Fortunately the highwaymen had chosen a low bottom between two hills,
to arrest the coach, consequently the road was up a hill of moderate
steepness. The boys hoped that the horses would stop when they got to
the top; but they went on with redoubled speed.

"This is something like going it," Peter said.

"Isn't it, Peter? They know their way, and we ain't lively to meet
anything in the road. They will stop at their stable. At any rate,
it's no use trying to steer them. Here, Rhoda dear, get up; are you
very much frightened?"

Rhoda still lay quite still, and Peter, holding on with difficulty,
for the coach quite rocked with the speed at which they were going,
climbed over to her, and stooped, down. "Shall I help you up, Rhoda?"

"No, please, I would rather stop here till it's all over."

Fortunately the hill, up to the Tillage where they made the change,
was a steep one, and the horses broke into a trot before they reached
the top, and, in another minute drew up at the door of the inn.
The astonishment of the ostlers at seeing the horses covered with
lather, and coachbox tenanted only by two boys, behind whom a little
white face now peered out, was extreme, and they were unable to get
beyond an ejaculation of hallo! expressive of a depth of incredulous
astonishment impossible to be rendered by words.

"Look here," Tom said, with all the composure, and much of the
impudence, which then, as now, characterized the young Etonian, "don't
be staring like a pack of stuck pigs. You had better get the fresh