rse walked up
and down hill, and only rose to a measured trot on level ground, so it
took a considerable time to accomplish the nine-mile journey, and it was
nearly eleven o'clock before they reached the Vicarage. Very tired and
cold and cramped, they rushed into the house, where Mrs. Greenwood, in
an agony of suspense, had been imagining all the accidents which could
possibly have happened to them, and was preparing herself for the worst.
The Vicar and some of the neighbours, it appeared, were out searching
for them with lanterns, so a messenger was quickly sent through the
village to spread the good news of their safe arrival.

"You can't complain you've had no excitement here," said Ralph to the
three guests. "We almost drowned you on Saturday, and to-day we nearly
lost you on the moors. You're going to-morrow, or we might have had some
more hairbreadth escapes. At any rate, I don't think you'll forget
Pendle Tor in a hurry!"

Lindsay had certainly plenty of news to relate when she returned to the
Manor. Her classmates were quite envious, and poor Cicely was a little
wistful lest Rhoda should have usurped her place in her friend's
affections. Of that, however, she need not have been afraid. Lindsay was
faithful to her chosen chum, and had so many things to ask about, as
well as adventures to tell, that the two were soon chattering as fast as
usual. Cicely had made no further important discoveries during the few
days, though she had kept a careful watch on Mrs. Wilson, and had once
noticed her go up to the lantern room carrying a jug in her hand. Scott
had not been in the house again, but he had been seen talking earnestly
with "The Griffin" in the garden. He had gone hastily away when Cicely
approached, so he evidently did not wish the conversation to be
overheard. Whether it had anything to do with the mystery or not, it was
of course impossible to say.

"I'm rather glad, on the whole, that nothing particular happened while
you were away," said Cicely. "I should have wanted so dreadfully to
tell somebody, I'm afraid Marjorie Butler might have wormed it out of
me. As it is, they none of them know, and we still have the secret to
ourselves."

CHAPTER IX

The Plot Thickens

After hearing the story of Monica Courtenay, their friend's ancestress,
Lindsay and Cicely felt a special interest in her portrait. They
strolled one afternoon along the picture gallery to take another look at
it. There were the pret