“Why, no, of course not. Especially if you will sit right in front of me so I can lean my head forward on your shoulder sometimes,” Judy replied.
Then Ran helped Dandy in and made him sit by Judy. The others followed.
Ran and Will Walling sat immediately in front of Judy and Dandy.
Mike and Longman on the third seat forward. The driver, a stout Yorkshireman, on the box.
The strong draught horses started at a moderate pace, such as might well be kept up during the whole journey across the moor.
It was a dark, cold night, and the two glass lanterns, fixtures, on each side above the driver’s seat, did little better than make “darkness visible.” But the road was as safe as a road by night could be, and the horses knew it as well as they knew the way to their own cribs.
Two hours of jog trot, safe and steady driving brought them to a great mass of dense shadows, like black mountains and forests against a dark gray northern sky.
The driver drew up his horses before this mystery and announced that they had reached the great wall of Haymore Park.
“How far from the lodge gates?” inquired Ran.
“About half a mile, sir.”