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The Broad Highway

Chapter 5 THE BAGMAN

Word Count: 1116    |    Released on: 29/11/2017

the driver of which nodded lazily in his seat while his horse, a sorry, jaded animal, plodded wearily up the steep slope of the hil

faced fellow, "what's to do, eh?" and he cove

ve been robbed, and no

elief, and with the color returning to h

bad way; the fellow has left

penc

the thief took to the brushwood, here, not

epeated the fe

ou he has stolen all

pence," sai

es

't to be sneezed at

ng time," said I,

e, what abo

I answered; "she

ed, and, blunderbuss in hand, prepared to a

med?" he inquired,

re he was

k into his seat an

ow?" I

ll bolt again, d'ye see-twice yesterday and once the

me your b

," he replied, s

t?" said I

o be left unarmed on a dangerous road; I never have bee

fellow-traveler-that you will sit there and let the rog

ows at our heels and have this thieving, rascally villain in the twinkling of an-" He stopped suddenly, made a frantic clutch at his blunderbuss, and sat stari

his head at the Bagman, "I've a

ell to the roadwa

n-was it? Damme! I think I

Bagman, in a strange, jerky v

have to drag that fat carkiss of you

t out an

ye to keep a civil t

t mean-any

it." The Bagman obeyed with wonderful celerity, and I heard the pur

; forget you ever had ten guineas and don't go a-riskin' your vallyble young

an, faintly, as I seated myself beside him, "you'l

man, and, picking up the unwieldy

t arter all." Then, turning towards the Bagman: "Drive on, fat-face!" said he, "and sharp's the word." Whereupon the Bagman whi

ed the Bagman, leaving me to follow at my leisure, and running into the tap, forthwith began recounting his loss to all and sundry, so that I soon found we were become the c

, bold as brass, bless you, and a horse-pistol in each hand. 'Hold hard!' says I, and ups

well,"

er; green it was-green as grass, for if ever there was death in a man's face, and sudden death

lf-a-dozen breathles

und upon the ring of intent faces, "why then, gentlemen, being a resolute

ur blunderb

be sur

d it into the

n dubiously, while the

," said I. With which I pushed my way from the circle, and, finding a quiet corner

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The Broad Highway
The Broad Highway
“As I sat of an early summer morning in the shade of a tree, eating fried bacon with a tinker, the thought came to me that I might some day write a book of my own: a book that should treat of the roads and by-roads, of trees, and wind in lonely places, of rapid brooks and lazy streams, of the glory of dawn, the glow of evening, and the purple solitude of night; a book of wayside inns and sequestered taverns; a book of country things and ways and people.”