“When I drifted in at Abel’s this evening and Cissy told me you’d come here I was amazed. And downright scared. Cissy told me she was worried about you but hadn’t liked to say anything to dissuade you for fear you’d think she was thinking selfishly about herself. So I came on up here instead of going to Deerwood.”
Valancy felt a sudden delightful glow irradiating soul and body under the dark pines. So he had actually come up to look after her.
“As soon as they stop hunting for us we’ll sneak around to the Muskoka road. I left Lady Jane down there. I’ll take you home. I suppose you’ve had enough of your party.”
“Quite,” said Valancy meekly. The first half of the way home neither of them said anything. It would not have been much use. Lady Jane made so much noise they could not have heard each other. Anyway, Valancy did not feel conversationally inclined. She was ashamed of the whole affair—ashamed of her folly in going—ashamed of being found in such a place by Barney Snaith. By Barney Snaith, reputed jail-breaker, infidel, forger and defaulter. Valancy’s lips twitched in the darkness as she thought of it. But she was ashamed.
And yet she was enjoying herself—was full of a strange exultation—bumping over that rough road beside Barney Snaith. The big trees shot by them. The tall mulleins stood up along the road in stiff, orderly ranks like companies of soldiers. The thistles looked like drunken fairies or tipsy elves as their car-lights passed over them. This was the first time she had even been in a car. After all, she liked it. She was not in the least afraid, with Barney at the wheel. Her spirits rose rapidly as they tore along. She ceased to feel ashamed. She ceased to feel anything except that she was part of a comet rushing gloriously through the night of space.
All at once, just where the pine woods frayed out to the scrub barrens, Lady Jane became quiet—too quiet. Lady Jane slowed down quietly—and stopped.
Barney uttered an aghast exclamation. Got out. Investigated. Came apologetically back.
“I’m a doddering idiot. Out of gas. I knew I was short when I left home, but I meant to fill up in Deerwood. Then I forgot all about it in my hurry to get to the Corners.”
“What can we do?” asked Valancy coolly.
“I don’t know. There’s no gas nearer than Deerwood, nine miles away. And I don’t dare leave you here alone. There are always tramps on this road—and some of those crazy fools back at the Corners may come straggling along presently. There were boys there from the Port. As far as I can see, the best thing to do is for us just to sit patiently here until some car comes along and lends us enough gas to get to Roaring Abel’s with.”