here have these nincompoops spilt us in the ditch and smashed the chaise!"
"Very provoking," said I.
"I don't know when I've been so provoked!" cried he, with a glance down the road of mortal terror.
"The father is no doubt very much incensed?" I pursued, civilly.
"God!" cried the hawbuck. "In short, you see, we must get out of this. And I'll tell you what—it may seem cool, but necessity has no law—if you would lend us your chaise to the next post-house, it would be the very thing, sir."
"I confess it seems cool," I replied.
"What's that you say, sir?" he snapped.
"I was agreeing with you," said I. "Yes, it does seem cool; and what is more to the point, it seems unnecessary. This thing can be arranged in a more satisfactory manner otherwise, I think. You can doubtless ride?"
This opened a door on the matter of their previous dispute, and the fellow appeared life-sized in his true colours. "That's what I've been telling her: that, damn her! she must ride!" he broke out. "And if the gentleman's of the same mind, why, damme, you shall!"
As he said so, he made a snatch at her wrist, which she evaded with horror.
I stepped between them.
"No, sir," said I, "the lady shall not."
He turned on me raging. "And who are you to interfere?" he roared.
"There is here no question of who I am," I replied. "I may be the devil or the Archbishop of Canterbury for what you know, or need know. The point is that I can help you—it appears that nobody else can; and I will tell you how I propose to do it. I will give the lady a seat in my
