The driver wore the same
oiled hat, the same waterproof cape as the other. And when the cab
had passed the darkness swirled back where the two small lamps had
been, and the slush poured into the wheel-tracks and nothing remained
but the speculations of the shepherd to tell that a hansom cab had
been in that part of China; presently even these ceased, and he was
back with the early legends again in contemplation of serener things.
And the storm and the cold and the darkness made one last effort, and
shook the bones of that shepherd, and rattled the teeth in the head
that mused on the flowery fables, and suddenly it was morning. You
saw the outlines of the sheep all of a sudden, the shepherd counted
them, no wolf had come, you could see them all quite clearly. And in
the pale light of the earliest morning the third hansom appeared, with
its lamps still burning, looking ridiculous in the daylight. They came
out of the East with the sleet and were all going due westwards, and
the occupant of the third cab also wore evening dress.
Calmly that Manchu shepherd, without curiosity, still less with
wonder, but as one who would see whatever life has to show him, stood
for four hours to see if another would come. The sleet and the East
wind continued. And at the end of four hours another came. The
driver was urging it on as fast as he could, as though he were making
the most of the daylight, his cabby's cape was flapping wildly about
him; inside the cab a man in evening dress was being jolted up and
down by the unevenness of the plain.
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