She was roused by the stopping of the carriage. She draw up the blinds and opened the windows. It was now nearly dark, and distant flashes of lightning betokened a storm. The wind also had risen, and moaned among the distant trees.
They were upon the banks of a broad river, which was covered with small but white-crested waves.
The driver gave a peculiar kind of shout, which was answered from the other side by another shout and the ringing of a bell.
The lady began to understand.
They were about to cross a ferry.
She looked back on the road they had come, and which merely consisted of two huge ruts.
She could faintly distinguish the road on the other side, and it appeared to improve but little.
“Is this the only road to Broxbridge?” said she, in a tone of anxiety.
“Well, ma’am, it be,” returned the red-haired man, “unless we’ed gone by the pike, which is five miles round. Cattle and men are both used to these roads hereabouts.”
“But I thought the station was close to Broxbridge.”