“I think so, sir. Throw a light on, Ed. Why, yes, sir, here’s a bit of a dock.”
He cautiously floated the boat inshore and moored her alongside a little plank landing-stage.
“We must be near the hamlet,” said Larry. “Yes, there are the lights,” he added, parting the bushes and peering up the slope.
He sprang out, followed by Major Harding, who gave Lucy a hand, saying doubtfully: “I don’t like your going with us, Lucy. I don’t know where we are going, for that matter.”
“Up to the hamlet,” said Larry. “Or not really to it, but to that lonely little cottage this side of it. We’ve only a hundred yards to climb.”
“I’m not afraid, Major Harding,” said Lucy, still whispering. “I can’t feel frightened at meeting Elizabeth.”
“Come on,” said Larry, leading the way over the rough, rising ground. “Ed, you come, too. Rogers, stay with the boat.”
“How do you know they are in that cottage?” asked Major Harding. “While we’re climbing the hill they may give us the slip.”
“I don’t know why I’m sure, but I am,” declared Larry, refusing to be deterred. “Don’t you see what an ideal place it is for a secret meeting? And though it’s so lonely, they’ve taken the added precaution of lighting only one candle. Compare that faint glimmer with the lighted windows of the hamlet. And it’s the nearest house to the landing-stage. How are you, Lucy? Need a helping hand?”
“No, I’m all right.”