Clouds of brown dust from the road whirled in through the shattered side, setting me coughing and stinging my eyes. I doubt if a hearse had ever moved so fast. A mere coffin was no burden at all for six excited horses, and Stephen was driving like a man trying to win a bet. Through the small window at the front of the hearse, I could see his back as he sat on the driver’s box. He didn’t turn and had no reason to suppose I was on board. Looking through the back window, I glimpsed a shape in the dust clouds that looked like the mourning carriage coming after us, with a figure large enough to be Amos on the driver’s box. It was travelling fast but not gaining on us, having four horses instead of six. As well as the dust, my view of it was restricted by what seemed to be two black columns on the outside of the window. It took me some time to realise that they were the legs of the unfortunate page, forgotten by everybody and clinging to the back of the hearse for dear life. Through it all, something was clanging like a funeral bell gone mad.
What do You think about A Corpse In Shining Armour?
