"You have fine words, sir," says she, still very angry. "I am weary of words; I have heard brave words enough to outlast my years. You brag of your sword!" (she puffed her nostrils in a sneer), "had you arrived five minutes sooner, the chance had been yours to show the spirit under your fine coat. I am weary of words. Drive on, a God's name, coachman!"
I glanced about the coach with a smile—though, to say the truth, the wench's tongue nettled me; and "It seems," says I, "that we are a pack of superfluous cravens. Why is there none to fight us? My stomach, I vow, heaves for a highwayman. How stand yours, sirs?"
"Mine, sir, is sinking," says the old gentleman caustically—"sinking for the meal from which you detain us."
"Pray begone, sir!" added Hoity-toity. "As we may not have your valiant aid, no doubt your comfortable bed will provide you bloodless dreams of battle."
There was no limit to the jade's tongue; but I kept myself in control, and merely laughed.
"Why," says I, "it seems I come to the table when the wine is cleared."
"By five minutes," she exclaimed—"by bare five minutes! The hoofs of their horses were not round the corner ere yours was poking its nose through the window."
"I would I had forestalled 'em," says I, with meaning.
The lady paid me no heed, but continued, "I have come from a town where young gentlemen of blood blink not at danger, and to lose five minutes were not to lose the privilege of protecting a lady of birth."
Her sneers made me mad; but "Ha!" says I, "your ladyship lives in a brave town. And what would these young gentlemen do? Sink me, I am so humble that I must go to school under them."