cried the host; and away they went, down the narrow lanes: jolting in and out of the cart-ruts, and bumping up against the hedges on either side, as if they would go to pieces every moment.
"How much are they a-head?" shouted Wardle, as they drove up to the door of the Blue Lion, round which a little crowd had collected, late as it was.
"Not above three-quarters of an hour," was everybody's reply.
"Chaise and four directly!--out with 'em! Put up the gig afterwards."
"Now, boys!" cried the landlord—"chaise and four out —make haste—look alive there!"
Away ran the hostlers, and the boys. The lanterns glimmered, as the men ran to and fro; the horse's hoofs clattered on the uneven paving of the yard; the chaise rumbled as it was drawn out of the coach-house; and all was noise and bustle.
"Now then—is that chaise coming out to-night?" cried Wardle.
"Coming down the yard now, sir," replied the hostler. Out came the chaise—in went the horses—on sprung the boys-in got the travellers.
"Mind-the seven-mile stage in less than half an hour!" shouted Wardle.
"Off with you!"
The boys applied whip and spur, the waiters shouted, the hostlers cheered, and away they went, fast and furiously.
"Pretty situation," thought Mr. Pickwick, when he had had a moment's time for reflection. "Pretty situation for the General Chairman of the Pickwick Club. Damp chaise —strange horses—fifteen miles an hour—and twelve o'clock at night!"
For the first three or four miles, not a word was spoken by either of the gentlemen, each being too much immersed in his own reflections to address any observations to his
