retorted the poſtilion apparition, in a voice of timid defiance. ‘Very well!’ replied the horſeman, ‘let us ſee, comrade, which way thy noſe points.’ So ſaying he ſeized the reins, took the black figure by the middle, and daſhed him againſt the ground with ſuch force, that every bone in his body chattered; for the apparition had fleſh and bone, as apparitions commonly have. The maſk and drapery were preſently ſtripped away, and out there came a well-proportioned curly-pated fellow, juſt of the ſhape of an ordinary man. The knave finding himſelf detected, and apprehenſive of the weight of his adverſary’s fiſt—for he doubted not but the horſeman was Number-Nip himſelf, whom he had ventured to perſonate—ſurrendered at diſcretion, and begged piteouſly for his life: ‘My good Lord of the Mountain,’ ſaid he, ‘have compaſſion on a wretch who has been the ſhuttle-cock of fortune all his days; who could never be what he would, but was always violently
