He admired the summary
way in which he had disposed of the extortionate inn-keeper, and now
looked after him almost in despair; for he did not think the party
left behind by any means fit to take care of themselves or each other.
L'Isle he did not understand and mistrusted, doubting whether he were
merely idly rambling about the country, or harbored some covert
design, the object of which was Lady Mabel, of course.
"My Lady," said he, riding up beside her, and speaking in an under
tone, "this is not the road we traveled coming from Elvas. Where are
you going to now?"
Remarking his dissatisfied air, and the look of suspicion he cast on
L'Isle, she answered, with provoking coolness, "Oh, we are merely
rambling about; any road is the right one, if it but leads to a new
place."
"But now the commissary has left us, do you not mean to go back to
Elvas?"
"In returning we will make a detour."
"And what is a detour?" asked Moodie, with a puzzled air.
"It means going back the longest way. We have plenty of leisure, for
the campaign will not open directly."
"I would like to know what you, my Lady, have to do with the opening
of the campaign?"
"A great deal, and so have you; for, as soon as it does open, you and
I must march back to Scotland.
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