The railroad which passed through W—— was only a branch of the main route leading to Charleston, and consequently there were but two passenger trains each way per day; and as Mr. Delafield’s great object now was to reach Charleston before the boat in which Rose was to sail should leave the landing, it seemed impossible for him to wait until night, for not until then was the next train due. Suddenly he remembered that the express train left Augusta about four o’clock P. M. It was now ten, and he could easily reach it in time for the cars, provided there had been no change in the time table. To ascertain² this, therefore, he hastened to the dépôt, where to his dismay he learned that the train left Augusta at two.

 

But with him to will was to do. Flying rather than walking back to his house, he called out Bill, his coachman, startling him with the inquiry³ as to whether it would be possible, with his best horses, a span of beautiful dappled greys, which were valued at a thousand dollars, to drive to Augusta in less than four hours.

 

Besides being naturally lazy and unwilling⁴ for exertion⁵ of any kind, Bill was also remarkably⁶ tender of said greys, who were his pride, and whom he had named Fred and Ferd. On hearing his master’s inquiry, therefore, he looked perfectly⁷ 336aghast, and diving both hands into his matted wool, by way of illustration undoubtedly⁸, replied, “Mighty⁹ tough scratchin’, I can tell you, mars’r. Them ponies¹⁰ hain’t been driv, only what I’ve ex’cized ’em for health, for better’n a month, and to run ’em as I’d hev to run ’em, would kill ’em stone dead. No, mars’r, can’t think on’t for a minit,” and as if this were

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