"Where do you live? Near where we saw you playing cricket?"
"Farther, much farther."
The man whistled.
"You couldn't get halfway there before dark, even if you know these goat tracks, which I don't believe you do, do you?"
"No," admitted the boy.
"Neither do we. We might wander all night. We certainly should not think of your going alone. I'll tell you what you can do: you come home with us for the night. We're quite respectable; don't be alarmed. My married sister is there with her children, quite large kiddies, your own age in fact. She can squeeze you in, I know, and then to-morrow morning we shall make it our first duty to see you home."
"But father will not know where we are," said Nancy doubtfully. "He will be angry."
"He will be worse than angry if you are lost, Miss Nancy, and I see no hope of our finding the way there at this time of day. At home, perhaps, I can find a messenger who can take a letter to him. That will keep him from worrying."
Edward seemed eager to accept the invitation, but Nancy still hesitated.
"Don't fear, Nancy," said Beresford kindly, divining her fears; "in any case we are not going to desert you. If you say the word, we'll try to get you home to-night, though I don't think it can be done. If you come home with us I can assure you of a merry time. Mr. Nasmith's sister's children—excuse the mouthful—are really very jolly and full of fun. You mustn't judge them by their uncle. You will have the time of your life, and nothing will please them better than to have two visitors. They'll want every last word of your adventure. What do you say?"