"Look you," said I in another voice. "If you take the horse you will reach nowhere from here, and you will leave five hapless mortal beings to starve of cold. Let 'em get back to the road, and then take your nag."
He was silent for a while, but this argument seemed to appeal to him. "Very well," said he, "I consent. But if there be any sign of treachery I will not hesitate to shoot. Go back to your horses."
At this the coachman, no doubt well enough content to be let off at such a price, shut the door and departed, and presently the stage began to rumble on again, floundering on the hills towards Liss.
Now you may think how I was tickled at this muckworm trying his hand at the road. He was some attorney's clerk or maybe 'prentice, I could have sworn, and he was as fidgety as a cat, seeming not to know what to do, or whom to confront and bully. Moreover, my attitude had put him in a flurry, and the knowledge that we were astray had discomfited him. So he stands with his back at the door, saying nothing, but holding a barker in each fist. But I was not for letting him alone, and says I,—
"You done that very well. I would I had your composure, and I would have been his Majesty's Chief Justice by now, with the hanging of rogues for my business."
At that the old gentleman plucked up spirit enough to venture on a word.
"Alack," he said, "I fear that all those that follow a trade of violence must come by violence to their end." And sighed.
"That's the truth," said I, smacking my leg. "You have spoke truth if you die to-night."
"Silence!" cries this shoddy highwayman nervously.