"Now I'm not going to stay in this haunted hole two seconds longer," proclaimed Gwethyn. "It's growing ever so dark, and Sir Ralph and Lady Margaret may come promenading out any time. I'd rather have burglars than ghosts."
"Right-o! We'll go across the stile here, and take a short cut home through the plantation," agreed Githa, leading the way.
CHAPTER XVIII
A Discovery
It was indeed high time for the girls to go home. The sun had set nearly an hour ago, and the dusk was creeping on to that particular stage when the law of the land requires cyclists to light up. They climbed the stile and plunged into the thick copse of young oaks and beeches. It was dim and mysterious and gloomy under the trees, a slight breeze had arisen, and the rustle of the leaves sounded like gentle footsteps.
"It's rather spooky and creepy," said Gwethyn. "I wish there were a moon."
"There is; but it's a new one. I saw it—a tiny thin crescent—when we were in the lane."
"Don't you feel rather like the Babes in the Wood? It's getting darker and darker. If we met the two villains I should certainly 'quake for fear'."
"We're not likely to meet anyone. It's Uncle's wood."
"I thought I heard footsteps."