This brought right hands to a hearty clasp, and having arranged the plan of procedure, Mr. Hazelwood was glad to find himself early the next morning on the box-seat of the Royal Mail Coach, with thoughts of home and its welcomes warming his heart.
The passengers breakfasted and dined on the way, and the shades of evening were beginning to gather, and tired travellers to feel cold ana cross, when the coachman dashed into a small village where a single oil lamp just lighted distinguished the wayside inn, and four fresh horses stood ready, with men at their heads, to replace the steaming beasts that had gallantly performed their ten mile task.
Speedily went strap and buckle to their proper places, for there was a kind of emulation among the men at the posting-houses on the roads in those days, with regard to the rapidity with which the operation of "changing horses" could be performed; and many a fee from the coach roof rewarded the zeal of the skilled hostler who thus expedited the journey.
The coachman was gathering up the reins, the guard was taking his last survey, when a woman rushed up past the group or gazing idlers.
"Sir, please, Muster Guard!" she cried. "Wull ye do a kindness for a poor body without any pay, just only for the love of God?"
"Well, what is it?" said the guard gruffly. "Profitable business, any way."
"It's only this, sir. Just when you come up to Oak Lodge—that's the doctor's, sir, three mile off, you know,—please blow your horn sharp, and throw it o'er the gate,—this paper, I mean; it's for him to come and see a poor body as I'm afeard is dying. They'll come out and look when they hears the horn."
"Some one belonging to you, good woman?" asked the Squire, bending down from his perch, his quick ear having caught the sound of poverty, and the plea of the love of God.
"No, sir, only in my cottage. My lad found her on the road, faint with tire and hunger, about two hour agone, and he brought her in, and she do seem right done for, and wants to go on, though she can't stand, poor thing, and her money's all gone. You'll drop the letter. Mr. Guard?—And please blow the horn pretty brisk."
"Stay, my good woman, where does she want to go to?" said Mr. Hazelwood. "Guard, there's room inside. Take her, and I'll settle with you."