He jumped out of the tilbury.
"What are you saying, my friend?"
"I say that it is a miracle you and your horse did not roll into a ditch by the road-side. Just look."
The wheel was, in fact, seriously damaged. The blow dealt it by the mail-cart had broken two spokes, and almost carried away the axle-tree.
"My good fellow," he said to the ostler, "is there a wheelwright here?"
"Of course, sir."
"Be good enough to go and fetch him."
"He lives close by. Hilloh, Master Bourgaillard."
Master Bourgaillard was standing in his doorway: he examined the wheel, and made a face like a surgeon regarding a broken leg.
"Can you mend this wheel?"