Julia stood in the vibrant shelter of the pines, pushing back her hair; she was bareheaded; a hat had been an impossible superfluity when she started out.
"Johnny," she said, "we have come too far; father could not have got to the trees in such weather as it was when he started; we must go back. I expect he is somewhere nearer home; we have not half searched the possible radius yet."
Johnny said "Yes." He was dog-tired, so tired that his anxiety was now little more than dull despair animated by an unquestioning determination to continue the search.
He would have done so somehow, and with his flagging energies been more hindrance than help, had not Julia prevented him; as they neared the house, now almost merged in the dusk, she said—
"I am going to fetch a lantern; the moon will be up soon, but until then I shall want a light. I am just coming in to get it, then I shall go out again; but you must stop at home; father may come back, and if he found us both out after dark he would think something was wrong and start to look for us; then we should be worse off than ever."
Johnny said "Yes"; but suggested, "I think we'd better look round about the house once more. I think I'll take a light and look round again."
Julia did not think it would be much use; however she consented, though she had to go with Johnny; she did not trust him with a lantern among the out-buildings. They looked round once more, in the sheds and in the dark garden; afterwards they went out and looked beyond the wall all round, on the side where the heather grew and also on the side where the loose sand came close. It took time; Johnny was too tired to move quickly or even to understand quickly what was said to him. At last Julia stopped and spoke decisively.
"You had better go in now," she said; "it won't do for us both to be out any longer; one of us must go in, and I think it had better be you. Make a good fire, see that there is plenty of hot water and get something to eat so as to be ready to do things when I come back."
Johnny acquiesced and Julia, having watched him into the house, took up her lantern and set out in the direction of the sandhills.
It was her last resource; it did not seem to her likely that her father could have gone there; at the best of times he disliked the place, finding it very tiring. Still, with the wind behind him as it would have been this morning, it is possible he would have found it the easiest way—if he could have managed to forget what the coming back would be. At all events she determined to try it, so she set out for the waste.