"So long as I have the dinner basket I remain sweet-tempered," answered Heathcote.
She put on her hat, but her neck-tie and cuffs were gone.
"I have them safe," he said. "They are with the potatoes."
Reaching the mill, they tried the door, but found it securely fastened. They tried the house door and windows, with the same result. Unless they broke several panes of glass they could not gain entrance, and even then it was a question whether Heathcote would be able to thrust inward the strong oaken stick above, which held the sash down.
"Do mount your horse and ride home," urged Anne. "I shall be safe here, and in danger of nothing worse than a summer shower. I will go back in the ravine and find a beech-tree. Its close, strong little leaves will keep off the rain almost entirely. Why should both of us be drenched?"
"Neither of us shall be. Come with me, and quickly, for the storm is close upon us. There is a little cave, or rather hollow in the rock, not far above the road; I think it will shelter us. I, for one, have no desire to be out in your 'summer shower,' and ride home to Caryl's afterward in a limp, blue-stained condition."
"How long will it take us to reach this cave?" said Anne, hesitating.
"Three minutes, perhaps."
"I suppose we had better go, then," she said, slowly. "But pray do not take those things. They will all have to be brought down again."
"They shall be," said Heathcote, leading the way toward the road.