Meanwhile its box was treated after the manner of parcels, and put safely into one of the mail-bags.
As the mass of letters began to diminish in bulk the snake began to feel uncomfortably exposed. At the same time Miss Lillycrop, with that wicked delight in evil prophecy which is peculiar to mankind, began to feel comfortably exultant.
“You see I was right!” she said to her guide, glancing at the clock, which now indicated ten minutes to eight; “the confusion is almost as great as ever.”
“We shall see,” replied Mr Bright, quietly, as he led the way back to the gallery.
From this point it could be seen, even by unpractised eyes, that, although the confusion of letters all over the place was still considerable, there were huge gaps on the sorting-tables everywhere, while the facing-tables were of course empty. There was a push and energy also which had not prevailed at first. Men seemed as though they really were in considerable haste. Letters were being bundled up and tied with string and thrust into bags, and the bags sealed with a degree of celerity that transfixed Miss Lillycrop and silenced her. A few minutes more and the tables were cleared. Another minute, and the bags were being carried out. Thirty red vans outside gaped to receive them. Eight o’clock struck, whips cracked, wheels rattled, the eight o’clock mail was gone, and there was not a single letter left in the great sorting-room of St. Martin’s-le-Grand!
“I was right, you see,” said Mr Bright.
“You were right,” responded Miss Lillycrop.
They descended and crossed the now unencumbered floor. The snake took it into its mottled head at that moment to do the same. Miss Lillycrop saw it, shrieked, sprang to get out of its way, fell, and sprained her ankle!
There was a rush of sorters, letter-carriers, boy-sorters, and messengers; the snake was captured, and Miss Lillycrop was tenderly borne from the General Post-Office in a state of mental amazement and physical collapse.