Provoked as he was, Mr. Delafield could not repress a smile at the subterfuges of Bill to spare his horses, but he bade him drive on, saying, however, that he need not drive them at the top of their speed immediately, as they would be more likely to give out, “but after a mile or two,” he continued, “put them through with the whip if necessary.”
“Lor’ mars’r,” answered Bill from the box, without moving an inch, “I never tache them with a whip in de world. Fred would jump clar out of his skin. All dey want to make ’em kill deyselves is a loose rein and a whistle—so.”
Suiting the action to the word, he whistled long and loud, whereupon the horses started forward as if a volley of artillery had been fired at their heels, while mingled with the roll of the wheels, Mr. Delafield heard the distressed Bill, saying. “Whoa, dar, Ferdinand, can’t you whoa when I tell you. Think of the bilin’ water, and keep easy. Come Frederic, you set him a ’xample. That’s a good boy, no ’casion for all dis hurry, if we misses one train we catches another. All de same thing. We ain’t chasin’ a runaway gal’ as I knows of.”
After a little he succeeded in stopping them, and for the next ten or fifteen minutes they proceeded on rather leisurely, and Bill was beginning to think his master had come to his senses, when he was startled with the stern command, “Let them run now as fast as they will. Don’t check them at all until we reach the dépôt.”
Accordingly, for a mile or so the horses rushed on at headlong speed, Bill sympathizing with them deeply and mentally promising himself “to tend ’em mighty keerful to pay for this.”
At last, when he thought it safe to do so, he held them in, taking the precaution, however to say aloud, “Get along dar, Ferd—none your lazy tricks here when mars’r’s in sich a hurry. Can’t you get along dar, I say. An’ you Fred, wake up yer bones to de merits of de case.”
But if in this way he thought to deceive the resolute man inside he was mistaken. Perceiving that their speed was considerably slackened, and hearing Bill loudly reproach the horses for their laziness, Mr. Delafield softly opened the carriage door, and leaning out, learned the cause of the delay. Bolt upright upon the box, with his brawny feet firmly braced against the dash-board so as to give him more power, sat Bill, clutching the reins with might and main, for the horses’ mettle was up and it required his entire strength to keep them from running furiously! All this time, too, the cunning negro kept chiding them for their indolence in moving so slowly!
“Bill,” said Mr. Delafield, sternly, “stop the carriage instantly.”
“Lord a massy, mars’r,” exclaimed the frightened Bill. “You almost skeered me off de box. Ferd won’t get along no how. I tells him and I tells him how you’r in de hurry—don’t you mind how I keeps telling him to get along, I reckons he wants dat t’other half bucket of water.”
“I understand you perfectly,” said Mr. Delafield, alighting from the carriage, and to the utter astonishment of Bill, mounting the box and taking the reins in his own hands. “I understand your tricks, and for the rest of the way I shall drive myself!”