Brother Wilkins was in the abstracted state that always followed his preaching and Jason was glad to respect his silence, until it had lasted so long that he became uneasy.
"Father, didn't you say that Herd's was five miles beyond the church?"
The minister pulled up his horse. In the darkness Jason could barely see the outlines of his body.
"Heavens, Jason! Why didn't you rouse me sooner? This isn't the main traveled road. When did we leave it?"
"I don't know, sir. I thought you knew this part of the country so well—"
"So I do, ordinarily. But I can't recognize by-paths on a night like this. Wait, isn't that a light up the mountainside yonder? Come along, my boy, we'll find out where we are."
The light glowed only faintly from the open door of a cabin. An old woman, with a pipe in her mouth, sat crooning over a little fire in the crude fireplace. She looked up in astonishment when the two appeared in the doorway.
"Why, it's Brother Wilkins!" she cackled. "Lord's sake, what you doin' clar up hyar!"
"Why, Sister Clark! I am glad to see you," exclaimed Jason's father, shaking one of the old woman's hands, and shouting into her other, which she cupped round her ear. "My son and I must have got off the main road five miles back. We're on our way to Milton."