So it had. The hollows among the stones which paved the wharf were filled with pools of water, and everywhere had the fresh-washed look which accompanies a heavy downpour.
'Well, we've been snug and dry enough,' cried Dick. 'Now for breakfast and a start.'
They had cooked the whole of the sausages the night before, so that they did not trouble to light a fire. They finished the loaf and the sausages, and were almost at the end of their meal, when Mrs. Slade came across from the wharfinger's house. Through her good offices they obtained a bucket of clean water, and washed their faces and hands, promising themselves a good dip in the first river they came to in their day's journey. So by half-past six they had said farewell to the bargewoman, and were marching through the silent streets of the little city in the sweet freshness of a June summer morning.
They had entered Newminster from the south: they were leaving it towards the north. In order to cover fresh ground all the time, they had planned their route so that their track as marked on the map showed as a very much flattened oval. They had worked towards Newminster on a south-westerly sweep; they were working home again on a north-easterly tack.
CHAPTER XXXVIII
HOMEWARD BOUND—A DISH OF EELS
For nearly three miles they held to the main road, going due north, then turned aside to a quiet grassy by-track running north-east, and were fairly launched on their new route. Moving in quiet, steady fashion, they made nine miles before they halted, then pulled up below an oak-tree on the borders of a little wood for a long halt during the heat of the day. Both, though in good, hard condition, were dripping with sweat, for the day was unwontedly sultry for early summer.
'Don't mind if I do stretch me legs a bit,' grunted the Raven.
'Yes,' said Dick; 'jolly stiff going to-day, Chippy. Isn't it hot? But we can take a good long rest now. We've broken the back of the day's journey.'