"Bear her safely, Warlock!" I muttered, huskily, and lifted her to the saddle, bidding Foxcroft mount his own horse, as I would walk beside Miss Warren.
So we started, Foxcroft in the van, then the Weasel, with Mount afoot, leading the horse, then Silver Heels in her saddle, with one hand on my shoulder as I walked at her side, rifle trailed.
"There is a road which swings north," said Foxcroft. "We must circle Lexington."
"There is a road yonder," called out Mount.
Foxcroft hesitated.
"I think it leads to Roxbury," he said; "I cannot tell if it be the road."
"Is it the Roxbury Road, Cade?" asked Mount, cheerfully.
"Doubtless, doubtless," replied the Weasel, vacantly, staring at Silver Heels.
"He does not remember," whispered Silver Heels.
"Try it," said Mount; "I doubt not but that it swings far north o' Lexington. If this were the forest 'twixt Saint Sacrement and Pitt I'd vouch for us all, but the smell o' the town has dulled and blunted my nose, and I see no longer like a tabby in a dark pantry."