“Now, dear, I have two plans to propose to you. Choose between them. Mr. Cummings, the landlord here, has no conveyance except a heavy wagon drawn by mules, which he says is the safest sort for these mountain roads, and in which he is willing to send us on to Gryphynshold either to-night or to-morrow morning. The accommodations here are very rude and plain, as you see. You may judge what the upper rooms are by this, which I suppose is the best. Now it is for you to decide whether to go on to-night or to stay here and rest till morning and take the daylight for your journey to Gryphynshold.”
“Oh, let us go on at once! Where the mules can take the wagon, surely we can go,” promptly replied Gloria.
David Lindsay went out and gave the order. His exit was followed by the entrance of a colored girl, who respectfully invited the young lady to go up into a bedroom where she could lay off her wraps and refresh herself while the supper and the wagon were getting ready.
Gloria willingly followed her, and took the benefit of all her offered services.
Then, feeling much better, she slipped a piece of money in the poor girl’s hand and went down stairs, where an excellent supper awaited them.
Whatever the mental troubles of the young pair might be, the long journey over the snow-clad and frozen roads, and through the pure, exhilarating air of mid-winter had given them fine, healthy appetites, and they both did full justice to the coffee, corn-bread and venison steaks that were set before them.
Immediately after supper they entered the heavy wagon, into which their luggage had already been placed, and settled themselves to continue their journey to Gryphynshold.
“Mind, Tubal,” called the landlord to his negro driver, “you take the lower road! It is the longest, but it is the safest.”
“Yes, sar,” responded the darkey.
“And when you get to the Devil’s Backbreaker be sure to jump off and lead the mules all the way up, or there’ll be an accident. Do you mind?”