In a very few minutes the countenance of the coachman was literally cut to pieces, and several of his teeth were dislodged; at length he gave in; stung with mortification, however, he repented, and asked for another round; it was granted, to his own complete demolition.

The coachman did not drive his coach back that day, he did not appear on the box again for a week; but he never held up his head afterwards.

Before I quitted the inn, he had disappeared from the road, going no one knew where.
The coachman, as I have said before, was very much disliked upon the road, but there was an _esprit de corps_ amongst the coachmen, and those who stood by did not like to see their brother chastised in such tremendous fashion.

"I never saw such a fight before," said one.

"Fight! why, I don't call it a fight at all, this chap here ha'n't got a scratch, whereas Tom is cut to pieces; it is all along of that guard of his; if Tom could have got within his guard he would have soon served the old chap out." "So he would," said another, "it was all owing to that guard.
However, I think I see into it, and if I had not to drive this afternoon, I would have a turn with the old fellow and soon serve him out." "I will fight him now for a guinea," said the other coachman, half taking off his coat; observing, however, that the elderly individual made a motion towards him, he hitched it upon his shoulder again, and added, "that is, if he had not been fighting already, but as it is, I am above taking an advantage, especially of such a poor old creature as that." And when he had said this, he looked around him, and there was a feeble titter of approbation from two or three of the craven crew, who were in the habit of currying favour with the coachmen.