meant for a challenge,
Mermaiden."

She looked at me with a mischievous smile. "And now--"

I broke off and took her small, brown hand. Up went the dark eyebrows.

"I shouldn't like you to think that I thought you wanted to kiss me,"
she said.

"I think nothing," said I. "But one thing I know."

"And that is?"

"That it would be a crime if I didn't. The very stones would cry out."

"I don't think they would."

"I'm afraid they might," said I.

CHAPTER III

WHEN IT WAS DARK

Daphne pointed suddenly to the stile. "This is it," she said. "We get
over here and go across the meadow, and there's the wood beyond the
gate that we've got to--to--what's the word?"

"Encompass?" I hazarded.

"Skirt?" said Jonah.

"Skirt--thank you--till we come upon the carttrack."

"And then?" said I.

"Then we're all right," she said defiantly.

"Which means, that about two hours from now we shall, with a fine
disregard for the highest traditions of British pugilism, strike the
high road below the belt of firs, a good six miles from the roof-tree
we should never have left. God forgive you."

"Am I," said Berry, "am I to understand in cold blood that, reckoning
three miles to the league, some four leagues lie directly between me
and the muffins?"

"You are," said I.

"To think that my wife is a bag," he said wearily.

It was an autumn afternoon in the county of Devon. There were we
staying at a retired farmhouse, fleeting the time carelessly, simply,
healthily. Sickened by forty-eight hours of continuous rain, we had
fastened greedily upon the chance which a glorious October day at
length offered, and had set out, complete with sandwiches, for one of
the longer walks. Daphne constituted herself guide. We never asked
her to. But as such we just accepted her. We were quite passive in
the matter. Going, she had guided us with a careless confidence which
shamed suspicion. But coming back, she had early displayed
unmistakable signs of hesitation and anxiety. Thereafter she had
plunged desperately, with the result that at three o'clock we found
ourselves reduced to a swine-herd who had been drinking. The latter
detailed to us four several routes, and assured us that it was utterly
impossible to miss any one of them.

To put it quite shortly, he was mistaken.

Within half an hour we had missed them all. Lost on a heath (which I
have every reason to suppose was blasted) in a strange county, a