Tooler, without deigning to look behind, retickled the haunches of his leaders, and gleefully chuckled at the idea of how he was making a passenger sweat.
The voice was heard no more, and Tooler, on reaching the top of the hill, pulled up and looked round, but could see no man running.
"Where is he?" inquired Tooler.
"In the ditch!" replied Valentine, throwing his voice behind.
"In the ditch!" exclaimed Tooler. "Blarm me, whereabouts?"
"There," said Valentine.
"Bless my soul!" cried the gentleman in black, who was an exceedingly nervous village clergyman. "The poor person no doubt is fallen down in an absolute state of exhaustion. How very, very wrong of you, coachman, not to stop!"
Tooler, apprehensive of some serious occurrence, got down with the view of dragging the exhausted passenger out of the ditch; but although he ran several hundred yards down the hill, no such person of course could be found.
"Who saw un?" shouted Tooler, as he panted up the hill again.
"I saw nothing," said a passenger behind, "but a boy jumping over the hedge."