An
unhappy expression about the corners of his mouth; partly from not
having yet made his dinner, and partly from not having been able to get
on at a greater rate than seven miles an hour. Not that he had any
other cause for haste than an Englishman's usual hurry to get to the
end of a journey; or, to use the regular phrase, "to get on."
After some time the servant returned from the stable with as sour a
look as his master.
"Are the horses ready, John?"
"No, sir - I never saw such a place. There's no getting anything done. I
think your honor had better step into the house and get something to
eat; it will be a long while before we get to Fundy."
"D - n the house - it's a mere trick - I'll not eat anything, just to
spite them," said the Englishman, still more crusty at the prospect of
being so long without his dinner.
"They say your honor's very wrong," said John, "to set off at this late
hour. The road's full of highwaymen."
"Mere tales to get custom."
"The estafette which passed us was stopped by a whole gang," said John,
increasing his emphasis with each additional piece of information.
"I don't believe a word of it."
"They robbed him of his breeches," said John, giving at the same time a
hitch to his own waist-band.
