My companion
again inserted their heads in the corn-bags, and, leaving the
animals to discuss their corn, returned with me to the dingle,
where we found the kettle boiling. We sat down, and Belle made tea
and did the honours of the meal. The postillion was in high
spirits, ate heartily, and, to Belle's evident satisfaction,
declared that he had never drank better tea in his life, or indeed
any half so good. Breakfast over, he said that he must now go and
harness his horses, as it was high time for him to return to his
inn. Belle gave him her hand and wished him farewell: the
postillion shook her hand warmly, and was advancing close up to
her--for what purpose I cannot say--whereupon Belle, withdrawing
her hand, drew herself up with an air which caused the postillion
to retreat a step or two with an exceedingly sheepish look.
Recovering himself, however, he made a low bow, and proceeded up
the path. I attended him, and helped to harness his horses and put
them to the vehicle; he then shook me by the hand, and taking the
reins and whip, mounted to his seat; ere he drove away he thus
addressed me: "If ever I forget your kindness and that of the
young woman below, dash my buttons. If ever either of you should
enter my inn you may depend upon a warm welcome, the best that can
be set before you, and no expense to either, for I will give both
of you the best of characters to the governor, who is the very best
fellow upon all the road.
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