"Well, never mind that. I must change when I get in."
"Ah! but then you'll find it such a dreadful road," said he. "The lane is nothing but slush and quagmire from one end to the other."
"No matter. We must pick our way through it as well as we can, and get out of it as soon as possible."
"Yes," said he, "so you must. But then it's so dismally long—a league and a half, if not near upon two."
"No matter, no matter; we shall find the end of it, sooner or later, I hope."
"How unfortunate, though, you ride a pony!" said he. "Why, you'd get through a thousand times better on horseback. You'll be caked with dirt up to your middle."
"Oh, never mind that. Dirt will brush off."
"Ah! I only wish you could have started earlier," said the captain. "It's now just upon sunset; and, with such a night as this, in another half-hour or so you'll have it pitch-dark."
"Well, we must do the best we can, you know. If we can't see our way, we must feel it."
"Yes, that's just what I was thinking," said he. "You'll have to grope for it, no doubt. But then, unfortunately, from the present state of the road, you'll find that far from agreeable. One time you'll lay hold of a dead bullock; another, of a dead man."