“Near two hundred miles,” he told her.
“Let me see; we go ten miles to-day, which is nothing of a walk, and we spend the night in Carlisle, where you get another horse, and we go how far the next day?”
“Twenty-five or thirty, I think we can count on.”
“And that much every day?”
“If the weather is good.”
“Then in four or five days we shall go a hundred miles, and in a little over a week, say ten days, we shall get there. I wonder what it looks like.”
“Not so very different from what you see now—a trifle wilder, mayhap. But I wouldn’t count on our making it in ten days; when we are crossing the mountains, it will be sore work, verra rough travelling.”
“Oh!” Agnes was a little disappointed. She thought it might be quite different and that the trip would be made in short order, delays not having entered into her calculations. However she resumed the conversation cheerfully. “Now let us talk about what we are going to do when we get there.”
“My first step will be to get my land.”
“And then stake it out,” said Agnes, glad to display her knowledge of the necessary proceedings.