Argosy: The Short Story Magazine — page 111: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE CHRYSALIDS III “You, too,” Rosalind directed. ‘‘ We’d better keep together. There’s room in the other pannier.”” She flipped over a kind of miniature rope-ladder so that it hung down the greathorse’s left shoulder. I turned the mare’s head for home, and gave her a smack on the flank to start her off. After I had handed up the rest of the things I scrambled into the other pannier. The moment my foot was clear of the mounting-rungs Rosalind pulled them up and hitched them. She gave the reins a shake, and before I was well settled in the pannier we were off, with the led horse following. We trotted awhile, and then left the track for a stream. Where that was joined by another we branched up the lesser one. We left that and picked our way across boggy ground to another stream. We went down that a little, and turned onto another lot of marshy ground, which gradually became firmer until the hoofs were clinking against stones. We slowed still more as the great- horse picked its way among rocks. Evidently Rosalind had been doing some careful planning. I must have projected that thought, for she came in with, “‘ It’s a pity that you didn’t think more and sleep less.” **T made a start,’ I protested. ‘“‘ I was going to get everything fixed today. It didn’t seem so urgent.” ‘**So when I tried to consult you, you’d gone to sleep. My mother and I spent two solid hours packing these panniers and getting the saddles slung up ready for an emergency, while all you did was sleep.”’ | “Your mother?” I asked, startled, “‘ does she know? ” ** She’s known, or guessed something, for a long time. I don’t know how much. Somehow I knew that she’d made up her mind to help me when the time came, and she did.”’ I thought that over. It made one wonder whether there might not be many mothers turning a blind eye to anything that did not actually infringe the definitions—and perhaps to things that did, if the Inspector could be dodged. We went on by the erratic route that Rosalind had planned to hide the trail. There were more stony places and more streams until finally we urged the horses up a steep bank and into the woods. Before long we encountered a trackway running south- west, and kept along parallel with it until the sky began to show grey. Then we turned deeper into the woods, and found a glade where there was grass for the horses. After our meal of bread and cheese Rosalind said, “‘ Since you slept so well earlier on, you’d better take the first watch.” She and Petra settled themselves comfortably in blankets and soon dropped off. I sat with my bow across my knees, and half a dozen arrows stuck handy in the ground. There was nothing to be heard but the birds, an occasional small animal moving some- where, and the munching sounds of the greathorses. Presently the sun gave more warmth. Every now and then I got up and comiclooks.comnn