Although the sun had not set when Rupert and Hugh rode into the forest on their return journey, they had not been long among the trees when the light began to fade.

The foliage met overhead, and although above the sky seemed still bright, the change was distinctly felt in the gloom of the forest.

The ride had been a long one, and Rupert feared to press his horse, consequently they wound but slowly up the hill, and by the time they reached its crest, it was night.
"This is unpleasant, Hugh, for I can scarcely see my horse's head; and as there are several tracks crossing this, we are likely enough to go wrong." "I think, Master Rupert, we had better dismount and lead our horses.

We shall break our necks if they tread on a stone on this rocky path." For half an hour they walked on in silence, then Hugh said, "I think we are going wrong, Master Rupert, for we are not descending now; and we ought to have been at the foot of the hill, if we had been right, by this time." "I am afraid you are right, Hugh.

In that case we had better make up our minds to halt where we are till morning.