"How cold it is!" the latter exclaimed, as they rose to their feet and looked around; "But there's no sun this side of the Tor—that's how it is."
A faint blue mist was creeping over the hills. Jack noticed it with an uneasy sensation; it looked so like the mist of evening.
"Let us go around to the sunny side," Theodore suggested, with a shiver; "and then perhaps we had better start for home. It seems later than I thought."
"But there is no sun," Jack said. "I think it must have set whilst we were in the cave."
"Then we must go at once. Let me see—which way did we come up?"
"I—I don't know," Jack acknowledged falteringly.
The boys looked at each other in dismay. In which direction lay the village of Naraton? Neither could tell. But Theodore did not want to allow he was as ignorant as his companion. He peremptory bade his stepbrother follow him, and started clambering down the Tor. It had been a difficult climb up; it was far more difficult going down. Once Jack stumbled, but though he cut his knees, he said it was nothing, manfully shaking off the feeling of faintness which threatened to overcome him. At last, however, he was obliged to ask Theodore to allow him a few minutes to rest; and the two boys sat down, whilst the faint blue mist crept nearer and nearer, and a sense of despair took possession of each young heart.
"Oh, Jack!" said Theodore, with a catch in his breath which sounded very like a sob, "what shall we do? We shall never get home?"
"Oh, yes, we shall," Jack replied reassuringly, "we'll start again in a moment."
"But I don't know the way!" Theodore confessed.