That and the growing darkness decided her. Hastily scribbling a note to be left with the woman in case Gertrude and Cecil turned up, she hurried away.
It was not a pleasant walk. The sea sounded mournfully at the foot of the rocks below her, and the darkness under the trees was not reassuring, and seemed to fall deeper each moment. She wished she had taken the upper, though much longer road, or that she had started half an hour earlier and left Gertrude and Cecil to their own devices. Even when the moon, the great round moon, came up out of the sea and shone through the trees upon her path, it only seemed to make the shadows blacker and more eerie, till she remembered that it was the Easter moon, and thought of Him who had knelt beneath the trees of Gethsemane under that moon, on this night of His agony.
After that, thinking of Him, she did not feel afraid, and at last she rang at Mrs. Henchman's door.
Audrey ran out to open it.
"Well! I thought you were never coming! Where are the others?"
"I don't know," said Denys, "I can't think."
CHAPTER VI.
A TICKET FOR ONE.
As Cecil very justly observed to Gertrude, it was a perfect afternoon for a ride, and the two went gaily along the upper road to the Landslip, till they came to a sign-post in a place where four roads met.