“Strong draught horses like these can work eight or ten hours at a stretch, if they are well fed and rested between times.”
“Oh! I’m so glad I have got away from the Haunted Chapel and the ghosts!” suddenly exclaimed Sybil.
“And especially from the ‘damp girl,’” laughed Lyon Berners.
“Oh, don’t mention her!” shuddered Sybil.
They were now entering one of those frequent mountain passes that diversified their road, and the care of driving required all Lyon’s attention.
They travelled all night as nearly in a direct line towards the far distant city as the nature of the ground would permit. At daylight they found themselves in the midst of a deep forest, some twenty miles east of Blackville. Here, as the road was naturally broad and the trees tall and sparse, and especially as a clear stream of water ran along on one side, the travellers decided to stop and rest, and refresh themselves and their horses until noon.
Lyon Berners got out and, followed by Sybil, went a little way into the woods, where they found a small opening and a spring of clear water.
Here Lyon gathered brushwood and made a fire, while Sybil returned to the wagon and brought back a basket of provisions. Among them was a bottle of coffee already made, and which she turned into a small tin coffee-pot, and set on the fire to be warmed.
And while Lyon went back to the wagon to attend to the wants of his horses, Sybil spread a very good breakfast of coffee, bread, and ham, upon the ground near the fire.
When they had given their horses time enough to rest they resumed their journey, still travelling towards the east.