“Yes, I can,” replied Nat. “But I am very doubtful as to whether we shall be able to guide the old Fire Bird through that same path you mention. The wagon road is almost entirely overgrown with rank grass and weeds, you know. It would be a clever trick to navigate it in the day time, and now, as you can see for yourself, the twilight approaches on rapid feet.”
“Then we will park the car and walk,” said Tavia imperiously. “Nat, won’t you do this much for me?”
“My dear, I would do far more than that for you,” Nat assured her, and Tavia’s bright eyes softened at his tone.
They turned the Fire Bird in the direction of the woods, found the old wagon road, and drove along it as far as they were able.
Then Nat helped Tavia to the rough ground and they started on a walk that was more nearly a run. Having come this far, Tavia found herself obsessed by the belief that there was urgent need of haste.
She would have rushed blindly on through the shadow-filled woods had not Nat, at her elbow, gently restrained her, urging that she take her time.
“Nothing will be gained if you stumble over a root and break your leg,” he told her, and Tavia replied indignantly that she had no intention of being so foolish.
“I feel as though Roger were in danger of some sort, Nat,” she said, during one of those pauses when they had sent their combined voices echoing and reechoing through the woods. “I feel as though we ought to run every step of the way.”
“And probably Roger is at The Cedars, enjoying his dinner by this time,” rejoined Nat, as they started on again. “Don’t let your imagination run away with you, my dear.”
Her nerves already on edge, Tavia was about to retort sharply but closed her lips just in time. Nothing would be gained by quarreling with Nat. They would only waste time.