[Gutenberg 47305] • The Imprudence of Prue

The Price Of A Kiss "Stand and deliver!" The words rang out in the gathering darkness of the February evening. The jaded horses, exhausted with dragging a cumbrous chariot through the miry lanes and rugged by-roads of the rough moorland, obeyed the command with promptitude, disregarding the lash of the postboy and the valiant oaths of a couple of serving-men in the rumble. "Keep still, unless you wish me to blow out what you are pleased to consider your brains," said the highwayman. "My pistols have an awkward habit of going off of their own accord when I am not instantly obeyed-so don't provoke them." The postilion became as still as a statue and the footmen, under cover of the self-acting pistols, descended, grumbling but unresisting, yielded up their rusty blunderbusses with a transparent show of reluctance and withdrew to a respectful distance, while the highwayman dismounted, opened the carriage door and throwing the light of a lantern within, revealed the shrinking forms of two women muffled in cloaks and hoods.