“Oh! never mind—it was partly too to get Alice the candles she was bothering about for the Christmas Tree.—By-the-bye, I hope they’ve not fallen out of my pocket—no, here they are, all right.”
“I’m afraid you found no letter at the post-office after all. You see the orders for home came to us rather suddenly, and when I found I could be in England as soon as a letter could reach, I didn’t write. I am so sorry it happened so!”
“You had lots of real fighting among the Afghans, hadn’t you?”
“Yes—I’ll tell you about it some day. Just now I want my breath for something more than talking. How deep the snow is between these high hedges!”
“Yes—if only we could get over into the fields it would be better—and there is a short cut too.”
“Can we find it?”
“I’ll try—but my head is so stupid somehow—don’t I hear some one whistling behind us?”
As Bertie speaks a young laboring man comes up to them, looks with some surprise at the pair, and answers with a surly grunt to Captain Gordon’s inquiry as to the nearest way to Edenhurst.
“Why Jack, you can show us!” cries Bertie impatiently.