He stepped to the saddle of his shivering horse and drew off the poncho, which he had spread above the animal instead of using it himself. He was wet to the bone. With apology he cast the waterproof over Molly's shoulders, since she now had discarded her blankets. He led the way, his horse following them.
They walked in silence in the deep twilight which began to creep across the blackened land. All through the storm he had scarcely spoken to her, and he spoke but rarely now. He was no more than guide. But as she approached safety Molly Wingate began to reflect how much she really owed this man. He had been a pillar of strength, elementally fit to combat all the elements, else she had perished.
"Wait!"
She had halted at the point of the last hill which lay between them and the wagons. They could hear the wailing of the children close at hand. He turned inquiringly. She handed back the poncho.
"I am all right now. You're wet, you're tired, you're burned to pieces. Won't you come on in?"
"Not to-night!"
But still she hesitated. In her mind there were going on certain processes she could not have predicted an hour earlier.
[pg 110]
"I ought to thank you," she said. "I do thank you."