But they had no command of their limbs; they staggered
clumsily this way and that, and finally found their level in the slimy
ditch that flanked the road.
Desmond whipped up the horses in the highest spirits. He had hoped for a
lift in a farmer's cart; fortune had favored him in giving him four
roadsters to drive himself. And no boy, certainly not one of his romantic
impulses, but would feel elated at the idea of helping ladies in
distress, and on a spot known far and wide as the scene of perilous
adventure.
The carriage was heavy; the road, though level, was thick with autumn
mud; and the horses made no great speed. Desmond, indeed, durst not urge
them too much, for the mist was thickening, making the air even darker
than the hour warranted; and as the roadway had neither hedge nor wall to
define it, but was bounded on each side by a ditch, it behooved him to go
warily.
He had just come to a particularly heavy part of the road where the
horses were compelled to walk, when he heard the thud of hoofs some
distance behind him. The sound made him vaguely uneasy. It ceased for a
moment or two; then he heard it again, and realized that the horse was
coming at full gallop. Instinctively he whipped up the horses. The ladies
had also heard the sound; and, putting her head out of the window, the
elder implored him to drive faster.
Could the two besotted knaves have put the horseman on his track, he
wondered. They must believe that the carriage had been run away with, and
in their tipsy rage they would seize any means of overtaking him that
offered.
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