What! What! What! my dear.
He pulled the string—What need to have come this way? said he—But since we are, I will but ask a question—My dearest life, why this apprehension?
The coachman stopped: his servant, who, with one of her’s was behind, alighted—Ask, said he, if I have any letters? Who knows, my dearest creature, turning to me, but we may already have one from the Captain?—We will not go out of the coach!—Fear nothing—Why so apprehensive?—Oh! these fine spirits!—cried the execrable insulter.
Dreadfully did my heart then misgive me: I was ready to faint. Why this terror, my life? you shall not stir out of the coach but one question, now the fellow has drove us this way.
Your lady will faint, cried the execrable Lady Betty, turning to him—My dearest Niece! (niece I will call you, taking my hand)—we must alight, if you are so ill.—Let us alight—only for a glass of water and hartshorn—indeed we must alight.
No, no, no—I am well—quite well—Won’t the man drive on?—I am well—quite well—indeed I am.—Man, drive on, putting my head out of the coach—Man, drive on!—though my voice was too low to be heard.
The coach stopt at the door. How I trembled!
Dorcas came to the door, on its stopping.
My dearest creature, said the vile man, gasping, as it were for breath, you shall not alight—Any letters for me, Dorcas?
There are two, Sir. And here is a gentleman, Mr. Belton, Sir, waits for your honour; and has done so above an hour.