“They will wash through the carriage, Sister Felicite.”
“Then what is to be done, Pedro?”
“Alas! I know not,” was the dejected reply.
“If you return, the road is dangerous, night is coming on, and there is no ranch within fifteen miles.”
“Very true, sister.”
“What shall we do, then?” the nun asked anxiously.
“Place greater weights in the carriage, sister; open the doors, to let the water run through and not wash it away; let me mount the box with Pedro, to use the whip, while he manages the horses, and we can get across.”
The speaker was the young girl, and the nun looked at her with an expression of amazed horror.
“Why, child, what do you mean?”
“Oh, Sister Felicite, I do not mind a ducking or danger, for I have crossed many a stream beyond its banks.”