So she brought herself to a full stop and, slipping from her horse, stood beside him, gently stroking his side.
"Good old fellow," she said gently, "if I'd leave you to yourself, I dare say you'd carry me home safely. Perhaps in a few minutes we can turn round and make a fresh start; but now I want to think."
So she stood for five minutes or more, and among the many thoughts that flew across her brain was one that, if shaped into words, would have been: "I wish that I had gone with the others to Mrs. Airton's." But she could not remain inactive.
"Whatever happens, I won't be lost on the mountain," cried Martine, emphatically. "It's always better to go on than to stand still, and especially as the fog is so thick that I'm likely to be drenched to the skin if I stay here much longer."
At this moment the surrounding stillness was broken by a sound; she listened intently, and in a very short time realized that what she heard was really the noise of approaching wheels. She drew her horse close to the side of the road; a vehicle of some kind was near her.
"Hello, hello," she shouted, picturing herself at the moment as a stranded mariner on a shipwrecked vessel. The vehicle was close upon her; the driver drew up his horse; Martine approached him.
"What on earth—" he began.
"Yes, on earth," responded Martine. "I shouldn't like to be at sea, lost in the fog."