“Nothing before, sir; 'cept—leastways—no, nothing before. Ye see, it waits for the coach from Lancaster, and takes on its passengers.”
“John, John,” cried the landlady, who had overheard the conversation from a neighboring window, “mayhap the gentleman would like to take a pair of horses a stage or two an he's in a hurry.”
“Have you a horse that can cover thirty miles to-day?” said Ralph.
“That we have, yer honor, and mair ner ya horse.”
“Where will the coach be at six to-morrow?”
“At Penrith, I reckon,” said the ostler, lifting his cap, and scratching his head with the air of one who was a good deal uncertain alike of his arithmetic and his geography.
“How long do they reckon the whole journey?”
“Twelve hours, I've heeard—that's if nothing hinders; weather, nor the like.”
“Get your horse ready at once, my lad, and then take me to your landlady.”
“You'll not leave me behind, Ralph,” said Sim when Ralph had shut back the casement.