UNSUSPICIOUS TRAVELERS.
Madame Alroyd and Dora had intended departing from the place where they
had suffered so much, the day following the one on which Mr. Ellerton
had visited them and obtained our heroine’s signature to that fatal
document. But their plans were defeated; for on the morning set for
their departure, madam awoke with one of her raging nervous headaches,
caused by the excitement of the day previous, and from which she did not
recover for several days. Then a driving storm set in, which detained
them three days longer.
Toward evening of the third day, however, the clouds dispersed, and Dora
begged her aunt not to delay their departure any longer.
Madam thought it rather late in the day to begin a long journey, but
finally yielded to her niece’s persuasions, and ordered their carriage
to be got in readiness.
The kind-hearted landlord was much distressed at this decision, for he
knew it was unsafe for any one to travel in that part of the country
during the night, and put forth every inducement he could think of to
make them defer their journey until the following day.
But, no; Madame Alroyd said she wanted to get away from that “horrible
place” as soon as possible, and now that she had made up her mind, she
should not alter it; and in defiance of the anxious landlord’s
protestations, they started, with only their driver for a protection,
just as the last rays of the glorious setting sun faded from sight.
They soon repented of their hasty determination, for they had not
proceeded five miles upon their way when heavy clouds overcast the
before cloudless sky; the winds arose, and there was every indication of
another severe storm, or a continuation of the previous one. But they
would not turn back.
On they went, over the dark, rugged, mountain road, which was rendered
doubly dismal by the huge forest trees which lined each side of the
rough way.
Suddenly the carriage lights revealed to the driver’s frightened eyes a
closely muffled figure, with upraised arm, in the act of hurling a
heavy, knotted club at his head.
He dodged, but too late, for it struck him full in the face, and, with a
groan of pain, his fingers relaxed their hold upon the reins, and he
rolled senseless from his seat to the damp earth below.
At the same moment, the flying horses were seized by the bits by a
strong and evidently masterly hand, for after a few fearful plunges,
they yielded to firm hold, and stood quiet and resistless.
Madame Alroyd, thoroughly alarmed at this fearful state of affairs, but
without knowing the cause, hastily pulled down the carriage window, and
strove in vain to see what was the trouble.
“Thomas, what has occurred?” she asked, in a frightened voice.
“Nothing much, mum; only the horses got a little unruly and one of the
lamps went out, so I stopped to light it again,” replied a voice which
madam thought did not sound quite natural, but laid it to the howling
winds which rendered it almost impossible to hear.
“Very well,” she returned. “Light it again as soon as possible, for it
is a fearful night, and I am anxious to gain a shelter.”
“Yes, mum.”
“How far is it before we can reach one?” she continued.
“About six or eight miles,” said the man with a low chuckle, as he bent
over the refractory lamp which would not light.
“Blast it! there goes my last match,” he added, as it flickered, flared,
and went out.
“Well, well, Thomas, never mind,” returned the lady, impatiently. “Let
it go, and do the best you can with the other, only do hasten, for we
are almost frightened to death in this darkness, and long for a
comfortable room, with cheerful lights and a fire.”
“Yes, mum. All right, mum,” was the answer, as the man hastily climbed
to his seat, and touched the horses with his whip, muttering with
intense satisfaction.
“Neat little job that! neat little job; though I would rather have liked
to see what became of that stupid coachman.”
The horses’ heads, during the struggle which had just occurred, had been
adroitly turned to one side, and now in obedience to the reins, dashed
on with the speed of the winds in an entirely different direction from
that which they had been pursuing.
In fact, our unsuspicious travelers were being conveyed back to the very
place whence they had just come.
On, on they sped through the night’s intense blackness, over a rough and
uneven road, jolted and pitched from side to side, until they were ready
to cry out with pain and fatigue.
Two mortal hours, which they thought would never end, were spent in this
manner, and then they drew up before a small white house, from the
casement of which a single light was gleaming.
The driver went to the door and rapped.
His summons was immediately answered by a trim servant girl, who
demanded his business, though a close observer might have noticed the
look of recognition which passed between them.
He explained, loud enough for the inmates of the carriage to hear, their
situation; and after a slight demur on the part of the girl, obtained
permission for them to pass the night there.
Going back to the coach, he stated that it was not a regular inn, only a
little cottage in which lived a poor but honest family.
Our weary travelers cared not whether it was inn or hovel, so that they
could obtain rest, and quickly alighted, eagerly seeking the welcome
shelter, when they found to their surprise a neat little parlor at their
service, and a cheerful fire.
Their spirits readily returned under these pleasant influences, and when
a tempting little supper of tea, toast, and chicken was added to their
comforts, their faces fairly grew radiant with satisfaction.
Having finished their meal, they spent an hour or more chatting
cheerfully, and congratulating themselves upon their comfortable
quarters. The same trim little servant then entered and signified her
readiness to show them to their sleeping-room.
Both felt their need of rest, and followed her to the apartment behind
the one they had first entered, where they found a soft and inviting
bed, hung with dainty white curtains, and everything fresh, sweet, and
clean. They retired to rest, and soon their senses were locked fast in
sound and refreshing slumber.