"No need of that," said the old man; "you are giving us a privilege. Harness the old mare, Minnie, lass," he said. "No, don't move. She's as handy as a whip about a stable," he added, as George had arisen.
The young girl flushed, and patted her grandfather on the shoulder as she passed.
"It will be ready in a minute," she said, glancing at George out of the corner of her eye.
"Put her to the sledge, and toss some hay in the bottom of it," called the old gaffer after her. "I am afraid I shall have to take you part of the way as cargo," he said, turning, and at the same time filling a pewter mug full of cool fresh milk. "There's the drink that keeps one young," he added, pouring out another for himself.
The sledge was waiting in the wood-shed, and George was soon covered with the light load of hay.
"We have some suspicious neighbors hereabouts," said the girl, as she lightly tossed the cover so as to conceal the young officer's form. "Good-by, and an easy journey to you."
"Good-by, and a thousand thanks," came the answer from the depths of the hay.
"G'long, Molly," said the old man, and the sledge slipped over the shavings into the snowy road.
They jogged along for an hour or so, when it became evident to George that they had left the beaten track and were going through deeper snow.
"Whoa up, old sweetheart! Back! back! 'Sh! 'sh!" called the driver, reining in. "Jump out," he said. "Here's where we change."