“Not of our journey, mother,” said Julia in agitated tones; “but of—a listener.”
“Hist!” whispered Mrs Hallam, drawing back; and the window which she had opened swung to with a faint click, as the firm pace of Crellock was heard coming along the verandah; and as they stood there in the darkness they could see the dim figure pass the window.
Had he stretched forth a hand, he would have felt the glass door yield, and have entered and found them there; and, knowing this, they stood listening to the beating of their hearts till the figure passed on and they heard the step of the self-constituted sentry grow faint on the other side of the house.
“Julie, are you ready?”
“Yes, mother; let us go—anywhere, so that I may not see that man again.”
Mrs Hallam uttered a sigh of relief, for her child’s words had supplied her once more with the power that was failing.
“It is for her sake,” she muttered again. Then, in a low whisper: “Quick! your hand. Come.” And they stepped out into the verandah, drew the door to without daring to stop to catch it, and the next minute they were threading their way amongst the trees of the garden, and making for the gate.
The darkness was now intense, and though the faint twinkling of lights showed them the direction of the town, they had not gone far before they found themselves astray from the path, and after wandering here and there for a few minutes, Mrs Hallam paused in dread, for she found that there was now another enemy in her way upon which she had not counted.
She spoke very calmly, though, as Julia uttered a gasp.
“The wind is rising,” she said, “and it will soon grow lighter. Let us keep on.”