They climbed out of the jingle and waited while the pony was tied. Having done it, Dunbar raised his head sniffing the air.
"I say, don't you think the mist's coming up a bit? It won't do if it gets too thick. We'll have difficulty in finding the Cove."
It was true. The mist was spreading like very thin smoky glass. The pony was etherealised, the cottage a ghostly cottage.
"Well, come on," Dunbar said. "We haven't a great deal of time, but the Cove's only a step of the way. Along here to the right."
He led, the others followed. Hesther had hitherto said nothing. Now she looked up at Harkness. "Thank you for helping us. It was generous of you."
He couldn't see her face. He touched her hand with his for a moment.
"I guess that was the least any one could do," he said.
"Oh, I'm so glad it's over!" She gave a little shiver. "To be out here free after those weeks, after that house—you don't know, you don't know what that was."
"I can pretty well imagine," Harkness answered grimly, "from the hour or two I spent in your father-in-law's company. But don't let's talk about it just now. Afterwards we'll tell each other all our adventures."
