“But—!”
Just for a moment Amanda looked scared. Then with a queer little laugh she jumped in again.
Amanda was never a coward when there was excitement afoot. “We'll smash!” she cried, by no means woefully.
“Get up beside me,” said Benham speaking in English to the driver but with a gesture that translated him. Power over men radiated from Benham in this angry mood. He took the driver's seat. The little driver ascended and then with a grim calmness that brooked no resistance Benham reached over, took and fastened the apron over their knees to prevent any repetition of the jumping out tactics.
The recovering landlord became voluble in the doorway.
“In Piedimulera pagero,” said Benham over his shoulder and brought the whip across the white outstanding ribs. “Get up!” said Benham.
Amanda gripped the sides of the seat as the carriage started into motion.
He laid the whip on again with such vigour that the horse forgot altogether to shy at the urchin that had scared it before.
“Amanda,” said Benham leaning back. “If we do happen to go over on THAT side, jump out. It's all clear and wide for you. This side won't matter so—”
“MIND!” screamed Amanda and recalled him to his duties. He was off the road and he had narrowly missed an outstanding chestnut true.