“I presume so; I know no other passage, and found no path.”

“But,” she urged.  “If there is a boat on the beach, isn’t it likely there would be a trail from there to this fisherman’s hut?”

“Why, of course; it was stupid of me not to think of this before.  The sooner we start, the quicker we shall arrive.  I want most of all to telegraph McAdams.”

“Who?”

“McAdams, the detective I told you about in Chicago, an old army buddy of mine.  He’ll have Hobart located by this time, no doubt, and will put the screws on him when he learns what has happened to us.”

“I see,” she agreed softly, “and if he does know the whole story we need not be so crazy to get back.  He will attend to everything.”

“Yes; we can wait up here until morning at least; you need a night’s rest, and no wonder.”

He grasped her arm, helping her to clamber up the steep bank, suddenly becoming aware that the sleeve felt dry.

“Why, Natalie, your clothes seem to have all dried off already; mine are soaked through,” he exclaimed in surprise.  “What necromancy is this?”

She laughed, a faint tinge of mockery in the sound.

“No mystery whatever; only a difference in texture, I imagine.  This light stuff dries quickly, exposed to the air.  Did you think you had hold of the wrong girl?”

The tone of her voice stung slightly, causing him to make a sober answer.

“That would, of course, be improbable, but I have been so completely deceived, even by daylight, that I dare not affirm that it would prove impossible.  Your counterfeit is certainly a wizard.”

“She must be.  But as she is miles away from here, you might let the suspicion rest.  Is this where we go down?”

She led the way, the action awakening no question in his mind.  If he thought at all about her thus assuming the initiative, the suspicion was dismissed with the idea that probably her eyes were more keen to discover the best path.  In this she was certainly successful, and he contented himself by following her closely.  The night was already dark, the way irregular and confusing.  She was but a dim shadow, advancing confidently, and now and then in their descent, he reached out and touched her to make sure of her presence.  This action seemed to irritate for she turned once, and objected shortly.

“Oh, don’t do that, please; it startles me.  My nerves are all on edge.”

“Of course they are, dear,” he confessed apologetically.  “I should have known better.  It was so dark I almost thought you had slipped away.  The boat I told you about must be close at hand.”

“The boat; oh, yes, but it can be of no use to us now.  Feel here with your feet; I am sure this must be a path that I am in, and it can lead nowhere except to that house you saw.”

“Can you follow it?”

“I think so; it seems to go straight up through the ravine; see, you can trace the bluff against the sky, and there is the opening just ahead of us.  You may take my arm again now,” she added graciously, “and then there will be no danger of either getting lost.”