Anne found the torch and gave it to Dick. He switched it on, and immediately the shadows round them grew blacker, and the lane seemed more tunnel-like than ever. Dick flashed the torch upwards to what he had thought was a stile.

“Yes - it is a stile,” he said. “I expect that leads up to the farm-house - a short cut, probably. I’ve no doubt this lane is the one used by the farm-carts, and probably goes right round to the farm - but if this is a short cut we might as well take it. It must lead somewhere, anyway!”

They scrambled up the bank to the stile. Dick helped Anne over, and they found themselves in a wide field. In front of them was a narrow path, running between crops of some sort.

“Yes - this is obviously a short cut,” said Dick, pleased. “I expect we’ll see the lights of the farm-house in a minute.”

“Or fall into the blue pond first,” said Anne, rather dismally. It was just beginning to rain and she was wondering if it was worth while to untie her mac from her shoulder and put it on. Or was the farm-house really nearby? Julian had said it wasn’t very far.

They walked across the field and came to another stile. The rain was coming down fast now, Anne decided to put on her mac. She stood under a thick bush and Dick helped her on with it. She had a small sou’wester in the pocket and put that on too. Dick put his on and they set off again.

The second stile led into another endless field, and the path then came at last to a big field-gate. They climbed over it and found themselves on what looked like a heathery moor - wild and uncultivated land! No farm-house was to be seen - though, indeed they could not have seen anything of one unless they had been very close to it, because the night was on them, dark and rainy.

“If only we could see some lights somewhere - shining out of a window,” said Dick. He shone his torch on to the moor in front of them. “I don’t quite know what to do. There doesn’t seem a path here - and I just hate the idea of going all the way back across those wet fields, and into that dark little lane.”

“Oh no - don’t let’s,” said Anne, with a shiver. “I really didn’t like that lane. There must be a path somewhere! It’s silly for a gate to open on to moorland!”

And then, as they stood there, with the rain dripping on them and not much else to be heard, another noise came to their ears.

It was so unexpected and so very startling that both of them clutched the other in a start of alarm. It was certainly a strange noise to hear in that deserted bit of country.

Bells! Wild, clanging bells sounding without a stop, jangling out over the dark countryside in peal after peal. Anne held on tightly to Dick.