ection makes me shudder. I'd rather fight four duels in three
hours, if I survived the first three, than I'd sit for that time face to
face with a madman.'

'Keep it up, my lord, as you go down-stairs,' whispered Overton, 'your
bill is paid, and your portmanteau in the chaise.' And then he added
aloud, 'Now, waiters, the gentleman's ready.'

At this signal, the waiters crowded round Mr. Alexander Trott. One took
one arm; another, the other; a third, walked before with a candle; the
fourth, behind with another candle; the boots and Mrs. Williamson brought
up the rear; and down-stairs they went: Mr. Alexander Trott expressing
alternately at the very top of his voice either his feigned reluctance to
go, or his unfeigned indignation at being shut up with a madman.

Mr. Overton was waiting at the chaise-door, the boys were ready mounted,
and a few ostlers and stable nondescripts were standing round to witness
the departure of 'the mad gentleman.' Mr. Alexander Trott's foot was on
the step, when he observed (which the dim light had prevented his doing
before) a figure seated in the chaise, closely muffled up in a cloak like
his own.

'Who's that?' he inquired of Overton, in a whisper.

'Hush, hush,' replied the mayor: 'the other party of course.'

'The other party!' exclaimed Trott, with an effort to retreat.

'Yes, yes; you'll soon find that out, before you go far, I should
think--but make a noise, you'll excite suspicion if you whisper to me so
much.'

'I won't go in this chaise!' shouted Mr. Alexander Trott, all his
original fears recurring with tenfold violence. 'I shall be
assassinated--I shall be--'

'Bravo, bravo,' whispered Overton. 'I'll push you in.'

'But I won't go,' exclaimed Mr. Trott. 'Help here, help! They're
carrying me away against my will. This is a plot to murder me.'

'Poor dear!' said Mrs. Williamson again.

'Now, boys, put 'em along,' cried the mayor, pushing Trott in and
slamming the door. 'Off with you, as quick as you can, and stop for
nothing till you come to the next stage--all right!'

'Horses are paid, Tom,' screamed Mrs. Williamson; and away went the
chaise, at the rate of fourteen miles an hour, with Mr. Alexander Trott
and Miss Julia Manners carefully shut up in the inside.

Mr. Alexander Trott remained coiled up in one corner of the chaise, and
his mysterious companion in the other, for the first two or three miles;
Mr. Trott edging more and more into his corner, as