“It’s because we are not on the high road,” said the Usher; “but this will take half an hour off our journey, and in five minutes we shall strike the road again, and then the shoes will be all right. Bear it for a few minutes longer if you can, Tim.”
But Tim found it so hard to bear, that the Usher took him on to his back and took his feet into his hands, and Bramble minor carried the shoes. And five minutes passed but they did not strike the road, and five more minutes passed, and though Tim lay heavy upon the Usher’s shoulder (for he was asleep) the Usher’s heart was heavier still. And five minutes more passed, and Bramble minor was crying, and the Usher said, “Boys, we’ve lost our way. I see nothing for it but to put Timothy’s shoes down and follow them.”
So Bramble minor put down the shoes, and they started off to the left, and the Usher and the boys followed them.
But the shoes tripped lightly over the top of the snow, and went very fast, and the Usher and Bramble minor waded slowly through it, and in a few seconds the shoes disappeared into the snowstorm, and they lost sight of them altogether, and Bramble minor said—“I can’t go any further. I don’t mind being left, but I must lie down, I am so very, very tired.”
Then the Usher woke Timothy, and made him put on Bramble minor’s boots and walk, and he took Bramble minor on to his back, and made Timothy take hold of his coat, and they struggled on through the storm, going as nearly as they could in the way that the shoes had gone.
“How are you getting on, Timothy?” asked the Usher after a long silence. “Don’t be afraid of holding on to me, my boy.”
But Timothy gave no answer.
“Keep a brave heart, laddie!” cried the Usher, as cheerfully as his numb and languid lips could speak.
Still there was silence, and when he looked round, Timothy was not there.
When and where he had lost his hold the distracted Usher had no idea. He shouted in vain.