The footman's voice was drowned by the vociferation of Elliston from the opposite window.
"Where's Townsend, or any of the constables?"
A constable approached the carriage.
"Why the devil don't you manage better?" roared out Elliston; "why is the road blocked up in this manner?"
"It is not blocked up at all, Mr. Elliston," answered the constable, "it's nothing in the world but the coachman as is so drunk, he can't sit on his box."
"God bless my soul!" said Livius, and then he called out again to his footman to know what was the matter.
The footman either could not or did not choose to explain.
"Get you then on the box and drive us home, Jem," said Livius.
No sooner said than done. Jem, having mounted the box, entreated his fellow servant to give up the reins.
"Touch my honour, touch my life," said the coachman, who absolutely refused to part with the whip.