The sailor rode in silence; moving his lips now and then, as if he were talking to himself, but taking no notice of any of the company.

The coach stopped at the villages which they passed through, to exchange the mail, and sometimes to take in new passengers.

In the course of these changes Marco got his place shifted to the forward seat by the side of the sailor, and he gradually got into conversation with him.

Marco introduced the conversation, by asking the sailor if he knew how far it was to Montpelier.
"No," said the sailor, "I don't keep any reckoning, but I wish we were there." "Why ?" asked Marco.
"O, I expect the old cart will capsize somewhere among these mountains, and break our necks for us." Marco had observed, all the morning, that when the coach canted to one side or the other, on account of the unevenness of the road, the sailor always started and looked anxious, as if afraid it was going to be upset.

He wondered that a man who had been apparently accustomed to the terrible dangers of the seas, should be alarmed at the gentle oscillations of a stage-coach.
"Are you afraid that we shall upset ?" asked Marco.
"Yes," said the sailor, "over some of these precipices and mountains; and then there'll be an end of us." The sailor said this in an easy and careless manner, as if, after all, he was not much concerned about the danger.