“Silence, Karasch,” I returned, angrily. My anger was at my own confounded weakness, but I vented it on him. “The air will pull me together.”
I started again for the horse and this time reached it, and with Karasch to help me, clambered into the saddle.
Mademoiselle watched us almost breathlessly. If my face was whiter than hers, I must have looked bad indeed.
“Have you got everything, Karasch?”
“Yes. Food, water and arms;” and he pointed to the horse he was to ride which was well laden.
“I can’t help you up, Mademoiselle,” I said, with a smile.
I seemed to be the only one of the three who could raise a smile; for she looked preternaturally grave and troubled as she mounted, and Karasch as though he had never known a smile since he was born. But then he was never much of a humorist.
“The map and the compass, you have them?” I asked him.
“I have them,” said Mademoiselle.
“Then we can go. Wait, wait,” I exclaimed. “I have forgotten something. I must get off.”