The Sport of Our Ancestors 



The Regulator being off, the waiter is again appHed to. 



* What do you charge per mile posting ? ' ' One and six- 

 pence, sir.' ' Bless me ! just double ! Let me see — two 

 hundred miles, at two shillings per mile, postboys, turnpikes, 

 etc., twenty pounds. This will never do. Have you no 

 coach that does not carry luggage on the top ? ' * Oh yes, 

 sir,' replies the waiter, ' we shall have one to-night that is 

 not allowed to carry a band-box on the roof.' ' That 's the 

 coach for me ; pray what do you call it ? ' ' The Quick- 

 silver mail, sir : one of the best out of London — Jack White 

 and Tom Brown, picked coachmen,^ over this ground — Jack 

 White down to-night.' ' Guarded and lighted } ' ' Both, 

 sir ; blunderbuss and pistols in the sword-case ; a lamp 

 each side the coach, and one under the footboard — see to 

 pick up a pin the darkest night of the year.' ' Very fast ? ' 



* Oh no, sir ; just keeps time and that 's all.' ' That 's the 

 coach for me, then,' repeats our hero ; ' and I am sure I 

 shall feel at my ease in it. I suppose it is what used to be 

 called the Old Mercury.' 



Unfortunately, the Devonport (commonly called the 

 Quicksilver) mail is half a mile in the hour faster than most 

 in England, and is, indeed, one of the miracles of the road. 

 Let us, then, picture to ourselves our anti-reformer snugly 

 seated in this mail, on a pitch-dark night in November. It 

 is true she has no luggage on the roof, nor much to incommode 

 her elsewhere ; but she is a mile in the hour faster than the 



1 These men were both on the Quicksilver mail, and both first-rate coach- 

 men, 



198 



