when he was required might be to establish an inconvenient and
dangerous precedent, he immediately started off again, rattled at a
fast trot to the street corner, wheeled round, came back, and then
stopped of his own accord.

'Oh! you're a precious creatur!' said the man--who didn't venture by
the bye to come out in his true colours until he was safe on the
pavement. 'I wish I had the rewarding of you--I do.'

'What has he been doing?' said Mr Abel, tying a shawl round his neck as
he came down the steps.

'He's enough to fret a man's heart out,' replied the hostler. 'He is
the most wicious rascal--Woa then, will you?'

'He'll never stand still, if you call him names,' said Mr Abel, getting
in, and taking the reins. 'He's a very good fellow if you know how to
manage him. This is the first time he has been out, this long while,
for he has lost his old driver and wouldn't stir for anybody else, till
this morning. The lamps are right, are they? That's well. Be here to
take him to-morrow, if you please. Good night!'

And, after one or two strange plunges, quite of his own invention, the
pony yielded to Mr Abel's mildness, and trotted gently off.

All this time Mr Chuckster had been standing at the door, and the small
servant had been afraid to approach. She had nothing for it now,
therefore, but to run after the chaise, and to call to Mr Abel to stop.
Being out of breath when she came up with it, she was unable to make
him hear. The case was desperate; for the pony was quickening his
pace. The Marchioness hung on behind for a few moments, and, feeling
that she could go no farther, and must soon yield, clambered by a
vigorous effort into the hinder seat, and in so doing lost one of the
shoes for ever.

Mr Abel being in a thoughtful frame of mind, and having quite enough to
do to keep the pony going, went jogging on without looking round:
little dreaming of the strange figure that was close behind him, until
the Marchioness, having in some degree recovered her breath, and the
loss of her shoe, and the novelty of her position, uttered close into
his ear, the words--'I say, Sir'--

He turned his head quickly enough then, and stopping the pony, cried,
with some trepidation, 'God bless me, what is this!'

'Don't be frightened, Sir,' replied the still panting messenger. 'Oh
I've run such a way after you!'

'What do you want with me?' said Mr Abel. 'How did you come here?'

'I got in behind,' replied the Ma