Though on the mountain road there was no mud, for the steep ascent was well-drained, it was hard traveling even for strong and swift horses. Jefferies’ heart smote him as he urged them on. He knew the horses he was driving would be useless for weeks, but if a man’s life hung in the balance, the horses must travel their best, though they drop dead at the end of the journey.
The road from the foot to the top of the mountain was between three and four miles long. It had been cut along the side of the hill, and was so narrow that teams could not pass except at certain places, widened sufficiently to give ‘turning-out’ room.
Jefferies had stopped at one of these places to rest his horses. Upon the instant they reared and would have plunged the carriage backward over the side, had not their driver retained his presence of mind to speak to them, leaning over to pat their sweating flanks. After quieting them, he called out: “Now you fellows attempt to seize the bridle again, and I’ll let you see how close I can shoot to the mark. The horses won’t stand strangers fooling about them. If you’ve anything to say, come alongside and say it. But bear in mind, we’ll not put up with any funny business. Are you coming? If you don’t, I’ll drive on.”
“Have you a revolver?” whispered Elizabeth.
“You don’t think I would take a drive like this without one, do you?” was the reply.
At his invitation, dark forms emerged from the bushes and from behind the trees. As they advanced, it seemed as though the road was filled with men. They came close, swinging their lanterns high to see the occupants of the carriage. They were a sorry-looking set. The winter had been hard upon them, though the fault was their own. They had had little to eat; they had grown thin and haggard; their eyes were sunken; their features pinched. They jabbered in their own tongue, turning from one to another. Elizabeth noticed with alarm that some bore firearms, while others carried clubs and even stones. She was so frightened that she could not have spoken a word had her life depended upon it. Fortunately Nora was different. Elizabeth crouched back in her seat. Nora leaned forward, and with a manner indicative of her ability to protect herself, and her confidence in them, she addressed them.
“I’m glad we met you,” she exclaimed. “You are miners? Then you can tell me how to reach Mr. Dennis O’Day. I must reach him to-night—within a few hours. I have a message for him.”
They talked among themselves.
“What’s the message?” one asked in broken English.
“It’s not to be told to every one,” she replied. “If you will tell me who your leader is, I’ll whisper it to him.”