Lavinia had been revolving a plan of escape, but to launch herself among an unruly mob ready for any devilry might be worse than remaining where she was.

But in spite of all that she did not cease to think about her plan and watched for an opportunity when the worst of the rabble should have passed.
Suddenly the coach came to a standstill.

Shouts and oaths--more of the latter than the former--were heard, and Dorrimore after fretting and fuming lowered the window on his side and put out his head.
"What the devil's hindering you ?" he demanded angrily, of the coachman.
"That monstrously clumsy waggon; the stubborn knave of a waggoner has gotten the middle of the road and there he sticks.

He'll draw neither to the left or the right.

I've a mind to get down and baste the surly bumpkin's hide." "Don't be a fool.