The Broad Highway - Page 49/374

Now, little by little, I became conscious (how, I cannot define)

that I was the object of a close and persistent scrutiny--that I

was being watched and stared at by some one near by. Shifting my

eyes, therefore, from the mottled face at the coach window, I

cast them swiftly about until they presently met those of one of

the four outside passengers--a tall, roughly-clad man who leaned

far out from the coach roof, watching me intently; and his face

was thin, and very pale, and the eyes which stared into mine

glowed beneath a jagged prominence of brow.

At the time, though I wondered at the man's expression, and the

fixity of his gaze, I paid him no further heed, but turned my

attention back to Mottle-face, who had, by this time, bellowed

himself purple. Howbeit, in due time, the flask having been

replenished and handed to him, he dived back into the recesses

of the coach, jerked up the window, and vanished as suddenly as

he had appeared.

But now the four fresh horses were in and harnessed, capering and

dancing with an ostler at the head of each; the Driver tossed off

his glass of rum and water, cast an eye up at the clouds, remarked:

"Wind, by Gemini!" settled his feet against the dashboard, and

gathered up the reins. And now, too, the Guard appeared, wiping

his lips as he came, who also cast an eye up at the heavens,

remarked: "Dust, by Jingo!" and swung himself up into the rumble.

"All right behind?" sang out the Driver, over his shoulder.

"All right!" sang back the guard.

"Then--let 'em go!" cried the Driver. Whereupon the ostlers

jumped nimbly back, the horses threw up their heads, and danced

undecidedly for a moment, the long whip cracked, hoofs clattered,

sparks flew, and, rumbling and creaking, off went the London Mail

with such a flourish of the horn as woke many a sleepy echo, near

and far. As I turned away, I noticed that there remained but

three outside passengers; the pale-faced man had evidently

alighted, yet, although I glanced round for him, he was nowhere

to be seen.

Hereupon, being in no mind to undergo the operation of having my

eye filled up, and, moreover, finding myself thirsty, I stepped

into the "Tap." And there, sure enough, was the Outside Passenger

staring moodily out of the window, and with an untouched mug of

ale at his elbow. Opposite him sat an old man in a smock frock,

who leaned upon a holly-stick, talking to a very short, fat man

behind the bar, who took my twopence with a smile, smiled as he

drew my ale, and, smiling, watched me drink.