The wind had
an edge of ice. He knew that mountains were the breeding place of storms
and he made another increase of speed in order that they might reach the
hunting lodge before one broke.
He had not heard a sound from the interior of the automobile since he
started. They were sitting only a few feet away, but the whistling of
the wind and the crunch of the wheels on the sanded road would have
drowned out all slight noises, and they did not speak, nor did he look
back.
He knew that they could see only a broad back in front of them and the
muffling coat and cap. He longed to say a word or two, but he deemed it
wisest to wait yet a while. His full attention was concentrated upon the
machine and the road and it was all the more necessary because the night
was growing darker and the wind cut.
But his confidence was so high that he handled the automobile through
all the dangers with a firm and sure hand. It sped on and on, climbing
in a rapid series of circles up the side of the mountain. Behind him the
gulf was filled with vapors and before him the clouds were growing
darker on the crest, but he could yet trace the road, and it would not
be long now until they reached the crest and the pine forest in which
the hunting lodge stood.
He wondered what kind of man the forester Muller would prove to be.
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