After the landlord had left them they walked about three miles and lost themselves completely and thoroughly in a net-work of by-roads. Shelter for the night became a consideration, and it was Eve who sighted a haystack in the corner of a field, and who suggested it as a refuge. They scrambled over a gate and found that the haystack had been cut into, and that there was a deep fragrant walled recess sheltered from the road.
Lizzie Straker began to pull down some loose hay and spread it to make a cushion.
“We must teach those savages a lesson. We ought to set fire to this in the early morning.”
Eve was tired of Lizzie Straker.
“I don’t think that would be sport, burning the thing that has sheltered you.”
The hay was fragrant, but it could not mask the odour that had attached itself to her companions’ clothes. Eve had been spared the rotten eggs, but she was made to suffer indirectly, and persuaded to edge away into the corner of the recess. They had had to fly without their supper, and a few dry rock-cakes and some biscuits were all that they had in their knapsacks.
Lizzie Straker produced a candle-end and a box of matches. It was a windless night, and by the light of the candle the two women examined each other’s scars.
“We might get some of it off with the hay.”
“Isn’t it disgusting! And no water to wash in.”
They proceeded to rub each other down, taking turns in holding the candle.