"What precious fools we two must be, in the world's estimation! We both have admitted that we are enjoying ourselves under circumstances in which only Mark Tapley, I think, could be 'jolly';" and the gale bore away her mirthful laugh like a shred from a silver flag.
"O dear!" whined Bel and Addie; "it's perfectly awful."
And awful, indeed, it became, a few minutes later; for, having passed over a steep but sheltered section of the road, they came to a point where the north-east wind struck them strongly. At the same moment the storm appeared to develop into tenfold intensity, and to equal those terrible tempests on the prairies in which Hemstead remembered, with a shudder, that strong men and horses had perished within a few yards of shelter. They, alas! were now a long way from any house, and in the midst of the lonely mountains. It had also become so dark that he had to leave the choice of the road mainly to the horses.
At first these sagacious animals stopped, and refused to go any farther. Hemstead waited a few moments, in hope that the gust or gale would expend itself, and, in the mean time, instinctively put his arm around Lottie, to keep her from being blown off the seat.
"Miss Marsden," he said, close to her ear, "pardon me, but I fear this tempest will carry you away. The horrible thought crossed my mind that you might be caught in a sort of whirlwind and spirited off in this thick darkness where I could not find you."
"Would it trouble you very much if you could not find me?"
"O, don't speak of it! I would give years of my life if you were safe at home."
"Don't be so reckless with your years. I am very well content to be where I am."
"But there is danger."
"There is no more danger for me than for you."