I told the waiter to book me a place in which coach he pleased.

The two were called respectively The Humming Bee, and The Red Cross Knight.

The waiter chose the latter.
Sleep was not much in my way that night.

I rose almost as early as Boots himself--breakfasted--then sat at the coffee-room window looking out anxiously for the two coaches.
Nobody seemed to agree which would pass first.

Each of the inn servants of whom I inquired made it a matter of partisanship, and backed his favorite coach with the most consummate assurance.