The Roshers lived in a small cottage some distance down the lane in which six months ago Jeffreys had first encountered the sunshine of their presence.

How long ago it seemed now! Ah! that was the very bank on which he sat; and there beyond was the railway embankment at which the navvies were working, now finished and with the grass growing up its sides.
Trimble's little heart jumped to his mouth as he saw the man he was following stop abruptly and begin to climb the bank.

He was too close behind to be able to turn back.

All he could do was to crouch down in the ditch and "lie low." He heard Jeffreys as he gained the top of the bank sigh wearily; then he seemed to be moving as if in search of a particular spot; and then the lurker's hair stood on end as he heard the words, hoarsely spoken,-- "It was this very place." What a day Jonah was having! After a quarter of an hour's pause, during which the patient Jonah got nearly soaked to the skin in his watery hiding-place, Jeffreys roused himself and descended into the lane.

Any one less abstracted could not have failed to detect the scared face of the spy shining out like a white rag from the hedge.