"The will of God be done!" said Wilbur, and laughed again.
CHAPTER 26
She was ready, crouched close to the window of her room, when the
signal came, but first she was not sure, because the sound was as
faint as a memory. Moreover, it might have been a freakish whistling
in the wind, which rose stronger and stronger. It had piled the
thunder-clouds higher and higher, and now and again a heavy drop of
rain tapped at her window like a thrown pebble.
So she waited, and at last heard the whistle a second time,
unmistakably clear. In a moment she was hurrying down to the stable,
climbed into the saddle, and rode at a cautious trot out among the
sand-hills.
For a time she saw no one, and commenced to fear that the whole thing
had been a gruesomely real, practical jest. So she stopped her horse
and imitated the signal whistle as well as she could. It was repeated
immediately behind her--almost in her ear, and she turned to make out
the dark form of a tall horseman.
"A bad night for the start," called Wilbur.
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