“I saw the dogs on the bog a while ago—we are great friends.”
“You don’t know their owner?”
“No, I don’t,” came the answer from a little distance, where her companion had presumably found a seat.
Suddenly Vera, the lion-hearted and impulsive, made up her mind to take a bold step. With the supreme assurance of youth, she resolved to seize this priceless opportunity, and endeavour to open this young man’s eyes to the dangers of his situation.
“Is it not surprising,” she began, “that we two utter strangers should find ourselves imprisoned here in the dark?”
“Surprising things are said to happen on this particular spot,” was his unexpected answer. “They say it’s an old fairy rath, engulfed by the bog, and sometimes people can’t find their way off it. There is a way, of course—but it’s a bit of a puzzle. I expect your friends will be wondering what has become of you?”
“Oh no, they went for a long motor drive, and won’t be home before seven.”
“I think it’s a little after six, so we are stuck here for the best part of an hour. What shall we do—tell stories, or sing?—do you sing?”
“Yes, but I’d much rather talk.” As Vera could not see her listener, she felt surprisingly brave, and went on, “I have something to say to you.”
“To say to me?” His voice expressed bewilderment.