"
"Damn it!" says Dan'l Best and the Prince Regent, both in one breath.
"Hulloa! Be you here still?" says the Prince, turning sharp round at
the sound of Dan'l's voice. "And what be you waiting for?"
"For my brother Hughie's reprieve," says Dan'l.
"Well, but 'tis too late now, anyway," says the Prince.
"I'll bet 'tis not," says Dan'l, "if you'll look slippy and make out
the paper."
"You can't do it. 'Tis over two hundred and fifty miles, and you can't
travel ten miles an hour all the way like the coach."
"It'll reach Tregarrick to-morrow night," says Dan'l, "an' they won't
hang Hughie till seven in the morning. So I've an hour or two to
spare, and being a post-boy myself, I know the ropes."
"Well," says his Royal Highness, "I'm in a very good temper because
of this here glorious storming of St. Sebastian. So I'll wager your
brother's life you don't get there in time to stop the execution."
"Done with you, O King!" says Dan'l, and the reprieve was made out,
quick as lightning.
Well, sir, Dan'l knew the ropes, as he said; and moreover, I reckon
there was a kind of freemasonry among post-boys; and the two together,
taken with his knowledge o' horseflesh, helped him down the road as
never a man was helped before or since.
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