resolute to the last, when his blood was once up, Mauleverer backed one pace, drew his sword, and threw himself into the attitude of a champion well skilled in the use of the instrument he wore.
But that incomparable personage was in a fair way of ascertaining what happiness in the world to come is reserved for a man who has spared no pains to make himself comfortable in this. For the two first and most active robbers having finished the achievement of the horses, now approached Mauleverer, and the taller of them, still indignant at the late peril to his hair, cried out in a Stentorian voice—
"By G—d! you old fool, if you don't throw down your toasting-fork, I'll be the death of you!"
The speaker suited the action to the word, by cocking an immense pistol; Mauleverer stood his ground, but Smoothson retreated, and stumbling against the wheel of the carriage fell backward; the next instant, the second highwayman had possessed himself of the valet's pistols, and, quietly seated on the fallen man's stomach, amused himself by inspecting the contents of the domestic's pockets. Mauleverer was now alone, and his
