"You found it readily, George?" she whispered. "Quite so. It is in a straight line from the inn."
"Are you going back to Stilborough to-night?"
"No. I shall sleep at the Dolphin, and go back to-morrow."
He offered his sister-in-law his arm. She took it; but the next moment relinquished it again. "It may be better not, George," she said. "It is not very likely that we shall meet people, but it's not impossible: and, to see me walking thus familiarly with a stranger would excite comment."
They turned to go up the hill. It was safer than Chapel Lane, as Charlotte observed; for there was no knowing but Mr. Harry Castlemaine might be going through the lane to the Commodore's, whose company both father and son seemed to favour. Mr. Castlemaine was at Stilborough: had driven over in the morning, and was no doubt staying there to dine.
"This seems to be a lonely road," remarked Mr. North, as they went on side by side.
"It is very lonely. We rarely meet any one but the preventive-men: and not often even one of them."
Almost in silence they continued their way until opposite the coastguard-station: a short line of white dwellings lying at right angles with the road on the left hand. Turning off to the right, across the waste land on the other side the road, they soon were on the edge of the cliff, with the sea lying below.
"We may walk and talk here in safety," said Charlotte. "There is never more than one man on duty: his beat is a long one, all down there"--pointing along the line of coast in the opposite direction to that of Greylands--"and we shall see him, should he approach, long before he could reach us. Besides, they are harmless and unsuspicious, these coastguardsmen; they only look out for ships and smugglers."
"We do not get a very good view of the sea from here: that high cliff on the right is an impediment," remarked Mr. North. "What a height it is!"