Emily Goes to Exeter Read Online Free PDF Page A

wife had come over faint, don’t you see, and I could hardly leave her.’
    The aristocrat of the roof did not reply. The guard was unfastening one of the leaders so as to ride to the Half-Way public house between Kensington and Knightsbridge to get help. He roused the watch on the way, and two watchmen came to march the now conscious highwayman off to the nearest roundhouse. The guard returned with a squad of men. All the passengers, who had climbed back into the coach for shelter, were ordered to dismount. The leader was hitched up again, and with a great shoving and pulling, the Exeter Fly was back on the road.
    It was only then that the inside passengers realized the full discomfort of wet and frozen feet. ‘We cannot proceed,’ said Hannah firmly to the coachman. ‘We are all soaked and like to catch the ague.’
    ‘Get as far as the Half-Way house,’ said the aristocrat, ‘and get the ladies a room where they may change into dry clothes.’
    ‘And just who’s giving the orders around here?’ demanded the coachman with heavy sarcasm.
    ‘The man who is about to buy every man jack of you as much rum and hot water as you can drink,’ he replied coolly.
    ‘Now, that’s different,’ said the coachman. ‘Very.’
    At the Half-Way public house, Mrs Seaton, Mrs Bradley and Hannah had their trunks borne upstairs to a bleak room above the pub and began to look out dry clothes. Hannah thanked God she had had the foresight to put another of Mrs Clarence’s cloaks in her capacious trunk. The cloak was of red merino lined with fur. She changed into one of her own black wool gowns and a flannel petticoat, also of her own, wool stockings and half-boots, crammed her beaver on her head, and turned her attention to her two companions. Mrs Seaton had taken more black items of clothing out of a trunk that seemed to contain nothing but black clothes. She was probably much older than she appeared, thought Hannah. In her thirties, perhaps late thirties. Mrs Bradley’s trunk seemed to contain a great deal of foodstuff: a trussed chicken, two jars of jam, a ham, and a large jar of pickles. But somewhere at the bottom she found fresh clothes, or rather a change of clothes, for the smell that arose from her new wardrobe was a powerful mixture of sweat and moth-balls and benzine.
    When they descended to the taproom, it was to find a merry party going on. Edward Smith and Captain Seaton had both been wearing top-boots and had not had to change, but the lawyer, who had been wearing buckled shoes and stockings and who could not be bothered changing his clothes, was sitting huddled by the fire with his shoes stuffed with newspaper on the hearth and his wet stockings hanging over the high fender.
    A glass of rum and hot water was handed to Hannah. She looked at it doubtfully. In thishard-drinking age, servants drank as much as their betters, but not Hannah. But she was still cold and she did not want to fall ill and therefore never be able to have any more adventures. For Hannah, now that the peril of the highwayman was over, felt elated and happy and ready to tackle any frights the journey had to offer. Still, she hesitated. She had never drunk anything stronger than coffee in her life. She had seen too many female servants end up in trouble through a fondness for strong drink. She squinted down her nose at the rum and sniffed it cautiously. She became aware of being watched and looked up. The tall aristocrat was leaning against the corner of the high mantelpiece, scrutinizing her with a look of amusement in his black eyes. ‘Your health, madam,’ he said, raising his own glass.
    ‘Your health, sir,’ echoed Hannah and, screwing up her eyes, she downed the contents of the glass in one go. She gasped and choked and Mrs Bradley slapped her on the back. The rum then settled in Hannah’s stomach and a warm glow began to spread through her thin body. The aristocrat had turned away to speak to the landlord. She studied him curiously.