Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
Our straits were much too dire for our minds to be greatly oppressed
with the morality of things. To us it seemed as though these
travelling valises had come from heaven. Robinson Crusoe on his island
could not have had a devouter thankfulness when he recovered the
articles from the wreck than we had in the contemplation of our
treasure. We experienced an exquisite curiosity as we speculated on
what they might contain. However, we deferred the opening of them,
partly because the time and place would for the present be ill-chosen
(we must put many more miles between us and the enemy before we could
venture to draw rein) and again, because we desired, like a pair of
children, to draw out to the outmost the pains of our delicious
expectation.
CHAPTER XX
DISADVANTAGES OF A CHAISE AND A PAIR OF HORSES
In this rapt condition of mind, and in this remarkable fashion did we
proceed along the road. Through villages and hamlets, past churches
and inns, up hill and down we took our gallant way. The sense of rapid
motion made without the least inconvenience to our own jaded limbs,
coming after hours of arduous travelling by their painful exercise, was
incomparable, unless it be likened to what the soul must feel when
wafted to Elysium on a cloud, after suffering the slow agonies of
death. The exhilaration of our progress was wonderful indeed.
Steaming along the highways in an elegant equipage, the late oppression
fell off our spirits and gaiety came out in us once again. We did not
know whither we were going, to be sure; it was sufficient that we were
fortified with ways and means once more, and that we had so audaciously
contrived to leave our pursuers in the lurch.
"I wonder what are the contents of these boxes," says I, indulging a
delightful speculation as we sped along.
"I suppose we ought not to touch them, whatever they are," says Cynthia
nervously.
"In that case," says I, "we must not open them."
"Oh, I think we might safely do that," says Cynthia in a voice of the
deepest disappointment. "Although they are not ours, that is no
reason, as far as I can see, why we should not have just one peep at
what they are. That will be doing harm to no one, will it?"
"I fear it will be otherwise," says I mischievously. "For if we get so
far as the opening of the boxes I am sure we shall not be content with
a mere inspection of the contents."
"Oh, Jack," says the indignant Cynthia, "how can you talk so. I am
sure you cannot mean to infer that we should be guilty of anything--of
anything we ought not to be guilty of."
"Of appropriating articles that belong to others, for example."
"Yes," says she, "that is what I meant."
"Well," says I, "is there not the melancholy case of our refusing the
highwayman's booty in one form and accepting it in another?"
"That I am sure we did not," says Mistress Virtue. "We did not ask him
to pay our bill."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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