Auntie was a truer prophet than she knew; for when they got to the little hamlet in the wood, where they were to rest, something proved to be wrong with one of the horse’s shoes; so wrong, indeed, that after a prolonged examination, at which all the inhabitants turned out to assist, it was decided that the horse must be re-shod before he could go any farther; and this made it impossible for the party who had come in the carriage to go any farther either. For the nearest smithy was two miles off; the horse must be led there and back by the driver, which would take at least two, if not three, hours. It was now past six, and they had come barely half way. The driver shook his head, and said he would not like to go on to the town till morning. The horse had pricked his foot; it might cause inflammation to drive him farther without a rest, and the carriage was far too heavy for the other horse alone, which had suddenly struck the children’s uncle as a brilliant idea.
“There would be no difficulty about the harnessing, any way,” he said to Auntie, laughing; “for all the vehicles hereabouts drawn by one horse have the animal at one side of a pole, instead of between shafts.”
But Auntie thought it better to give in.
“It really doesn’t much matter,” she said; “we can stay here well enough. There are two bedrooms, and no doubt they can give us something to eat; beer and sausages, and brown bread any way.”
And so it was settled greatly to Olive’s satisfaction; it would give her capital opportunities for a dwarf hunt! though as to this she kept her own counsel.
The landlady of the little post-house where they had stopped was accustomed to occasional visits of this kind from benighted or distressed travelers. She thought nothing of turning her two daughters out of their bedroom, which, it must be owned, was very clean, for Auntie and Olive, and a second room on the ground-floor was prepared for Rex and his uncle. She had coffee ready in five minutes, and promised them a comfortable supper before bedtime. Altogether, everything seemed very satisfactory, and when they felt a little refreshed, Auntie proposed a walk—“a good long walk,” she said, “would do us good. And the landlady says we get out of the forest up there behind the house, where the ground rises, and that there is a lovely view. It will be rather a climb, but it isn’t more than three quarters of an hour from here, and we have not walked all day.”
Uncle thought it a good idea, and Rex was ready to start at once; but Olive looked less pleased.
“Don’t you want to come, Olive?” said Auntie. “Are you tired? You didn’t take a nap like the rest of us.”
“I am a little tired,” said Olive, which was true in one sense, though not in another, for she was quite fit for a walk. It struck her that her excuse was not quite an honest one, so she added, “If you don’t mind, I would rather stay about here. I don’t mind being alone, and I have my book. And I do so like the forest.”
“Very well,” said her uncle; “only don’t lose yourself. She is perfectly safe,” he added, turning to her aunt; “there are neither wolves, nor bears, nor robbers nowadays, in these peaceful forests.”