"Move, and you're a dead man!"
"What's all this stir?" says the coachman in amazement. "Are ye gone out of your wits?"
"No," says he. "But you shall be gone out of yours if you stir, and do not as I wish."
"This gentleman," says I in a mild voice, "has robbed the coach; and 'tis only of his kindness that we get off with our lives."
"You shall cut one of the horses loose and let me have it," said this ridiculous tobyman, "or I will blow out your brains."
"You're welcome to a horse," grumbled the other, still in astonishment; "you're welcome to 'em all, if you can get anywhere from here."
"What is it you mean?" he demanded haughtily.
"Why, we're astray—we're in a drift somewhere towards Liss—the Lord knows where," says t'other.
"Indeed," says I imploringly, "you will not venture your valuable life on such a night."
But he uttered a savage oath, yet appeared perplexed.