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- Чарльз Диккенс
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‘
"
What
is
it
,
my
dear
?
"
said
my
uncle
.
‘
"
Will
you
never
love
any
one
but
me
—
never
marry
any
one
beside
?
"
said
the
young
lady
.
‘
My
uncle
swore
a
great
oath
that
he
never
would
marry
anybody
else
,
and
the
young
lady
drew
in
her
head
,
and
pulled
up
the
window
.
He
jumped
upon
the
box
,
squared
his
elbows
,
adjusted
the
ribands
,
seized
the
whip
which
lay
on
the
roof
,
gave
one
flick
to
the
off
leader
,
and
away
went
the
four
long
-
tailed
,
flowing
-
maned
black
horses
,
at
fifteen
good
English
miles
an
hour
,
with
the
old
mail
-
coach
behind
them
.
Whew
!
How
they
tore
along
!
‘
The
noise
behind
grew
louder
.
The
faster
the
old
mail
went
,
the
faster
came
the
pursuers
—
men
,
horses
,
dogs
,
were
leagued
in
the
pursuit
.
The
noise
was
frightful
,
but
,
above
all
,
rose
the
voice
of
the
young
lady
,
urging
my
uncle
on
,
and
shrieking
,
"
Faster
!
Faster
!
"
‘
They
whirled
past
the
dark
trees
,
as
feathers
would
be
swept
before
a
hurricane
.
Houses
,
gates
,
churches
,
haystacks
,
objects
of
every
kind
they
shot
by
,
with
a
velocity
and
noise
like
roaring
waters
suddenly
let
loose
.
But
still
the
noise
of
pursuit
grew
louder
,
and
still
my
uncle
could
hear
the
young
lady
wildly
screaming
,
"
Faster
!
Faster
!
"
‘
My
uncle
plied
whip
and
rein
,
and
the
horses
flew
onward
till
they
were
white
with
foam
;
and
yet
the
noise
behind
increased
;
and
yet
the
young
lady
cried
,
"
Faster
!
Faster
!
"
My
uncle
gave
a
loud
stamp
on
the
boot
in
the
energy
of
the
moment
,
and
—
found
that
it
was
gray
morning
,
and
he
was
sitting
in
the
wheelwright
’
s
yard
,
on
the
box
of
an
old
Edinburgh
mail
,
shivering
with
the
cold
and
wet
and
stamping
his
feet
to
warm
them
!
He
got
down
,
and
looked
eagerly
inside
for
the
beautiful
young
lady
.
Alas
!
There
was
neither
door
nor
seat
to
the
coach
.
It
was
a
mere
shell
‘
Of
course
,
my
uncle
knew
very
well
that
there
was
some
mystery
in
the
matter
,
and
that
everything
had
passed
exactly
as
he
used
to
relate
it
.
He
remained
staunch
to
the
great
oath
he
had
sworn
to
the
beautiful
young
lady
,
refusing
several
eligible
landladies
on
her
account
,
and
dying
a
bachelor
at
last
.
He
always
said
what
a
curious
thing
it
was
that
he
should
have
found
out
,
by
such
a
mere
accident
as
his
clambering
over
the
palings
,
that
the
ghosts
of
mail
-
coaches
and
horses
,
guards
,
coachmen
,
and
passengers
,
were
in
the
habit
of
making
journeys
regularly
every
night
.
He
used
to
add
,
that
he
believed
he
was
the
only
living
person
who
had
ever
been
taken
as
a
passenger
on
one
of
these
excursions
.
And
I
think
he
was
right
,
gentlemen
—
at
least
I
never
heard
of
any
other
.
’
‘
I
wonder
what
these
ghosts
of
mail
-
coaches
carry
in
their
bags
,
’
said
the
landlord
,
who
had
listened
to
the
whole
story
with
profound
attention
.
‘
The
dead
letters
,
of
course
,
’
said
the
bagman
.
