The good pastor bowed gravely, and the major completed his toilet by the time the servant returned and reported the carriage ready.
It was dark as pitch when they emerged from the hall door out into the front portico, before which nothing could be seen but two red bull's-eyes of the carriage lanterns, and nothing heard but the dissatisfied whinnying and pawing of the horses.
CHAPTER II.
THE MASKS.
"What are these,
So withered and so wild in their attire
That look not like th' inhabitants of earth
And yet are on't?"
—Macbeth.
"To the Devil's Punch Bowl," was the order given by Old Hurricane as he followed the minister into the carriage. "And now, sir," he continued, addressing his companion, "I think you had better repeat that part of the church litany that prays to be delivered from 'battle, murder and sudden death,' for if we should be so lucky as to escape Black Donald and his gang, we shall have at least an equal chance of being upset in the darkness of these dreadful mountains."
"A pair of saddle mules would have been a safer conveyance, certainly," said the minister.