'None; it is wonderful!' said the girl.
'Then run along all of you as hard as you can,' said Mortimer. 'There's a farm and shelter I think quite close. I'll take the old man up on my horse.'
'We can't leave the cart,' said the girl.
'Oh, confound the cart!' said Mortimer, struggling with his plunging horse. 'You can get it after the storm is over.'
'We have some one in it,' said the unemotionable voice of the girl. 'He is dead.'
Again the anguished cry of one of the other girls rose through the rain.
Mortimer rode round the cart twice before he could think what to do.
'Whose farm is it? Is any one living on it?' he said.
'It is ours,' said the girl; 'we were almost home.'
'Who is at the farm—how many?' Mortimer said, having no inclination to run the risk of being made a prisoner before his despatches were safe.