ather's
sovereigns, called a cab, and had himself driven to the terminus, where
he took his ticket for the station beyond Furzebrough Road, and soon
after was on his way down into the wild part of Surrey.

CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

Sam Brandon timed himself so accurately that he was crossing the little
river-ford just as it was so dark that he could hardly make out the
stepping-stones. But he got over quite dry, and after a short walk on
the level, began to mount the sandy hill which formed part of the way
entering Furzebrough at the top end, and led him by the fork in the road
down one side of which his father had steered the bath-chair, and
plunged into the soft sand of the great pit.

It was a soft, silent time, and the place seemed to be terribly lonely
to one accustomed to the gas-lamps of London streets. The shadows under
the hedges were so deep that they appeared likely to hide lurkers who
might suddenly leap out to rob, perhaps murder, for with all his outward
show in bravado, Sam Brandon felt extremely uneasy consequent about the
mission which had brought him down there, and he at once decided that it
would be better to walk in the middle of the road.

Five minutes later he had to take the path again, for he met a horse and
cart, the driver shouting a friendly good-night, to which Sam responded
with a stifled cry of alarm, for he had nearly run against a man who
suddenly appeared in the darkness, but proved to be quite an inoffensive
personage bound for home.

Then as the crown of the hill was reached, there was the great gloomy
fir-wood, whose columns stood up quite close to the road, and under
whose shade Sam had to make his way toward the village, thinking deeply
the while, that after all his task was not so easy as it seemed before
he came down into the country.

"No fear of being seen though," he thought, as he went on, continually
on the look-out for danger to himself, but seeing none, hearing none,
till he was in the deepest part of the sandy lane, with the side of the
fir-wood on his right, a hedge-topped bank on the left.

It was darker now than ever; and as it was early yet for the work he had
in hand, he had slackened speed, and finally stopped short, hesitating
about going on.

"What a horrible, cut-throat-looking place!" he muttered, as he tried to
pierce the gloom which hid the beautifully--draped sand-banks dotted
with ferns, and made lovely by flowers at all times of the year. "Any