"But how," said he, "will you cross the Maravina?"
"You don't suppose," said Fitz, "that we have come as far as this to be deterred by the crossing of the Maravina?"
"All the bridges are closely guarded by the Republicans. The ferries also."
"We can swim the Maravina, at a pinch."
"You English can do most things," said John, "but don't attempt to swim the Maravina in the middle of January is my advice."
John's view drew a growl of deep bass approval from no less a person than the Chief Constable of Middleshire.
"We shall do what we can," said the Man of Destiny, with excellent indifference.
"Yes, but we damn well needn't do what we can't," said the Chief Constable sotto voce, yet meaning no disrespect to his native tongue.
I must confess to an involuntary shudder, as, at the instance of a too-active imagination, the waters of the Maravina pierced a pair of leathers "by a local artist of the name of Jobson." They seemed miserably damp already. And if anything feels more miserable than a pair of leathers when they are damp, I pray to be spared the knowledge.
High as our mission was, the flesh was loth to quit the warm stove at the hostelry of "The Hanging Cross" for those terrible purlieus that wound through the heart of the wild Illyrian mountains. But at least we could congratulate ourselves that the pass of Ryhgo was at an end, and that the black waters of Lake Montardo no longer lay in wait for the hapless traveller a thousand feet below. Also the snow had ceased, the wind had fallen, Mars and his brethren were looking again upon us, and there was a faint suspicion of a crescent moon.