“The señorita is right, Sister Felicite, for it is our only chance,” Pedro said.
“And the river is constantly rising, so that there is no time to delay,” Nina de Sutro remarked, in a determined manner, her face full of spirit and courage.
“What do you think, Pedro?” asked the nun.
“It is all that we can do, sister.”
“Then act upon the Señorita Nina’s suggestion at once.”
The driver sprang from his box, and at once began to pack the vehicle with stones to weight it down.
The baggage was taken from the boot and placed on top, and Sister Felicite mounted there, also, seated upon the cushions.
Nina climbed to the seat next to the driver’s upon the box; then the man mounted to his place, seized his reins, and, with a searching glance across the river, to where the trail left the waters on the other shore, he urged the horses into the now turbulent and deep stream.
It was a perilous undertaking, but the nun was silent and calm, the young girl fearless-faced and determined, the driver, Pedro, seeming anxious and nervous, understanding the danger more thoroughly, perhaps with a premonition of what lay in their path.
The carriage at times was swept along for a few feet; the horses time and again lost their footing but the brave driver knew the ford well, and Nina de Sutro understood just when to use the whip, for she carefully watched every movement of Pedro and the horses.