“I wonder what he is thinking now he knows I am no mute.”
“Men make all sorts of mistakes, and I shouldn’t be in the least surprised if he believes we are just—running away together.”
“Bob! How ridiculous!” she cried, with a merry laugh, her cheeks aflush. “Let us get on;” and she shook the reins, and dashed on ahead from me.
When we reached the forked roads at the top of the hill I glanced at my watch. It was nearly half-past three, and we had still forty miles to cover on an unknown road; it had taken us some three hours to do about twenty miles in daylight with the horses fresh—how long would they take to finish the journey mostly in the dark? I shook my head dubiously over the sum.
“We’ll ride on a couple of miles or so and then find a spot for our picnic; but we can’t spare more than half an hour at the outside.”
Black bread, sausage, and village cheese do not make an epicurean lunch; but Volna and I had rich hunger sauce, and were more than satisfied. We fed the horses while we were eating, to save time, and in half an hour we were ready for the road again. There was no longer any doubt that the weather was going to change. As we mounted there were very ominous banks of dark sullen clouds. Rain or snow would fall within a few hours: but I could only hope it would be rain.
“I fancy we’ve shaken off any pursuit even if any one started out to follow us,” I said.
“We are going to have some weather, too, that will help us. I hope Bob doesn’t mind riding in the wet.”
“You guessed the thought in my mind, eh?”
“No. I’m used to reading weather signs. The rain never hurts me. I’ve been out for hours in it. But we shan’t have much for an hour or two, you’ll find.”