss's presence. So said I good-humouredly, "Well, call me when there is danger, and I will see if I can spy it out of two spectacles."
I gave miss a jorum of mulled wine, and I plied her mother, who would eat anything. Never did I see a woman with such an appetite. But the old gentleman took little or nothing, and only sipped his glass, being clearly in an anxious state.
"I was promised we should lie at Petersfield to-night," he said in a plaintive way, "for I have business in Portsmouth to-morrow."
"Oh, you shall lie there safe and warm," said I, "and madam and miss, too, in as snug blankets as any in the realm, or call me hangman."
I got up and walked to the window. The black night stared back at me with ominous eyes. Thinks I to myself that we must be hauling out at once if my words were to come true; for there was snow in the sky like lead. I turned about, and under the candles saw the man in black guttling his wine as if he were in a haste to feel its temper in his stomach. He had drunk one bottle and the better part of another. I called out to the innkeeper, bidding him ask if we were to stay there all night, for, if not, we had better be gone. And that seemed to affect the coachman, for in a little news was come that we were to start. The last I saw of the table was the figure of the man in black drinking his second bottle to the dregs.
No sooner were we set in the stage again than the storm began. The wind swept over the heights and rained on us a deadly flurry of snow. It battered against the windows and penetrated even to the recesses of the interior. But we were warm with our wine, and I, for one, lay back with contentment, with one eye open on miss (who was conscious of my stare, and fidgeted under it), and t'other on nothingness. The old lady went off to sleep forthwith with the food she had taken, and trumpeted at times to the chagrin of her daughter. But what's a snore? At least it interfered not with me, and presently miss had slipped from me, and I was at rest like any child. The coach rocked in my dreams, and then there was a cry, and presently after I opened my eyes with the feeling that the snow was on my temples.
'Twas not that, however, but the barrel of a pistol that the man in black held.