“What were you thinking, Master Syd?”
“That all this is very stupid, and that we should be ever so much more comfortable in bed.”
Pan sighed.
“Oh, I dunno,” he said. “I shouldn’t, on’y my legs ache ever so.”
“We ought to have brought a lot of cold meat and bread with us, Pan.”
“Ah! wouldn’t it be good now!”
“How long do you think it will be before morning, so that we can get to a town, and buy some bread and milk?”
“I dunno, Master Syd. It can’t be late yet, and it’s ever so far to a town this way, ’cause it’s all forest for miles and miles.”
They were tramping on again now, but in a more irregular way. There was none of the vigorous pace for pace that had marked the beginning of their flight, and as the road grew more rough their steps began to err, and sometimes one, sometimes the other was a little in advance.
“Don’t you wish you were back in your bed, Pan?” said Sydney at last.