It would have been dark by this time, except for the light of a bright young moon which was hanging like a silver bow over the church spire; Jupiter, a little in advance of the moon, in a clear blue sky.
"I am sorry I missed you, my dear," Mrs. Atherton said. "Come to-morrow, if you can, about four o'clock. I have been to see a dear little boy who is suffering great pain from a burn. I have dressed it for him, and he is better."
"I brought back the paper you lent me," Salome said.
"It is too late for the north post to-day; but never mind. Good-bye," and Mrs. Atherton's alert steps were soon out of hearing as she walked quickly up the garden to the house.
"Reginald, let us go round by the upper road and down at the back of Elm Cottage; it is so fine and bright, and I feel in a better temper."
"Make haste then," said Reginald; "for Digby said something about coming to tea. He had to go home first."
The brother and sister walked fast; and Reginald told Salome a long and rather involved history of a football match, and said he hoped soon to work up into the first fifteen. The road at the back of Elm Cottage took a sudden dip down towards an excavation from which stone for building had been taken some years before; but the particular vein had been exhausted, and the quarry was deserted, and made a circular outlet from the road of some thirty feet, overhung with brambles and ivy. As Reginald and Salome passed this quarry they heard voices. Something familiar in the tone of one speaker made Salome slacken her pace.
"Reginald, I am sure that was Raymond speaking. Look back. Who is it?"
Reginald turned, and distinctly saw two figures at the entrance of the quarry—two men or boys.
"I don't think it is Raymond."