“I can’t hear any one,” whispered Mark.
“No.”
“Must have gone on.”
Bevis crept forward, still holding Pan with one hand; Mark followed, and they crossed the mound, when the signs of some one having recently been there became visible in the trampled nettles, and in one spot there was the imprint of a heel-plate.
“Savages,” said Bevis. “Ah! Look.”
Mark looked through the branches and a long way out in the stubble, moving among the shocks of wheat, he saw Bevis’s governor. They watched him silently. The governor walked straight away; they scarcely breathed till he had disappeared in the next field. Then they drew back into the Waste, and looked at one another.
“Very nearly done,” said Mark.
“We won’t land again in daylight,” said Bevis.
“No—it’s not safe; he must have been close.”
“He must have got up into the mound and looked through,” said Bevis. “Perhaps while we were by the gate.”