“But I must get home.  I must!  I must!  What will they think?  They’ll be sending out to look for me.  Won’t you come with me, Mr. Fletcher, and help me to find the way?”

“I will, of course, do anything you like; but I warn you, Lady Edith, that riding about these downs in a fog is most dangerous; I as nearly as possible went over a chalk-pit fifty feet deep.”

“Oh, Mr. Fletcher, I must get home; I cannot stay here all night; it is ridiculous.”

They talked so for a few minutes.  Then amid many protestations Lady Edith was induced to dismount.  He forced her to drink, and to continue sipping from his hunting-flask, which was fortunately full of brandy; and when she said she was no longer cold, he put his arm about her, and they talked of their sensations on first seeing each other.

Three small stones, two embedded in the ground, the third, a large flint, lay close where the grass began, and the form of a bush was faint on the heavy white blanket in which the world was wrapped.  A rabbit crept through the furze and frightened them, and they heard the horses browsing.

Mike declared he could say when she had begun to like him.

“You remember you were standing by the sideboard holding your habit over your boots; I brought you a glass of champagne, and you looked at me....”

She told him of her troubles since she had left school.  He related the story of his own precarious fortunes; and as they lay dreaming of each other, the sound of horse’s hoofs came through the darkness.

“Oh, do cry out, perhaps they will be able to tell us the way.”

“Do you want to leave me?”

“No, no, but I must get home; what will father think?”

Mike shouted, and his shout was answered.

“Where are you?” asked the unknown.

“Here,” said Mike.

“Where is here?”

“By the furze-bush.”

“Where is the furze-bush?”

It was difficult to explain, and the voice grew fainter.  Then it seemed to come from a different side.

Mike shouted again and again, and at last a horseman loomed like a nightmare out of the dark.  It was Parker, Lady Edith’s groom.

“Oh, Parker, how did you miss me?  I have been awfully frightened; I don’t know what I should have done if I had not met Mr. Fletcher.”

“I was coming round that barn, my lady; you set off at a trot, my lady, and a cloud of fog came between us.”

“Yes, yes; but do you know the way home?”

“I think, my lady, we are near the dike; but I wouldn’t be certain.”

“I nearly as possible rode into a chalk-pit,” said Mike.  “Unpleasant as it is, I think we had better remain where we are until it clears.”

“Oh, no, no, we cannot remain here; we might walk and lead the horses.”

“Very well, you get on your horse; I’ll lead.”

“No, no,” she whispered, “give me your arm, and I’ll walk.”