When they understood his intention, they consulted among themselves, and finally made him get up into one of the carts, and sit down on the bundles of arrows, which filled it like faggots.

Thus he was jolted along, the rude wheels fitting but badly on the axle, and often sinking deep into a rut.
They were now in thick forest, and the track was much narrower, so that it had become worn into a hollow, as if it were the dry bed of a torrent.

The horses and the carters were weary, yet they were obliged to plod on, as the arms had to be delivered before the morrow.

They spoke little, except to urge the animals.

Felix soon dropped into a reclining posture (uneasy as it was, it was a relief), and looking up, saw the white summer stars above.