“That’s the first thing I shall ask the priest to let me do.”
“He’ll be a bit surprised when we walk in, I expect,” I laughed. “It’s a pretty cool thing you’re letting us into.”
“Do you think there’s any chance of our being followed?”
“Not yet. I fancy they’ll have their hands full enough with the other couple. We shall be miles on our way before they could start after us; and it’s too early for any one to be about to tell them which way we’ve gone.”
This proved to be the case. We did not meet a soul until we had ridden many miles and were nearing the forked road at the top of the hill which the priest had mentioned to me. There we passed two or three peasants dressed in their best.
“That explains it,” I said.
“What explains what?”
“Why we have seen no one about. It’s Sunday morning and those people are going in to mass. Your friend the priest is evidently popular.”
“Can we reach the village before mass time?”
“No. We had better finish the journey on foot. My idea is to turn off somewhere at the bottom of the hill and just leave the horses. We can’t very well quarter them on the priest as well as ourselves. Besides, it would cause much more gossip than if we were to arrive on foot. And gossip is dangerous.”