The gate of the horse paddock through which Heathcote must pass on his way home was nearly a mile distant; but the road there was hard, and they knew that they could hear from there the fall of his horse's feet.

There they stood from seven to nearly eight, whispering a word now and then to each other, listening always, but in vain.

Looking away to the west every now and then, they fancied that they could see the sky glow with flames, and then they would tell each other that it was fancy.

The evening grew darker and still darker, but no sound was heard through the moaning wind.

From time to time Mrs.Growler came out to them, declaring her fears in no measured terms.