Maximum-assistance view: every word above everyday vocabulary is explained at every appearance; each name is introduced at its first appearance in the chapter.

CHAPTER II.

The Mail

It was the Dover road that lay, on a Friday night late in November, before the first of the persons with whom this history has business. The Dover road lay, as to him, beyond the Dover mail, as it lumbered (old stored junk) up Shooter’s Hill. He walked up hill in the mire (deep sinking bog) by the side of the mail, as the rest of the passengers (one carried on a journey) did; not because they had the least relish (relish: eager enjoyment — the old sense here) for walking exercise, under the circumstances, but because the hill, and the harness (a horse's working straps), and the mud (wet soft earth), and the mail, were all so heavy, that the horses had three times already come to a stop, besides once drawing the coach across the road, with the mutinous (rising against command; rebellious) intent (fixed purpose) of taking it back to Blackheath (a heath south of London, known for highwaymen). Reins (the strap that guides a horse) and whip (the lash; to beat) and coachman (the driver of a coach) and guard, however, in combination, had read that article of war which forbade (to order not to) a purpose otherwise strongly (with strength) in favour (a kind act; to prefer) of the argument, that some brute (an animal; a beast) animals are endued (endued: gifted with) with Reason; and the team had capitulated (capitulated: made terms for surrender) and returned to their duty.

With drooping (to hang down limply) heads and tremulous (trembling) tails (the rear end), they mashed (a soft boiled mixture) their way through the thick (of great depth through; dense) mud (wet soft earth), floundering (struggling and stumbling) and stumbling (to trip in walking) between whiles, as if they were falling to pieces at the larger joints. As often as the driver rested them and brought them to a stand, with a wary (watchfully careful) “Wo-ho! so-ho-then (a call used to quiet a horse)!” the near leader violently (with violent force) shook (to move quickly to and fro) his head and everything upon it--like an unusually (beyond the usual) emphatic (forceful and insistent) horse, denying (to say no; refuse) that the coach could be got up the hill. Whenever the leader made this rattle (a quick knocking noise), the passenger (one carried on a journey) started, as a nervous (easily shaken) passenger (one carried on a journey) might, and was disturbed (to break the quiet of) in mind.

There was a steaming mist (thin fog) in all the hollows (empty inside; a dip in the ground), and it had roamed (to wander) in its forlornness (lonely misery) up the hill, like an evil spirit, seeking rest and finding none. A clammy (damp and cold) and intensely (strongly) cold mist (thin fog), it made its slow way through the air in ripples (a small wave) that visibly (to the seeing eye) followed and overspread (spread over) one another, as the waves of an unwholesome (unhealthy) sea might do. It was dense (thickly packed) enough to shut out everything from the light of the coach-lamps (lamps fixed to a coach) but these its own workings, and a few yards of road; and the reek (to be full of strong fumes) of the labouring horses steamed into it, as if they had made it all.

Two other passengers (one carried on a journey), besides the one, were plodding (to walk on slowly and heavily) up the hill by the side of the mail. All three were wrapped (to fold a covering around) to the cheekbones (the bone of the cheek) and over the ears (the part of the head used for hearing), and wore jack-boots (heavy boots reaching above the knee). Not one of the three could have said, from anything he saw, what either of the other two was like; and each was hidden under almost as many wrappers (a cloth wrapped round something) from the eyes of the mind, as from the eyes of the body, of his two companions (one who goes about with another). In those days, travellers (one who travels) were very shy (timid) of being confidential (told in trust) on a short notice, for anybody on the road might be a robber (one who robs) or in league with robbers (one who robs). As to the latter, when every posting-house (an inn where fresh horses were kept for travellers) and ale-house (a house where beer is sold) could produce somebody in “the Captain’s” pay, ranging from the landlord (the owner of let land) to the lowest stable (the horses' house; firm) non-descript (of no particular kind), it was the likeliest (more likely; more promising) thing upon the cards. So the guard of the Dover mail thought to himself, that Friday night in November, one thousand seven hundred and seventy-five, lumbering (old stored junk) up Shooter’s Hill, as he stood on his own particular perch (to sit high like a bird) behind the mail, beating his feet, and keeping an eye and a hand on the arm-chest (a chest for holding weapons) before him, where a loaded (bearing a load; charged) blunderbuss (a short gun with a wide mouth) lay at the top of six or eight loaded (bearing a load; charged) horse-pistols (large pistols carried on horseback), deposited (a layer laid down; to put down) on a substratum (an underlying layer) of cutlass (a short curved sword used by sailors).

The Dover mail was in its usual genial (warm and kindly) position that the guard suspected the passengers (one carried on a journey), the passengers (one carried on a journey) suspected one another and the guard, they all suspected everybody else, and the coachman (the driver of a coach) was sure of nothing but the horses; as to which cattle (cows and oxen) he could with a clear conscience (the inner voice of right) have taken his oath (a sworn promise; a curse) on the two Testaments that they were not fit for the journey.

“Wo-ho!” said the coachman (the driver of a coach). “So, then! One more pull and you’re at the top and be damned to you, for I have had trouble enough to get you to it!--Joe!”

“Halloa!” the guard replied.

“What o’clock (the time-keeping machine) do you make it, Joe?”

“Ten minutes, good, past eleven (eleven).”

“My blood!” ejaculated (to burst out suddenly in words) the vexed (annoyed) coachman (the driver of a coach), “and not atop (on top) of Shooter’s yet! Tst! Yah! Get on with you!”

The emphatic (forceful and insistent) horse, cut short by the whip (the lash; to beat) in a most decided negative, made a decided scramble (to climb in haste) for it, and the three other horses followed suit. Once more, the Dover mail struggled on, with the jack-boots (heavy boots reaching above the knee) of its passengers (one carried on a journey) squashing (to press flat) along by its side. They had stopped when the coach stopped, and they kept close company with it. If any one of the three had had the hardihood (bold toughness) to propose (to offer; to offer marriage) to another to walk on a little ahead into the mist (thin fog) and darkness (the absence of light), he would have put himself in a fair way of getting shot instantly (at once) as a highwayman (a mounted robber of the roads).

The last burst (to break open suddenly) carried the mail to the summit (the top) of the hill. The horses stopped to breathe (to draw air) again, and the guard got down to skid (a shoe put under a wheel to slow a cart) the wheel for the descent (a going down; family line), and open the coach-door (the door of the coach) to let the passengers (one carried on a journey) in.

“Tst! Joe!” cried the coachman (the driver of a coach) in a warning voice, looking down from his box.

“What do you say, Tom?”

They both listened.

“I say a horse at a canter (an easy gallop) coming up, Joe.”

“I say a horse at a gallop (to ride at a horse's fastest pace), Tom,” returned the guard, leaving his hold of the door, and mounting (to climb on; a riding horse) nimbly (quickly and lightly) to his place. “Gentlemen (a man of good birth and manners)! In the king’s name, all of you!”

With this hurried (rushed) adjuration (a solemn charge or appeal), he cocked (the male fowl; to set a gun ready) his blunderbuss (a short gun with a wide mouth), and stood on the offensive (insulting; attacking).

The passenger (one carried on a journey) booked by this history, was on the coach-step (the step by which one climbs into a coach), getting in; the two other passengers (one carried on a journey) were close behind him, and about to follow. He remained on the step, half in the coach and half out of; they remained in the road below him. They all looked from the coachman (the driver of a coach) to the guard, and from the guard to the coachman (the driver of a coach), and listened. The coachman (the driver of a coach) looked back and the guard looked back, and even the emphatic (forceful and insistent) leader pricked (to pierce lightly; to raise the ears) up his ears (the part of the head used for hearing) and looked back, without contradicting (to say the opposite).

The stillness (quiet; no movement) consequent (following as a result) on the cessation (a stopping) of the rumbling (a deep rolling noise) and labouring of the coach, added to the stillness (quiet; no movement) of the night, made it very quiet indeed. The panting (breathing in short gasps) of the horses communicated (to make known to) a tremulous (trembling) motion to the coach, as if it were in a state (state: ceremony; pomp — the old sense here) of agitation (troubled excitement). The hearts of the passengers (one carried on a journey) beat loud enough perhaps to be heard; but at any rate, the quiet pause (a brief stop) was audibly (loud enough to hear) expressive (showing feeling) of people out of breath, and holding the breath, and having the pulses (the blood's beat) quickened (to grow faster) by expectation (what one looks for).

The sound of a horse at a gallop (to ride at a horse's fastest pace) came fast and furiously (with raging fury) up the hill.

“So-ho (a quarter of London)!” the guard sang out, as loud as he could roar (a deep loud cry). “Yo there! Stand! I shall fire!”

The pace (a step's length; speed) was suddenly checked, and, with much splashing (throwing up water) and floundering (struggling and stumbling), a man’s voice called from the mist (thin fog), “Is that the Dover mail?”

“Never you mind what it is!” the guard retorted (to answer back sharply). “What are you?”

“Is that the Dover mail?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I want a passenger (one carried on a journey), if it is.”

“What passenger (one carried on a journey)?”

“Mr. Jarvis (the first name of the man of business at Tellson's) Lorry (a man of business at Tellson's Bank).”

Our booked passenger (one carried on a journey) showed in a moment that it was his name. The guard, the coachman (the driver of a coach), and the two other passengers (one carried on a journey) eyed him distrustfully (with distrust).

“Keep where you are,” the guard called to the voice in the mist (thin fog), “because, if I should make a mistake, it could never be set right in your lifetime (the span of a life). Gentleman (a man of good birth and manners) of the name of Lorry answer straight.”

“What is the matter?” asked the passenger (one carried on a journey), then, with mildly (gently) quavering (a trembling of the voice) speech. “Who wants me? Is it Jerry (the first name of the odd job man at Tellson's)?”

(“I don’t like Jerry’s voice, if it is Jerry,” growled (a low angry rumble) the guard to himself. “He’s hoarser (more hoarse) than suits me, is Jerry.”)

“Yes, Mr. Lorry (the man of business at Tellson's Bank).”

“What is the matter?”

“A despatch (to send off; an official message) sent after you from over yonder (over there; the world beyond). T. and Co.”

“I know this messenger (a bearer of messages), guard,” said Mr. Lorry, getting down into the road--assisted (to help) from behind more swiftly (fast) than politely (with good manners) by the other two passengers (one carried on a journey), who immediately scrambled (to climb in haste) into the coach, shut the door, and pulled up the window. “He may come close; there’s nothing wrong.”

“I hope there ain (is not; are not)’t, but I can’t make so ‘Nation sure of that,” said the guard, in gruff (rough and deep of voice) soliloquy (talking to oneself). “Hallo (hello) you!”

“Well! And hallo (hello) you!” said Jerry, more hoarsely (in a rough, husky voice) than before.

“Come on at a footpace (a walking pace)! d’ye mind me? And if you’ve got holsters (a leather case for a pistol) to that saddle (the rider's seat) o’ yourn (yours, said in dialect), don’t let me see your hand go nigh (near — old form) ’em. For I’m a devil (the evil spirit) at a quick mistake, and when I make one it takes the form of Lead (to go in front and guide). So now let’s look at you.”

The figures of a horse and rider (one who rides) came slowly through the eddying (swirling in circles) mist (thin fog), and came to the side of the mail, where the passenger (one carried on a journey) stood. The rider (one who rides) stooped (to bend down), and, casting up his eyes at the guard, handed the passenger (one carried on a journey) a small folded (to bend over on itself) paper. The rider (one who rides)’s horse was blown, and both horse and rider (one who rides) were covered with mud (wet soft earth), from the hoofs (a horse's horny foot) of the horse to the hat of the man.

“Guard!” said the passenger (one carried on a journey), in a tone (a sound's quality; a manner) of quiet business confidence.

The watchful (keeping careful watch) guard, with his right hand at the stock of his raised blunderbuss (a short gun with a wide mouth), his left at the barrel (a wooden cask), and his eye on the horseman (a rider), answered curtly (shortly and bluntly), “Sir.”

“There is nothing to apprehend (to grasp; understand). I belong (to be one's own; to be part of) to Tellson’s Bank (the old London bank at the heart of this story). You must know Tellson’s Bank in London. I am going to Paris on business. A crown to drink. I may read this?”

“If so be as you’re quick, sir.”

He opened it in the light of the coach-lamp (a lamp fixed to a coach) on that side, and read--first to himself and then aloud (out loud): “‘Wait at Dover for Mam’selle (sellers of theater programs).’ It’s not long, you see, guard. Jerry, say that my answer was, RECALLED TO LIFE.”

Jerry started in his saddle (the rider's seat). “That’s a Blazing strange answer, too,” said he, at his hoarsest (with the roughest voice).

“Take that message back, and they will know that I received this, as well as if I wrote. Make the best of your way. Good night.”

With those words the passenger (one carried on a journey) opened the coach-door (the door of the coach) and got in; not at all assisted (to help) by his fellow-passengers (those travelling with us), who had expeditiously (quickly and without waste) secreted (secreted: hidden) their watches and purses (a money bag) in their boots (a high shoe), and were now making a general pretence (a false show) of being asleep (sleeping). With no more definite (clear and fixed) purpose than to escape the hazard (a danger) of originating (to take its beginning) any other kind of action.

The coach lumbered (old stored junk) on again, with heavier wreaths (a woven ring of leaves) of mist (thin fog) closing (bringing to an end) round it as it began the descent (a going down; family line). The guard soon replaced his blunderbuss (a short gun with a wide mouth) in his arm-chest (a chest for holding weapons), and, having looked to the rest of its contents, and having looked to the supplementary (added on) pistols (the small hand gun) that he wore in his belt (a waist band), looked to a smaller chest beneath (under) his seat, in which there were a few smith’s tools, a couple of torches (a burning light carried), and a tinder-box (a box holding what is needed to strike a light). For he was furnished (fitted out with furniture) with that completeness (wholeness) that if the coach-lamps (lamps fixed to a coach) had been blown and stormed out, which did occasionally (now and then) happen, he had only to shut himself up inside, keep the flint (the fire-striking stone) and steel sparks (a fire's flying point) well off the straw (dried grain stalks), and get a light with tolerable (bearable; fairly good) safety and ease (comfort; freedom from effort) (if he were lucky) in five minutes.

“Tom!” softly (gently and quietly) over the coach roof.

“Hallo (hello), Joe.”

“Did you hear the message?”

“I did, Joe.”

“What did you make of it, Tom?”

“Nothing at all, Joe.”

“That’s a coincidence (a chance falling together), too,” the guard mused (to think quietly), “for I made the same of it myself.”

Jerry, left alone in the mist (thin fog) and darkness (the absence of light), dismounted (to get off a horse) meanwhile (in the time between), not only to ease (comfort; freedom from effort) his spent horse, but to wipe (to rub clean) the mud (wet soft earth) from his face, and shake (to move quickly to and fro) the wet out of his hat-brim (the brim of a hat), which might be capable of holding about half a gallon (a large measure of liquid). After standing with the bridle (a horse's head straps) over his heavily-splashed (much marked with splashes) arm, until the wheels of the mail were no longer within hearing and the night was quite still again, he turned to walk down the hill.

“After that there gallop (to ride at a horse's fastest pace) from Temple Bar (the old gateway between the City of London and Westminster), old lady, I won’t trust your fore-legs (the front legs of an animal) till I get you on the level,” said this hoarse (rough and husky of voice) messenger (a bearer of messages), glancing (a quick look) at his mare (a female horse). “‘Recalled to life.’ That’s a Blazing strange message. Much of that wouldn (would — wouldn't: would not)’t do for you, Jerry! I say, Jerry! You’d be in a Blazing bad way, if recalling (to bring back to mind; also to call back) to life was to come into fashion, Jerry!”