He must have previously turned wrongly somewhere--and where?
A light in a cottage invited him to apply for the needed directions.

The door was opened by a woman, who had never heard tell of The Crossways, nor had her husband, nor any of the children crowding round them.

A voice within ejaculated: 'Crassways!' and soon upon the grating of a chair, an old man, whom the woman named her lodger, by way of introduction, presented himself with his hat on, saying: 'I knows the spot they calls Crassways,' and he led.
Redworth understood the intention that a job was to be made of it, and submitting, said: 'To the right, I think.' He was bidden to come along, if he wanted 'they Crassways,' and from the right they turned to the left, and further sharp round, and on to a turn, where the old man, otherwise incommunicative, said: 'There, down thik theer road, and a post in the middle.' 'I want a house, not a post!' roared Redworth, spying a bare space.
The old man despatched a finger travelling to his nob.

'Naw, there's ne'er a house.

But that's crassways for four roads, if it 's crassways, you wants.' They journeyed backward.