Their way was through pleasant lanes towards the south, but
constantly approaching the hills. About half a mile from
Thirlwall, they crossed a little river, not more than thirty
yards broad, and after that the twilight deepened fast. The
shades gathered on field and hill; everything grew brown, and
then dusky; and then Ellen was obliged to content herself with
what was very near, for further than that she could only see
dim outlines. She began again to think of their slow
travelling, and to wonder that Mr. Van Brunt could be content
with it. She wondered, too, what made him walk, when he might
just as well have sat in the cart; the truth was, he had
chosen that for the very purpose that he might have a good
look at the little queen in the arm-chair. Apparently,
however, he, too, now thought it might be as well to make a
little haste, for he thundered out some orders to his oxen,
accompanied with two or three strokes of his heavy lash,
which, though not cruel by any means, went to Ellen's heart.
"Them lazy critters won't go fast anyhow," said he to Ellen;
"they will take their own time; it ain't no use to cut them."
"Oh, no! Pray don't, if you please!" said Ellen, in a voice of
earnest entreaty.
" 'Tain't fair, neither," continued Mr. Van Brunt, lashing his
great whip from side to side without touching anything. "I
have seen critters that would take any quantity of whipping to
make them go, but them 'ere ain't of that kind; they'll work
as long as they can stand, poor fellows!"
There was a little silence, during which Ellen eyed her rough
charioteer, not knowing exactly what to make of him.
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