And where was D while these two ne'er-do-wells were plotting treachery
against their charge? He was galloping down the road, through the fog, on a
straight line from the spot where he’d encountered Benge. In the haze to
either side he could see shadowy images of the forest.

From up ahead, the wind carried something back. The creaking of a
carriage. The range was about a mile and a quarter. On a night that could
only be described as silent, could D’s ears catch sounds from such a great
distance?

His horse’s hoofs beat the earth with increased impetus. The fog became a
wall blocking him, then eddied away. Before long, a black carriage became
visible ahead. There was no sign of the escorts.

D made a break forward. Even if the escorts had been there, he would have
ridden forward without fear. On the far side of the carriage roof he could
see only the driver’s head. He was lashing away with a whip. D’s right hand
went to the sword on his back

4 - 3