In the meantime, Bertram followed his guide, and was in his turn followed by Dinmont. The shouts of the mob, the trampling of the horses, the dropping pistol-shots, sunk more and more faintly upon their ears; when at the end of the dark lane they found a post-chaise with four horses. "Are you here, in God's name?" said the guide to the postilion who drove the leaders. "Ay, troth am I," answered Jack Jabos, "and I wish I were any gate else." "Open the carriage, then--You, gentlemen, get into it--in a short time you'll be in a place of safety--and (to Bertram) remember your promise to the gipsy wife!" Bertram, resolving to be passive in the hands of a person who had just rendered him such a distinguished piece of service, got into the chaise as directed. Dinmont followed; Wasp, who had kept close by them, sprung in at the same time, and the carriage drove off very fast. "Have a care a' me," said Dinmont, "but this is the queerest thing yet!--Odd, I trust they'll no coup [*Upset.] us--and then what's to come o' Dumple?--I would rather be on his back than in the Deuke's coach, God bless him." Bertram observed, that they could not go at that rapid rate to any great distance without changing horses, and that they might insist upon remaining till daylight at the first inn they stopped at, or at least upon being made acquainted with the purpose and termination of their journey, and Mr. Dinmont might there give directions about his faithful horse, which would probably be safe at the stables where he had left him.--"Aweel, aweel, e'en sae be it for Dandie. --Odd, if we were ance out o' this trindling kist [*Rolling chest.] o' a thing, I am thinking they wad find it hard wark to gar us gang ony gate but where we liked oursells." While he thus spoke, the carriage making a sudden turn, showed them, through the left window, the village at some distance, still widely beaconed by the fire, which, having reached a storehouse wherein spirits were deposited, now rose high into the air, a wavering column of brilliant light. They had not long time to admire this spectacle, for another turn of the road carried them into a close lane between plantations, through which the chaise proceeded in nearly total darkness, but with unabated speed. CHAPTER XLIX. The night drave on wi' sangs and clatter, And aye the ale was growing better. Tam o' Shanter