At a little mountain village by the way, Roderick declared that he would stop; he would scramble about a little in the high places and doze in the shade of the pine forests.

The coach was changing horses; the two young men walked along the village street, picking their way between dunghills, breathing the light, cool air, and listening to the plash of the fountain and the tinkle of cattle-bells.

The coach overtook them, and then Rowland, as he prepared to mount, felt an almost overmastering reluctance.
"Say the word," he exclaimed, "and I will stop too." Roderick frowned.

"Ah, you don't trust me; you don't think I 'm able to take care of myself.

That proves that I was right in feeling as if I were watched!" "Watched, my dear fellow!" said Rowland.