"A lucky chance, in truth. A comrade is an important acquisition in such a ride as ours promises to be."
"I already have one of my own choosing," replied O'Connor drily; "I ride attended."
"And so do I," continued the other, "and doubtless our trusty squires are just as happy in the rencounter as are their masters."
A considerable silence ensued, which at length was broken by the stranger.
"Your reserve, sir," said he, "as well as the hour at which you travel, leads me to conjecture that we are both bound on the same errand. Am I understood?"
"You must speak more plainly if you would be so," replied O'Connor.
"Well, then," resumed he, "I half believe that we shall meet to-night—where it is no sin to speak loyalty."
"Still, sir, you leave me in the dark as to your meaning," replied O'Connor.
"At a certain well of sweet water," said the man with deliberate significance—"is it not so—eh—am I right?"
"No, sir," replied O'Connor, "your sagacity is at fault; or else, it may be, your wit is too subtle, or mine too dull; for, if your conjectures be correct, I cannot comprehend your meaning—nor indeed is it very important that I should."