"Egad, they're in somebody's!" I cried. "Their postilions are shouting
to ours to stop."

"Never mind those fellows' holloing," called Philip to our riders.
"'Tis a wager--and I'll double that crown apiece."

We bowled over the road in a way to make me think of Apollo's chariot
and the horses of Phaeton; but we lengthened not a rod the stretch
betwixt us and our followers, though we nullified their efforts to
diminish it. We could make out, more by sight than by hearing--for we
kept looking back, our heads thrust out at either side--that the
pursuing post-boys continued bawling vehemently at ours. What they
said, was drowned by the clatter of horses and wheels.

"Well, they have seen we are two men," said Philip, "and still they
keep up the race. They certainly must want us. Were they merely in a
hurry to reach Hastings, they could do that the sooner by sparing
their horses--this is a killing pace."

"Then we're in a serious plight," said I. "Though we may beat 'em to
Hastings, they will catch us there."

"Unless we can gain a quarter of an hour's start, and, by one chance
in twenty, find the Doughty boys ashore, and their boat in harbour."

"Ay, there's one chance in twenty, maybe," I growled, looking gloomily
back, and wishing I might see the pursuing chaise upset, or one of its
horses stumble.

There is an old proverb about evil wishes rebounding to strike the
sender; and a recollection of this was my paramount thought a moment
later: for at a sharp turn our chaise suddenly seemed to leap into the
air and alight on one wheel, and then turned over sidewise with what
appeared to be a solemn deliberation, piling me upon Philip in a heap.
We felt the conveyance dragged some yards along the road, and then it
came to a stop. A moment later we heard the postilions cursing the
horses, and then we clambered out of the upper side of the chaise, and
leaped into the road. We had been knocked, shaken, and bruised, but
were not seriously hurt.

"Here's the devil to pay," cried the older postilion excitedly,
turning his attention from the trembling horses to the wrecked
vehicle.

"We will pay--but you will let us ride your horses the rest of the
way?" asked Phil, quietly, rather as a matter of form than with any
hope of success.

"No, sir!" roared the man. "Bean't there damage enough? Just look--"

"Tut, man," said Phil, examining the chaise, "a guinea will mend
all--and there it is, and your extra crowns, too, thou