The Inn of the Hawk and Raven

"Good Lawd--wha--what fo' Miss Bev'ly--"

"Sh! Don't call me Miss Bev'ly. Now, just you pay 'tention to me and
I'll tell you something queer. Get my revolver right away, and don't let
those men see what you are doing." While Aunt Fanny's trembling fingers
went in search of the firearm, Beverly outlined the situation briefly
but explicitly. The old woman was not slow to understand. Her wits
sharpened by fear, she grasped Beverly's instructions with astonishing
avidity.

"Ve'y well, yo' highness," she said with fine reverence, "Ah'll p'ocuah
de bottle o' pepp'mint fo' yo' if yo' jes don' mine me pullin' an'
haulin' 'mongst dese boxes. Mebbe yo' all 'druther hab de gingeh?" With
this wonderful subterfuge as a shield she dug slyly into one of the bags
and pulled forth a revolver. Under ordinary circumstances she would have
been mortally afraid to touch it, but not so in this emergency. Beverly
shoved the weapon into the pocket of her gray traveling jacket.

"I feel much better now, Aunt Fanny," she said, and Aunt Fanny gave a
vast chuckle.

"Yas, ma'am, indeed,--yo' highness," she agreed, suavely.

The coach rolled along for half an hour, and then stopped with a sudden
jolt. An instant later the tall driver appeared at the window, his head
uncovered. A man hard by held a lantern.

"Qua vandos ar deltanet, yos serent," said the leader, showing
his white teeth in a triumphant smile. His exposed eye seemed to be
glowing with pleasure and excitement.