“Say it takes them three weeks to reach the place, they must be there at least a week, perhaps ten days, and then the journey back—well, it must be seven weeks or two months before anything can be known for a certainty. It is a case for long patience, Miss Doyne, and it will need every ounce of fortitude that you possess to weather through this hard time and to help Mrs. Ellis to bear up in the face of her heavy bereavement.”
Bertha nodded; she had no words with which to reply to the kindly inspector, and then, as Edgar came out of the house at this moment with a great wedge of oatcake in his hand, she clambered into the wagon and waited for him to take the driving lines in his own hands.
“I think that you will have to do the driving this trip,” he said, with a smile. “I am merely escort to the expedition, not the expedition itself.”
“I shall hate to drive while you sit and look on. I shall feel as if you are criticizing my way of doing it, and I do not want to be made nervous,” she said, hesitating still, as if she thought that he would immediately take the lines if he saw that she did not want to do it.
“Oh, I will do my criticizing aloud, and so it will have all the effect of a lesson in driving,” he answered easily; and she had to take the lines, which he handed to her, and then, as he climbed into the wagon after her, he asked a question of the Inspector, who was waiting to see them start. “Do you think that we should be wise in driving straight to Duck Flats, instead of turning off to Pentland Broads? Miss Doyne is very anxious to reach home before this bad news about the Brown Expedition, especially as Miss Long is there looking after Mrs. Ellis.”
“That is a very good idea, and by taking the cross-trail through Benson’s wheat you will save at least three miles; at the worst, Bill Humphries will only think that the repairs to his wagon took a little longer than he bargained for, unless, indeed, he thinks that Miss Doyne has run away with his wagon,” said the Inspector; and then the black horse, refusing to be held in any longer, dashed away down the street and out along the muddy trail, ploughing through soft places and pounding along at such a wild rate, that Bertha was thankful, indeed, to have someone with her to whom she could turn if the task of driving became more than she could manage.
Her companion munched his oatcake in silence until it was gone, and even then he did not speak, leaving it to her to talk if she wished, or to sit in silence if that was what she preferred. Meanwhile, he had letters to read which had come to the police barracks for him, and had been given to him by Inspector Grant. Presently he jerked up his head and spoke with so much brisk energy in his tone, that Bertha, who had been very much absorbed, gave a little jump of astonishment.
“Do you care to hear some good news? At least, it is news that is very good for me.”
“Yes, indeed, I care, and good news will be a treat, seeing how rare it has been of late,” she replied wearily.
He gave her a keen glance, but made no comment on her words, only asked a question. “How much do you know of the disasters which have driven me into doing navvy work, or anything else which gave promise of an honest dollar?”