Prev | Current Page 299 | Next

Stevenson, Robert Louis, 1850-1894

"St. Ives, Being the Adventures of a French Prisoner in England"

I
showed him the king's medallion.
'Take the lady there, and at full gallop,' I cried.
'Right, sir! Mind yourself,' says the postillion.
And before I could have thought it possible, he had turned the
carriage to the rightabout and we were galloping south.
Our outriders were quick to remark and imitate the manoeuvre, and
came flying after us with a vast deal of indiscriminate shouting;
so that the fine, sober picture of a carriage and escort, that we
had presented but a moment back, was transformed in the twinkling
of an eye into the image of a noisy fox-chase. The two postillions
and my own saucy rogue were, of course, disinterested actors in the
comedy; they rode for the mere sport, keeping in a body, their
mouths full of laughter, waving their hats as they came on, and
crying (as the fancy struck them) Tally-ho!' 'Stop, thief!' 'A
highwayman! A highwayman!' It was otherguess work with Bellamy.
That gentleman no sooner observed our change of direction than he
turned his horse with so much violence that the poor animal was
almost cast upon its side, and launched her in immediate and
desperate pursuit. As he approached I saw that his face was deadly
white and that he carried a drawn pistol in his hand. I turned at
once to the poor little bride that was to have been, and now was
not to be; she, upon her side, deserting the other window, turned
as if to meet me.


Pages:
287 288 289 290 291 292 293 294 295 296 297 298 299 300 301 302 303 304 305 306 307 308 309 310 311
no host sprawdz strone no host 906 906