The fellow stared at Lady Betty's pretty face and eager eyes. "Aye, there's a ford," he answered, the rain dripping off his nose.
"A better ford than this?"
"Ay, 'tis paved."
"And how far from here is it?"
"A mile, or may be a mile and a bit."
Sophia gave him a shilling. She nodded to Watkyns. "I think we had better go," she said. "But I hope it may not be a long round," she continued with a sort of foreboding. "I shall be glad when we are in the main road again."
The horses' heads once turned, however, things seemed to go better. The sky grew lighter, the rain ceased, the lane, willow-lined, and in places invaded by the swollen stream that ran beside it, proved to be passable. Even the mile and a bit turned out to be no more than two miles, and in half an hour, the cavalcade, to which Mr. Fanshaw, moving in front, had the air of belonging, reached the ford.
The stream was wide here, but so full that the brown water swept swiftly and silently over the shallows. Nevertheless it was evident that Lane knew his ground, for, to Lady Betty's astonishment, he rode in gallantly, and spurred his horse to the other side, the water barely reaching its knees. Encouraged, the postboys cracked their whips and followed, the carriage swayed, Pettitt screamed; for a moment the water seemed rising all round them, the next they were across and jolting up the farther bank.
"There!" Lady Betty cried with a laugh of triumph. "I'd have bet that would be all right! When I saw him go through I knew that there was not much danger. Six miles more and we shall be in Lewes."
Suddenly, on the bank they had left, a man appeared, waving his arms to them. The carriage had turned to the left after crossing, and the movement brought the man full into view from the window. "What is it?" Sophia asked anxiously. "What is he shouting?" And she called to Watkyns to learn what it was.