"Yes, dangerously so." And, putting his head out of the window, he called to the driver, mildly requesting him to slacken his speed.
The reply was a volley of oaths and curses, while the whip was applied to the horses in a way that made them rear and plunge frightfully.
They had been toiling up a steep ascent, and now were skirting the mountain side, a high wall of rock on the one hand, a sheer descent of many hundred feet on the other.
Blake glanced from the window with a shudder, and turning a ghastly face upon the others, "We shall be hurled into eternity in another minute," he said, in a hoarse whisper.
Then voice after voice was raised, calling to the driver in expostulation, warning, entreaty.
"You are risking your own life as well as ours," cried one.
"I tell you I don't care!" he shouted back, with a fearful oath; "we're behind time, and I'll lose my place if I don't make it up. I'll get you to C—— by half-past five, or land you in h—ll, I don't care which."
"O my children, my poor little children!" cried the mother, clasping her babe closer to her breast and bursting into tears. Then, in a sort of desperation, she thrust her head out of the window and shrieked to the man, "For the love of Heaven, driver, have mercy on my poor babes!"
The man was probably a father, for that appeal reached his heart, hardened as it was: there was instantly a very sensible diminution of their fearful velocity, though the stage still rolled on at a dangerously rapid rate; keeping them all in terror until at length it drew up before the door of a tavern; where they were to halt for their supper.
The gentlemen made haste to alight. Mr. Lord handed out Mildred, then the mother and her children.