all Tom's representations of the impossibility
of my being in time, had despatched waiters in different directions for a
jarvey, more than ever determined upon going; so often is it that when
real reasons for our conduct are wanting, any casual or chance opposition
confirms us in an intention which before was but uncertain. Seeing me so
resolved, Tom, at length, gave way, and advised my pursuing the mail,
which must be now gone at least ten minutes, and which, with smart
driving, I should probably overtake before getting free of the city, as
they have usually many delays in so doing. I at once ordered out the
"yellow post-chaise," and before many minutes had elapsed, what, with
imprecation and bribery, I started in pursuit of his Majesty's Cork and
Kilkenny mail coach, then patiently waiting in the court-yard of the Post
Office.

"Which way now, your honor?" said a shrill voice from the dark--for such
the night had already become, and threatened with a few heavy drops of
straight rain, the fall of a tremendous shower.

"The Naas road," said I; "and, harkye, my fine fellow, if you overtake
the coach in half an hour, I'll double your fare."

"Be gorra, I'll do my endayvour," said the youth; at the same time
instant dashing in both spurs, we rattled down Nassau-street at a very
respectable pace for harriers. Street after street we passed, and at
last I perceived we had got clear of the city, and were leaving the long
line of lamp-lights behind us. The night was now pitch dark. I could
not see any thing whatever. The quick clattering of the wheels, the
sharp crack of the postillion's whip, or the still sharper tone of his
"gee hup," showed me we were going at a tremendous pace, had I not even
had the experience afforded by the frequent visits my head paid to the
roof of the chaise, so often as we bounded over a stone, or splashed
through a hollow. Dark and gloomy as it was, I constantly let down the
window, and with half my body protruded, endeavores to catch a glimpse of
the "Chase;" but nothing could I see. The rain now fell in actual
torrents; and a more miserable night it is impossible to conceive.

After about an hour so spent, he at last came to a check, so sudden and
unexpected on my part, that I was nearly precipitated, harlequin fashion,
through the front window. Perceiving that we no longer moved, and
suspecting that some part of our tackle had given way, I let down the
sash, and cried out--"Well now,