'Twas striking nine at night
when he started out of London with the reprieve in his pocket, and by
half-past five in the morning he spied Salisbury spire lifting out of
the morning light. There was some hitch here--the first he met--in
getting a relay; but by six he was off again, and passed through
Exeter early in the afternoon. Down came a heavy rain as the evening
drew in, and before he reached Okehampton the roads were like a bog.
Here it was that the anguish began, and of course to Dan'l, who found
himself for the first time in his life sitting in the chaise instead
of in the saddle, 'twas the deuce's own torment to hold himself still,
feel the time slipping away, and not be riding and getting every ounce
out of the beasts: though, even to _his_ eye, the rider in front
was no fool. But at Launceston soon after daybreak he met with a
misfortune indeed. A lot of folks had driven down overnight to
Tregarrick to witness the day's sad doings, and there wasn't a chaise
to be had in the town for love or money.
"What do I want with a chaise?" said Dan'l, for of course he was in
his own country now, and everybody knew him.
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