[A LOYAL TRAITOR.]
A STORY OF THE WAR OF 1812 BETWEEN AMERICA AND ENGLAND.
BY JAMES BARNES.
CHAPTER XIV.
A BEGGAR A-HORSEBACK.
I knew, however, that I was in Gloucestershire; and from a sign-post, pointing the way I came the night gone, I learned that I had passed the towns of Thornbery and Slimbridge. I was cogitating over how to get a bit to eat when something happened that put even hunger out of my head—I heard the tooting of a horn! Turning about, I saw the coach coming up a little hill, swinging along at a good pace, with the leaders in a gallop.
The boldest course was the best, so I leaned against a stone post that had cut in it "Eight miles to Hardwick," and waited for the mail to come up. The driver, a ruddy-faced individual in a multitude of cloaks and a wide beaver, caught my intention.
"Are ye off to Gloucester, lad?" he cried, drawing up.