“Big drops; won’t last long,” prophesied Desiré; but Jack let down the curtains at the side of the seat, and drew out a rubber blanket to spread over their laps. Before they had covered two miles, the rain was coming down in earnest, and Jack turned off the road into the pine woods.
“Wonder if we can keep dry here,” he said, half to himself. “Can’t possibly get to the next town tonight.”
“We’ll have supper right away before the rain begins to come through the trees,” decided Desiré, jumping out.
The pine-covered ground was still dry, and it was very cosy under the thick boughs of the tall trees. The persistent patter of the rain and the murmuring of a brisk little breeze in the tree tops added to their sense of comfort and security.
“If it doesn’t rain any harder than this, we should be able to manage pretty well,” said Desiré encouragingly, as Jack peered anxiously skyward every little while.
Conversation turned upon the book Miss Robin had given Desiré, and then drifted to Nova Scotian history.
“I’m awfully stupid; but it seems to me such a hopeless jumble,” sighed Desiré.
“Maybe I can straighten it out for you by taking bare facts, and not going into detail at all,” said Jack. “Just think of it this way,” he went on. “About the year 1000 a man called Leif the Lucky came here from Iceland, found the country in the possession of the Micmac Indians, and left it to them.
“John Cabot touched here in 1497, and claimed the land for England. In 1606 Samuel de Champlain and some other Frenchman settled at Annapolis Royal, which they called Port Royal. A few years later the English destroyed it, and some of the inhabitants fled to the shores of the Basin of Minas and built the village of Grand Pré.”
“Oh, where Evangeline lived!” interrupted Priscilla.