I got so used to the silence and loneliness that when at last another sound began to mingle with the monotonous tread of the weary beast, I scarcely noticed it. Perhaps it was because it was only an increase of the same sound: it was the tread of another weary beast. But whether that was the reason, or whether it was that I was gradually growing more and more sleepy, certain it is that the sound grew to a point, and then began slowly to fade away again before I was quite conscious of its existence. Then suddenly I realized what it might be, and with all the strength of my being I shouted through the mist.
Once—twice I shouted, and then I stood still and listened. The sound of the hoofs and the wheels—yes, the wheels—still went on faintly. My heart grew sick, and again I shouted into the night; this time it was almost a cry. The wheels stopped. I shouted again, and there came back a faint holloa that told me how much fainter still must have been my own voice through the fog.
I leaped onto the horse, and urged him forward as near as I could tell in the direction of the voice. And all the time I continued shouting.
Thank Heaven! I heard the answering cry clearer and clearer each time. At last—at last I saw a horse and gig just discernible through the steaming darkness.
"Who is there?" cried a voice; and—how can I describe my happiness?—it was the voice of Trayton Harrod.
I don't think I answered. I think there was something in my throat which prevented me from answering; but he must have recognized me at once, for he gave vent to an exclamation which I had never heard him use before—he said, "Great heavens!" Then he got down out of the gig, and came towards me quickly.
"Miss Margaret!" he exclaimed. "How did you ever get here?"
I had recovered my usual voice by this time, and I replied, quietly enough, to the effect that I had been on an errand to Broadlands, and had lost myself coming home in the fog.
"Lost yourself! I should think you had lost yourself," ejaculated he, half angrily. "I was uncertain of my own road before you called, but I know well enough that you are entirely out of the beaten track here."
"Oh, then I'm afraid I shall have made you miss your way too," said I, apologetically.