"It's a vehicle of some kind," declared Jim.
"Now I hear it," admitted the engineer, "and I reckon that it is a carriage of some kind."
"This is as good a place as any," remarked Jim. "It's lucky there is a fog because there is no cover to get behind."
"Coming direct our way," said the engineer, as the thud of horses' feet could be heard distinctly, and the low roll of wheels over the ground.
The two comrades moved quickly to one side, and they saw emerge from the fog a high-stepping team drawing a closed carriage. The horses shied at what they saw at the side of the way, but the coachman pulled them quickly to their course and drove rapidly on. It was impossible to get even a glimpse of the occupants of the carriage.
"Me lord Duke," said Jim, "going to his ancestral castle."
"That's surely where he is bound for," declared the engineer.
"There goes the gate," cried Jim, as the sound of the iron closing came to his ears.
"The plot thickens," remarked the engineer; "that wasn't an ordinary turnout by any means."
"We will investigate this business before morning," determined Jim, "but there is nothing gained by rushing,—better let things settle. What do you say, John, to getting something to eat?"