"We are going a little way with you, Mistress Farleigh," called Winifred.

"May I go, Mother?" Ruth added.

Aunt Deborah was evidently greatly pleased that the little girls had wished to go a little way with her on her journey home, and Mrs. Pernell smiled and nodded her consent, thinking that Ruth would be safely back in an hour at the longest, and waving her good-byes as Farmer Withal climbed to his seat and the brown horse trotted off, closely followed by Fluff.

Down the street they went, turning now into the broader highway and at last reaching the river road that led straight to Mat son's Ford, beyond which the road led on to Valley Forge.

As they came in sight of the river the big horse stopped, and in a moment Fluff was beside the farmer's cart. Aunt Deborah smiled down at the little girls.

"'Tis best that thee turn toward home now. And I thank thee both for coming so far with me. 'Twill not be long now, Ruth, before I hope to see thee at Barren Hill. And thee, Winifred, will be welcome also whenever thou canst give me the pleasure of a visit."

Before Aunt Deborah had finished speaking Ruth was out of the pony carriage and standing on the step of Farmer Withe's cart holding up a package.

"Here is something I made for you, Aunt Deborah," she said. Aunt Deborah reached down and received the small carefully wrapped package.

"Thank thee, dear child," she said, and Ruth stood by the roadside and waved a good-bye as the brown horse trotted off at a more rapid pace than he had traveled through the town.

"I wish we could have gone farther," she said regretfully as she went back to her seat beside Winifred.

"Well, we can. We'll turn up that shady road and see where it goes,"

responded Winifred. "What did you give your aunt?"

"A needle-book. Mother helped me make it. It is of blue flannel, with embroidered edges, and shaped like a small book, with Aunt Deborah's initials on the cover," said Ruth. "Would it not be pleasant if you could visit Aunt Deborah when I do?"

Winifred feared that such a visit would not be possible. But the two little friends talked of many things as Fluff trotted along the narrow country road, hardly more than a lane, and sheltered by closely growing trees. Now and then the road came out into an open s.p.a.ce, and there would be many violets growing close to the roadside. Then the girls sprang from the cart and gathered handfuls of the fragrant blossoms, while Fluff nibbled at the gra.s.s, or twisted his head to watch his young mistress. The wild honeysuckle was also in bloom along a sloping pasture, and Ruth was eager to gather it to take home to her mother. She climbed up the rough slope, followed by Winifred, and they soon had large bunches of the delicate blossoms. From the top of the little hill that they had climbed they could see the distant line of the blue river, and after roaming about for a time they decided it was time to return to Fluff and start for home. The pony whinnied a little impatiently and shook his head at them as they approached.

"He thinks we have stayed too long," said Winifred laughingly. "What time do you suppose it is, Ruth?"

"Oh! we can't have been away from home more than an hour," said Ruth; "but the sky looks cloudy, doesn't it?"

But it was not clouds that made the sky darken, it was the rapidly approaching twilight. The tall trees shut out the golden spring sunshine; and the afternoon had pa.s.sed so pleasantly that neither Ruth nor Winifred had any idea that evening was close at hand, or that they were miles from home in a solitary and unknown road that had seemed to grow more narrow as they went on.

"Perhaps we had better turn around now," suggested Winifred a few moments after they had gathered the wild honeysuckle. "I told Mother we would be home early. Why, what is the matter with Fluff?" she added in a startled tone, for the little pony had come to a full stop.

Both the little girls jumped out of the cart and ran to the pony's head, which drooped low. Fluff was breathing heavily, and it seemed to Winifred as if his slender legs trembled.

"Why, he can't be tired. He had that long rest just now," said Ruth anxiously. Neither of them realized that ever since leaving the river the road had run steadily up-hill, or that the pony had been traveling for a number of hours. Fluff was no longer young, and he had never been required to go long distances; and now he could go no further.

"I'll take off his harness," said Winifred quickly. "I hope he isn't going to have a fit. Ned Farris's pony has fits." It did not take her long to set Fluff free from the pony-cart, and he turned a grateful look toward his little mistress, who began to wish there was a brook or spring near at hand where the little creature could drink.

Ruth smoothed Fluff's head, and Winifred with a bunch of wayside gra.s.s rubbed his back and legs.

"He's going to lie down," said Winifred as Fluff moved his head about quickly; and in a moment the tired little creature had stretched himself at their feet.

"What shall we do? I am sure Fluff can't take us home," exclaimed Winifred, "and we can't go and leave him here."

"It can't be very far from home," responded Ruth. "I could go home and tell Gilbert, and he would come right back for you with Ned's pony."

"But what could we do with Fluff?" asked Winifred a little despondently.

"He is too tired to drive home."

"Perhaps he'd be rested enough by that time to go home, if he didn't have to pull the cart," said Ruth; "anyway, I do think one of us ought to go home or our mothers will think some harm has befallen us. I'll stay, if you would rather go."

But Winifred shook her head. She did not wish to leave the pony; neither was she pleased at the thought of staying by herself on that lonely road. At last, however, they decided that Ruth's plan was the best they could think of, and Ruth started.

"I'll hurry all the way, Winifred; and Gilbert will come back as fast as he can," she called as she started to run down the hill.

CHAPTER XII

A LONG RIDE

"I wish we had brought Hero," thought Ruth regretfully as she hurried down the shadowy road, "then he could have come with me for company."

For at the last moment before leaving home the little girls had decided that it was not best to let Hero accompany them. There was not room for him in the pony-cart, and for him to race along the streets might well mean that he would again disappear; so Ruth had been quite ready to leave him at home. But now she would have been very glad to have him running along beside her. "Josephine" and "Cecilia" had also been left behind; in fact neither Winifred nor Ruth had remembered the dolls until after they had said good-bye to Aunt Deborah. And, while Ruth was regretting the absence of Hero, Winifred, sitting close beside Fluff, was wishing that her beloved Josephine was there to keep her company.

"It would be a great adventure for Josephine," she thought, looking up through the overhanging branches of the big oak under which Fluff had stopped to rest. For a time she amused herself by braiding the long gra.s.s and weaving it about green twigs broken from an elder-bush until she had made a wide, shallow basket with a handle. Into this she put the violets and wild honeysuckle, resolving to take it home as a present to her mother. She put it carefully under the seat of the pony-cart, and then decided to search for a spring or brook, for she was thirsty.

Fluff showed no signs of wishing to start for home, or even to eat the tempting young gra.s.s growing near.

"If I find a brook perhaps I can lead him, and then he will get a good drink," thought Winifred, crossing the narrow road and pushing aside a thick growth of wild shrubs.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, for she had stepped at once on to damp yielding moss which covered her low cut slippers and whetted her feet as completely as if she had stepped into a brook. Just beyond this moss lay a clear little pool of water, evidently fed by springs.

Winifred discovered that the farther, or upper, bank of the pool was dry and sandy, and in a few moments she was kneeling beside the clear water and drinking thirstily. She then made her way back to the road, breaking down branches of the shrubs to make a way for Fluff, who was now on his feet looking about as if in search of his little mistress.

"Come on, Fluff," she said coaxingly, grasping the plume-like mane.

"Come and have a drink." The pony moved forward obediently. He hesitated a moment at having to push his way through the undergrowth, but with Winifred encouraging and urging him forward he was soon in sight of the pool, and then sprang forward so suddenly that his mane slid through Winifred's hands and she found herself on her hands and knees while Fluff, with his nose in the clear water, was drinking thirstily.

Winifred laughed as she scrambled to her feet. Her shoes and stockings were wet and muddy, her pretty blue linen dress was torn, and now she realized that her hat was gone, that she must have lost it in pushing her way through the undergrowth; but these things seemed of small consequence to Winifred just then; for the pony, with his forefeet planted firmly in the shallow water, was evidently more himself than he had been since he had stopped short under the oak tree.

"I'll lead him back and harness him into the cart and start after Ruth,"

thought his little mistress happily, "and I do believe it is getting dark!" she added aloud, realizing that the woods seemed very shadowy, as she made her way toward the pool.

As she came near Fluff he lifted his head from the water, shook himself much as a big dog would do, and whinnied with satisfaction. But as Winifred approached more closely he gave a little dancing step into the water just beyond her reach.

"Oh, Fluff! It isn't any time to play games. We must start for home before it is really dark," said Winifred. But Fluff was now rested, and free from his harness in a fragrant shadowy wood. He was sure that his little mistress must be as ready as himself for a game, so he edged along the pool until a clear s.p.a.ce opened before him, and then he stepped out, and trotted briskly away between the tall trees.

"Fluff! Fluff!" called Winifred, running after him. "Oh! where did he go?" for the pony had disappeared as if the earth had swallowed him.

Winifred ran on until her way was blocked by thickly growing underbrush.

Then she turned back, but now she could not find the pool. The shadows deepened; she could hardly distinguish one tree from another, and there was no sound or sign from the gray pony.

"What shall I do?" she said, standing close to the trunk of a pine tree that rose straight and tall with wide-spreading branches. She realized that she must now be some distance from the road and the big oak tree where she had left the pony-cart, and Fluff perhaps was deep in this wilderness, unable to make his way back; and, worst of all, night was close upon her.

It was indeed a dangerous position for a little girl to be alone in a wilderness as Winifred found herself. It was a time when many wild beasts still wandered about, often coming near to the outskirts of towns and villages. Winifred remembered that only a few weeks earlier a catamount had been killed at Fair Mount, and she knew that in the early spring bears left the dens where they had slept through the winter, and wandered through the woods eating the tender young buds and leaves. She crouched closer to the tree as she remembered these things, and then suddenly she recalled the words that she had worked on her sampler: "There shall no evil befall thee. For he shall give his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all thy ways."

Her mother had traced the words, and Winifred had worked them in dull blue yarns on the perforated wool cloth. She said them over aloud: "No evil befall thee," and was no longer afraid. She did not think now of the beasts of the dark wood, but of a kindly presence that would shelter her.