He leaned forward into the dark, listening.
This time there was no mistake.

A cry, faint and pitiful though it was, reached his ears distinctly.
"Julian! Julian!" "Coming, old chap," he shouted.

"Wait until I get a torch." He stepped quickly back into the sitting room, drew an electric torch from the drawer of the homely little chiffonier and, regardless of regulations, stepped once more out into the darkness, now pierced for him by that single brilliant ray.

The door opened on to a country road filled with gleaming puddles.

On the other side of the way was a strip of grass, sloping downwards; then a broad dyke, across which hung the remains of a footbridge.