He gasped, and then he called softly, cautiously:
"Nanette! Ed—stop! It's Alan—"
It was Nanette and I, wandering lost.
CHAPTER XIII
THE TRAITOR
We stood together, there in the forest glen, for a minute or two exchanging swift whispers. The fellow Lentz—I did not know who he was then, unfortunately—stood a few feet from us. He was listening to the woods. Then he came to us.
"I thought we might have been heard. Was any one following you?" He addressed it to me.
Nanette and I had feared pursuit, but there had seemed none. We had tried to head south—Josefa had said she would direct our pursuers the other way. She was to have fired a shot—to make plausible her story that we had escaped her. We had heard no shot. Nor had Alan and Lentz. And in these silent woods the shot would have been heard plainly.
Nanette and I were wholly lost. I realized it when I tried to tell Alan which way we should go to reach the tower.