"What a horrid pickle and hobble I've got myself into!" she thought. The rain came down faster than ever, and suddenly there was a vivid streak of lightning and a loud crash of thunder. Dorothy screamed aloud, for thunder held terrors for her; yet even in the midst of her fright there was a grain of comfort—the bright flash had lit up the wood like an electric lamp, and had shown her, almost within a few yards, the stile for which she was seeking. Off she went in the direction where she had seen it, groping her way anyhow, and tearing her clothes on thorns and brambles.
She seemed to have arrived at a hedge, and she began to feel her way along it carefully, hoping to reach the stile. At last her hand touched a wooden bar; it was either the stile itself or a hurdle, she did not care which, if only she could climb over. It looked equally dark, however, on the other side; and even if she got into the field how was she ever to find the path to the high road? At this juncture she saw a small, rather flickering light moving through the gloom a little distance off. It must be a lantern, she thought; and whether the bearer were poacher, gipsy, or thief, she would summon him to help her out of her difficulty. She gave a lusty shriek, and went on calling at the top of her voice. The lantern stopped still for a moment, then, to her intense joy, began to move in her direction. At first she could see nothing but a yellow ring of light, then she made out a dark figure behind; and presently, as it came quite near, she recognized the ruddy face and stubby grey beard of Dr. Longton, who lived in Hurford village, nearly opposite the church. Dorothy's amazement at seeing the doctor was only equalled by his astonishment at finding her in such a predicament.
"My blessed child! What are you doing here?" he exclaimed.
"Oh, Dr. Longton, I'm so thankful it's you! I was sure you were a tramp, or a poacher, or somebody dreadful!" cried Dorothy hysterically.
"Nothing half so interesting; only a common or garden practitioner coming back from visiting a patient," he laughed. "You haven't told me what you're doing here. Give me your hand, and I'll help you over the fence."
"Trying to find a short cut, and losing my way," confessed Dorothy. "I thought I'd have to spend the night in the wood."
"A very unpleasant camping ground at this time of year! I've slept under the stars myself once or twice, but not in November. That was a loud peal of thunder! I think the storm's passing over—the rain has almost stopped."
With his lantern to guide them, the doctor escorted Dorothy to the door of Holly Cottage, and said good-bye with a twinkle in his eye.
"I won't ask inconvenient questions, but it strikes me you've been up to something, you young puss!" he said. "Take my advice, and stick to the 4.30 train in future. If your aunt scolds you, tell her I say you deserve it!"
Aunt Barbara did not scold—she was too relieved at her bairn's safe return to do anything except welcome and cosset the prodigal; but the look in her sweet eyes hurt Dorothy more than any reprimand.