She was no longer the mysterious, defiant, unafraid person who had held him in a sort of awe that first hour in Kedsty's place.
For she was crumpled against him now, utterly dependent and afraid.

In that chaos of storm something told him that her nerve was broken, that without him she would be lost and would cry out in fear.

AND HE WAS GLAD! He held her tighter; he bent his head until his face touched the wet, crushed hair under the edge of her turban.

And then the lightning split open the night again, and he saw the way ahead of him to the trail.
Even in darkness it was not difficult to follow in the clean-cut wagon path.

Over their heads the tops of the poplars swished and wailed.
Under their feet the roadway in places was a running stream or inundated until it became a pool.