g across the woods in another
direction; the air was soon visibly more free of smoke. The
driver was hopeful, and sending his horses along at a good
pace. The shower withinside dried up; and Rollo throwing
himself back upon the seat gazed steadfastly out of the
window. Wych Hazel had gazed at him while he spoke to the
others, with a sort of examining curiosity in her brown eyes
that was even amused; but now she became as intent as himself
on affairs outside of the coach.

For a while all was quiet. Mrs. Saddler sat in brown
stupefaction after having received such rebukes, and no more
apples were brought forward on the front seat. The women
whispered together and watched their fellow-travellers--Rollo
especially. But at length it became evident to the keener
observers of the party that the air was thickening again; the
smell of burning woods which filled the air was growing more
pungent, the air more warm; those visible waves of the blue
atmosphere began to appear again. Once Mr. Falkirk leaned
forward as if to address Rollo; he thought better of it and
fell back without speaking. And on they went. The smell of
burning and the thick stifling smoke became very oppressive.

'There is a large tract on fire, Rollo,' Mr. Falkirk remarked
at length.

'Probably.'

In another minute the coach halted. Rollo put his head out of
the window to speak to the coachman, and the cool tone in
which he asked, 'What is it?' Wych Hazel felt at the time and
remembered afterwards. The driver's answer was unheard by all
but one. Rollo threw himself out.

'Stay where you are,' he said to Mr. Falkirk as he shut the
door. 'You keep order and I'll make order.'

He went forward. The coach stood still, with that fearful
wreathing of the blue vapour thicker and nearer around it. The
smell became so strong that the thought forced itself upon
every one, they must have come upon the fire again. The woman
wanted to get out. Mr. Falkirk dissuaded them. Wych Hazel kept
absolutely still. In a moment or two Rollo appeared at Mr.
Falkirk's side of the coach, and spoke rather low. 'I am going
to make explorations. Keep all as you are.'

Mr. Falkirk spoke lower still. 'Is the fire ahead?'

The answer was not in English or French. Looking from her
window as far as she could, Wych Hazel now saw Rollo cross the
road and make for a tall pine which stood at a little
distance. She saw him throw his coat and hat on the ground;
then catching one of the lo