XIX. THE SOLDIER
Off went the carriage with a dash, the rumbles of its wheels joining in the grewsome roar of the elements. For some time the two sat speechless, side by side. Outside the thunder rolled, the rain swirled and hissed, the wind howled and all the horrors of nature seemed crowded into the blackness of that thrilling night. Lorry wondered vaguely whither they were going, why he had seen no flashes of lightning, if he should ever see her again. His mind was busy with a thousand thoughts and queries.
“Where are we going?” he asked, after they had traveled half a mile or so.
“To a place of safety,” came the reply from the darkness beside him.
“Thanks,” he said, drily. “By the way, don't you have any lightning in this part of the world? I haven't seen a flash to-night.”
“It is very rare,” came the brief reply.
“Devilish uncommunicative,” thought Lorry.
After a moment he asked: “How far do we travel tonight?”
“A number of miles.”