g. It was even more dangerous in a sense than if it had been
quite dark, for then Miss Mouse would have stepped more cautiously. But
as all was open before her she ran fearlessly, forgetting that here and
there across the white sandy path the low-growing little plants which
mingled with the heather and bracken sent a trail across to the other
side, in which nothing was easier than to catch one's foot. Once or
twice she nearly did so, but no harm coming of it, she paid no
attention to the momentary trip up, and ran on again fearlessly, even
faster than before. So that when a worse catch came--a long, sturdy
branch sprawling right across, which clutched at the dainty little foot,
refusing to let it go--she fell, poor darling, with a good deal of
violence, twisting her ankle as she did so in a way which hurt her
terribly. At first she thought she had broken her leg, but the pain went
off a little after she had lain still for a few minutes, and she began
to take heart again and managed to get up. It was really not a bad
sprain--scarcely a sprain at all--but she was tired and cold and a
little frightened, for it was now so dark, and the fall had jarred her
all over; her head felt giddy and confused.

What happened was not, I think, to be wondered at--poor Miss Mouse took
a wrong path, and instead of keeping straight on in the line Bob had
started her, she turned, without knowing it, almost directly sideways.
For two of the little paths crossed each other, as ill-luck would have
it, close to where she had fallen.

Her ankle was not so very painful; with care not to turn her foot in one
particular way, she found she could hobble on pretty well. But, oh dear,
how far off the road seemed! And Bob had told her she would reach it
in a few minutes. And _how_ cold it was--were those flakes of snow
falling on her face? She wished now that she had called out very loudly
when she fell-- Bob might have heard her; but she had been afraid of
getting him into great trouble at the farm if he had run back to her and
made himself so late. Now she began to feel as if that wouldn't have
mattered--Uncle Ted would have put it right somehow for him--nothing
would matter much if she _could_ but get to the road and know that home
was straight before her. Perhaps some cart would come past and she would
get the man to stop and take her in--for oh, she _was_ so tired! She
walked more and more slowly, and at last--

[Illustration: AND--WERE THOSE SNOW