"Now, the question is shall we turn to the right or the left, for we
have not the faintest idea as to the points of the compass. What do
you say, Mr. Fitzgibbon?"
"I should say that it is an even chance; but at any rate whichever way
we go we are sure to come in time upon a hut or village, and be able
to find out where we are."
"Very well, then; we will take the right," Ralph said. "Form fours,
sergeant. We shall get on better by keeping in step. Now, sergeant, if
any of the men can sing let him strike up a tune with a chorus. That
will help us along."
There was a little hesitation, and then one of the men struck up a
song, and with renewed life and energy they all marched along. It was
nearly an hour before they heard the welcome sound of voices close by.
Ralph halted his men and proceeded toward this sound, and then
discovered what the fog had prevented them from seeing before, that
they were passing through a village, the voices being those of some
women who were brought to their doors by the sound of music, and who
were somewhat puzzled at the, to them, mysterious sounds."
"What place is this?" Ralph asked.
"It is Kilmaknocket."
"Bless me!" Mr. Fitzgibbon exclaimed, "we are twenty miles away from
Ballyporrit if we are an inch."
"Then it's evident we can't get there to-day," Ralph said.
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