children.
"That's right," agreed her spouse. 'I never wanted to break any of my young 'uns' spirits: I like to see 'em up-and-coming.'
Several of the passengers looked reproachfully at Sir Richard, and, that no doubt of his severity might linger in their minds, Pen subsided into crushed silence, folding her hands on her knees, and casting down her eyes.
Sir Richard saw that he would figure for the rest of the journey as an oppressor, and mentally rehearsed a speech which was destined for Miss Creed's sole edification.
She disarmed him by falling asleep with her cheek against his shoulder. She slept between one stage and the next, and when roused by the coach's halting with its usual lurch, opened her eyes, smiled drowsily up at Sir Richard and murmured: 'I'm glad you came. Are you glad you came?'
'Very. Wake up!' said Sir Richard, wondering what more imprudent remarks might be hovering on her tongue.
She yawned, and straightened herself. An altercation seemed to be in progress between the guard and someone standing in the inn-yard. A farmer, who had boarded the coach at Calne, and was seated beside Pen, said that he thought the trouble was that the would-be passenger was not upon the way-bill.
'Well, he cannot come inside, that is certain!' said the thin woman. 'It is shocking, the way one is crowded already!'
'Where are we?' enquired Pea.
'Chippenham,' responded the farmer. 'That's where the Bath road goes off, see?"
She sat forward to look out of the window. 'Chippenham already? Oh yes, so it is! I know it well.'
Sir Richard cocked an amused eye at her. 'Already?' he murmured.
'Well, I have been asleep, so it seems soon to me. Are you very weary, sir?'
'By no means. I am becoming entirely resigned.'
The new passenger, having apparently settled matters with the guard, at this moment pulled open the door, and tried to climb up into the coach. He was a small, spare man, in a catskin waistcoat, and jean-pantaloons. He had a sharp face, with a pair of twinkling, lashless eyes set deep under sandy brows. His proposed entrance into the coach was resolutely opposed. The thin woman cried out that there was no room; the lawyer's clerk said that the way the Company over-loaded its vehicles was a scandal; and the farmer recommended the newcomer to climb on to the roof.
'There ain't an inch of room up there,' protested the stranger. 'Lord, I don't take up much space! Squeeze up, coves!'
'Full-up! Try the boot!' said the farmer.
'Cast your winkers over me, cull: I don't take up no more room than what a bodkin would!' pleaded the stranger. 'Besides, there's a set of flash young coves on the roof. I'd be mortal afraid to sit with 'em, so I would!'
Sir Richard, casting an experienced eye over the man, mentally wrote him down as one probably better known to the Bow Street Runners than to himself. He was not surprised, however, to hear Miss Creed offering to squeeze up to make room, for he had, by this time, formed a very fair estimate of his charge's warmheartedness.
Pen, edging close to Sir Richard, coaxed the farmer to see for himself that there was room enough for one more passenger. The man in the catskin waistcoat grinned at her, and hopped into the coach. 'Dang me if I didn't think you was a flash cull too!' he said, squeezing himself into the vacant place. 'I'm obliged to ye, young shaver. When coves do Jimmy Yarde a service he don't forget it neither.'
The lawyer, who seemed to have much the same opinion of Mr Yarde as that held by Sir Richard, sniffed, and folded his hands tightly on the box which he held on his knees.
'Lord bless you!' said Mr Yarde, observing this gesture with a tolerant smile, I ain't no boman prig!'
'What's a boman prig?' asked Pen innocently.
'There, now! If you ain't a werry suckling!' said Mr Yarde, almost disconcerted. 'A boman prig, young gentleman, is what I trust you'll never be. It's a cove as ends up in Rumbo—ah, and likely on the Nubbing Cheat afore he's much older!'
Much
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