'Barton? How far is that?' asked Mr. Turton.
'Five miles, isn't it, Uncle?' she answered.
'Five and a half,' he said. 'You keep bearing to your right.'
'But,' suggested Augustus, 'I feel certain Everard disappeared about here.'
'Is that his name?' asked Jacintha.
'Yes, Jack Everard.'
'Perhaps he has gone down through a trap-door,' said Jacintha with a laugh, and Augustus sniggered in return. How I wished there had only been Augustus to deal with, with perhaps Jacintha to look on during the process. But it would not have been his boots that I should have blacked!
'Uncle!' cried Jacintha, 'do you remember the steep lane we passed on our left?—that would be on your right,' she added, evidently turning to Mr. Turton.
'What about it?' he asked.
'There was a finger-post which said "Pathway to Barton." If they were to take that path don't you think they would get to Barton more quickly?'