Although such a creature of habit that I would far rather have remained in solitary state at the Haycock, I felt it would have been more than churlish to refuse so hospitable an invitation, the only drawback to which was the necessity I foresaw of driving over in “the trap” with young Plumtree. I would have given a good deal to be permitted to order a post-chaise and pair, and go over comfortably, with all the windows up; but it is of no use to struggle with destiny; I saw what was before me, and resolved to confront my fate like a man. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ CHAPTER IX IN THE TRAP “YOU’LL go with _me_, Softly, of course!” observed young Plumtree, otherwise “Jovial Jem,” just as I expected. “There’s a Waterborough ’bus runs right by our lodge-gate: your servant can come over with your traps. Get a greatcoat on, there’s a good fellow, and we’ll start immediately, if not before. A short drain of brandy neat, Miss Lushington, if _you_ please. Look alive, you adorable angel, ministering spirit, I may say. Time’s short, you know, roads woolly, and whipcord scarce.” “But are you sure you can take me?” I interposed, with expostulatory eagerness. “Yours is a smallish carriage, if that was it I saw just now in the yard” (how devoutedly I wished it was not!). “I fear I shall inconvenience you; and, by the by, where is your servant to sit?” I added, grasping vaguely at the last chance of a reprieve. “Servant?” said the Jovial, drinking off his brandy at a gulp, “didn’t bring one; don’t want a ‘shoot’ when I’m driving Crafty Kate. There’s only one gate to open if we go the short way, and it opens _from_ us; so I catch it, you know, on the shaft, and there’s no trouble in getting out. Once the apron’s buttoned, never move till the end of the stage, that’s my principle. Wet t’other eye? Thank you, Miss Lushington. Here’s your health! Now, young man, tell the ostler to get the trap round to the front-door; when I drive a gemman, I likes to take him up _like_ a gemman.” “But if the harness wants altering, or anything?” I urged feebly. “In my crippled state, you know, I can’t get out. Don’t you think, now?—though, of course, I should like the drive very much—don’t you really think it would be better if I were to find my own way over, and you might take a man from here to open the gates and that, who could come back in my return chaise?” “Not a bit of it!” replied the Jovial. “What’s the use of that? I know the mare, and the mare knows me. _You_ won’t have to get out, never fear. Come, though you’ve got a queer wing, there’s nothing amiss with your pipes. Look here, there’s a yard of tin in that basket. You’ll play all the way, and I’ll drive. Take her in a hole shorter, Ben. Here’s a game! hooray!”