“Yes, Mr. Lorry.”

“What is the matter?”

“A despatch sent after you from over yonder. T. and Co.”

“I know this messenger, guard,” said Mr. Lorry, getting down

into the road, assisted from behind more swiftly than politely by

the other two passengers, who immediately scrambled into the

coach, shut the door, and pulled up the window. “He may come

close; there’s nothing wrong.”

“I hope there ain’t, but can’t make so ’Nation sure of that,” said

the guard, in gruff soliloquy. “Hallo you!”

“Well! And hallo you!” said Jerry, more hoarsely than before.

Charles Dickens ElecBook Classics

“Come on at a footpace! d’ye mind me? And if you’ve got

holsters to that saddle o’ yourn, don’t let me see your hands go

nigh ’em. For I’m a devil at a quick mistake, and when I make one

it takes the form of Lead. So now let’s look at you.”

The figures of a horse and rider came slowly through the

eddying mist, and came to the side of the mail, where the

passenger stood. The rider stopped, and, casting up his eyes at the

guard, handed the passenger a small folded paper. The rider’s

horse was blown, and both horse and rider were covered with

mud, from the hoofs of the horse to the hat of the man.

“Guard!” said the passenger, in a tone of quiet business

confidence.

The watchful guard, with his right hand at the stock of his

raised