Trenholme, whose nerves were perhaps more susceptible than usual by reason of the creature set at large by the opening of the coffin, wondered that Turrif should leave his wife and children alone so willingly, without any effort to bar the house and without objection on their part.  He knew there was no other house within half a mile, and the darkness that lay on the flat land appeared to give room for a thousand dangers.

He expressed this surprise to Turrif, who replied placidly that the good saints took care of women and children—­a reply which probably did not go to prove the man’s piety so much as the habitual peace of the neighbourhood.

The vehicle to which Turrif had harnessed his pony was a small hay cart—­that is to say, a cart consisting of a platform on two wheels, and a slight paling along each side intended to give some support to its contents.  It was much more lightly made than Saul’s ox-cart.  The wheels went over the frozen ruts at a good pace, and the inmates were badly jolted.  Trenholme would rather have walked, but he had already observed that the Canadian rustic never walked if he could possibly avoid it, and he supposed there must be some reason for this in the nature of the country.  The jolting made talking disagreeable; indeed, when he attempted conversation he found his words reminded him forcibly of times when, in the nursery of his childhood, he had noticed the cries of baby companions gradually grow less by reason of the rapid vibrations of the nurse’s knee.  He kept silence therefore, and wondered whether Turrif or the pony was guiding, so carelessly did they go forth into the darkness, turning corners and avoiding ghostly fences with slovenly ease.

It soon appeared that Turrif knew no more than Trenholme where to find Saul; his only method of seeking was to inquire at each house.  It was not, however, necessary to go into each house; the cart was only brought sufficiently near upon the road for a lusty shout to reach the family inside.  The first house Trenholme hardly saw in the darkness; at one or two others he had a good view of the interior through an open door or window.  From each door men and boys, sometimes women and children, sallied forth eagerly into the cold night to see what was wanted, and to each inquiry the phlegmatic Turrif repeated Trenholme’s tale.  Trenholme would have given a good deal to be able fully to understand what was said.  There was much conversation.  From each house one or two men joined them, and in one case, from a squalid-looking doorway, a loud-speaking and wilful girl came out and insisted on getting into the cart.  She talked to the men and shrieked loudly when any object, such as a barn or a tree, loomed dimly at the side of the road.  Two of the men brought a lantern and walked behind.  When they came to the house whose roof was found to cover Saul, a party of eight entered to hear and pronounce upon his explanation.  Certainly, if Trenholme had had the management of the business, he would not have proceeded in this fashion, but he had no choice.