On the instant the loud rattle and thunder of
cartwheels broke forth again, and now but a short distance up the
lane; also a voice almost as loudly vociferating; and, almost before
Mr. Fett could run back to us, a whole volley of stones flew hurtling
across the road.
"Hi, there! Halt!" My father struck spur and rode forward, in time
to catch at and check the leader of two horses slithering downhill
tandem-fashion before the weight of a heavy cart. "Confound you,
sir! What the devil d'you mean by flinging stones in this manner
across the middle of the King's highway."
The man--he was one of the seamen of the _Gauntlet_--stood up in the
cart upon a load of stones and grinned. In one hand he gripped the
reins, in the other a fistful of flints.
"Your honour's pardon," said he, lifting his forearm and drawing the
back of it across his dripping brow, "but the grey mare for'rad won't
pull, and the whip here won't reach her. I couldn't think upon no
better way."
"You mean to tell me you have been pelting that poor brute all down
the lane?"
"I couldn't think upon no better way," the seaman repeated wistfully,
almost plaintively.
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