"Stop! stop!" he yelled. "I'm under the wheel! You're driving over me!"
"Then if you don't want me to drive over you, you'll get from under the wheel; I'm going on."
"Are you? I'll teach you, you----!"
The fellow's language was full-blooded. Scrambling up as best he could, he made a vigorous attempt to board the vehicle and expel her from the seat she had usurped. She was not disposed to yield. Down came the whip upon his head and shoulders. There ensued a lively few moments.
"When you two have quite finished your little conversation perhaps you'll let me know," groaned Mr. Luker from the rear.
The "little conversation" came to a rapid, and, perhaps on the whole, not surprising termination. The quadruped between the shafts, an animal apparently of the cart-horse kind, was, also apparently, a creature of an extremely patient disposition. But even the most enduring patience has its limits; that horse reached the end of his. Mrs. Lamb and the driver were, between them, tugging at the reins in a fashion to which he was, no doubt, entirely unaccustomed, while the whip-lash, when it missed the driver, occasionally alighted on the animal's flanks. Probably wholly at a loss to understand what was happening, not unreasonably the creature finally made up his mind that he had had enough of it, whatever it was. Suddenly the vehicle was set in motion; both parties persisting in sticking to the reins, and also, in a sense, to each other, the course steered was of the most erratic kind. Before the horse had gone very far there was a lurch which was more ominous than any which had gone before, and they had been pregnant with meaning; the cart was turned clean over; the three persons concerned were thrown out of it. Mr. Luker was the first to give expression to his feelings. Clinging to the side as the thing went over, he had alighted with comparative gentleness on the ground.
"I'm alive," he announced. "I don't know if any one else is."
It seemed that the lady was in the same, so far as it went, satisfactory condition.
"There's not much the matter with me. I'm a bit shaken, and my clothes are all anyhow; my hat's torn right off my head--but that doesn't matter."
"Where's the driver? Driver, where are you?" There was no answer. "That extremely civil gentleman seems disposed to be a little more silent than he was just now. Driver!"