glimmered with the light of the cart lamps as the vehicle shambled
by. After a mile or so they dipped down between high hedges and
overarching trees that gave more response to their lights than the open
country, whose incommensurable blackness swallowed up their jigging,
feeble illumination.

"It smells like the inside of a flower-shop, doesn't it?" said May. "You
know, sort of bathroom smell. It must be glorious in the daytime."

"Yes, 'tis grand in summer time, sure enough," Trewhella agreed.

The declivity became more precipitous, and the farmer pulled up.

"Get down, you, boy Thomas, and lead Carver."

Thomas scrambled out, and with a loud "whoa" caught hold of the reins.

"It's like the first scene of a panto. You know, demons and all," said
Jenny.

Indeed, Thomas, with his orange-like head and disproportionately small
body, leading the great mare, whose breath hung in fumes upon the murky
air, had a scarcely human look. At the walking pace May was able to
distinguish ferns in the grass banks and pointed them out to Jenny, who,
however, was feeling anxious as in the steep descent the horse from time
to time slipped on a loose stone. Down they went, down and down through
the moisture and lush fernery. Presently they came to level ground and
the gurgle of running water. Trewhella pulled up for Thomas to clamber
in again. Beyond the rays of their lamps, appeared the outline of a
house.

"Is this a place?" Jenny asked.

"'Tis Tiddlywits," Trewhella answered. "Or belonged to be rather, for
there's nothing left of it now but a few mud walls. A wisht old place,
'tis."

On restarting, they splashed through a stream that flowed across the
road.

"Oo-er," cried Jenny, "take care, we're in the water."

Trewhella laughed loudly, and a moorhen waking in sudden panic rose with
a shrill cry from a belt of rushes.

"Oo-er, I'm getting frightened," said Jenny. "Put me down. Oh, May, I
wish we hadn't come."

Trewhella laughed louder than before. The wish appealed in its futility
to his humor.

Now came a slow pull up an equally deep lane, followed at the summit by
another stretch of open country very wild. Suddenly the mare swerved
violently. Jenny screamed. A long shape leaned over them in menace.

"Ah, look! Oh, no! I want to go back," she cried.

"Steady, you devil," growled Trewhella to the horse. "'Tis nothing, my
dear, nothing only an old stone cross."

"It gave me a shocking turn," said Jenny.

"It ma