"Can it be charcoal-burners?"
"No; this is not the time of year when they start their kilns. And if they were charcoal-burners, I should not like to trust them; I have no right, being your guide, to run any risks."
"Is there any other road we could take?"
"Yes."
"Then suppose we try it."
"I don't want to take it till reduced to the last extremity."
"Why not?"
"Because it crosses a marsh."
"Pooh! you who can walk on the water like Saint Peter! Don't you know the marsh?"
"I know it very well. I have often shot snipe there; but--"