“We’ll soon reach the Yarmouth woods,” said Mr. Freeman encouragingly, “and if the storm comes may be able to find some sort of shelter, but I fear it will prevent our reaching the salt works.”
Rose and Anne both thought to themselves that troughs and kettles filled with salt water would not be very much of a sight, and were very glad when the sandy plain was behind them and they were once more in the shelter of the woods, which broke the force of the wind. It was now raining in torrents.
“One good thing about this is that the rain will beat the sand down and make the traveling better,” said Mr. Freeman.
The road was a mere lane, and they all began to feel a little uncomfortable and discouraged as the thunder deepened and came peal after peal, followed by shooting darts of lightning. The big horse was going at a good pace, but, all at once, Lady made a quick turn, and before Mr. Freeman could stop her had swung into an even more narrow track, half hidden by underbrush from the main road. In a few moments they saw a long low shingled house nearly hidden by closely growing trees.
“Well done, Lady!” exclaimed Mr. Freeman laughingly, as Lady stopped directly in front of the door.
Mr. Freeman handed the reins to Rose and sprang out, and rapped on the door, but no answer came.
“I don’t believe there is any one here,” he declared. “Stay in the chaise a moment, and I’ll find out.” As he spoke he gave the door a little push when, much to his surprise, it swung open and Mr. Freeman found himself face to face with a tall, black-bearded man who regarded him with a scowling countenance.
“What do you want?” he asked gruffly.
At that moment a peal of thunder heavier than any preceding it made Rose and Anne shrink more closely together in the corner of the chaise. “He looks like a pirate,” whispered Rose fearfully.
“We want shelter until this storm is over,” Mr. Freeman replied. “May I drive my horse into that shed?”