Captain Ayrton frowned and asked Oakley and Bullbridge to explain how they had known it was nine o’clock, since, unlike Mr Hyde, neither of them possessed a pocket-watch. Oakley replied that they had thought it must be nine o’clock because they had heard bells ringing. The bells, Oakley thought, belonged to St George’s in Clun. But Bullbridge said that they were not the bells of St George’s – that the bells he had heard were many, and that St George’s had but one. He had said that the bells he had heard were sad bells – funeral bells, he thought – but, when asked to explain what he meant by this, he could not.

The two accounts agreed in all other details. In neither was there any nonsense about black gowns. All three men said she had been wearing a white gown and all agreed that she had been walking rather fast. None of them had seen her face.

Captain Ayrton set the men to search the dark winter woods in groups of four and five. He set women to find lanterns and warm clothing and he set riders to cover the high, open hills around Castle Idris. He put Mr Hyde – who would be satisfied with nothing else – in charge of them. Ten minutes after Oakley and Bullbridge had finished speaking, all were gone. As long as daylight lasted they searched, but daylight could not last long. They were only five days from the Winter Solstice: by three o’clock the light was fading; by four it was gone altogether.

The searchers returned to Strange’s house, where Captain Ayrton intended to review what had been done so far and hoped to determine what ought to be done next. Several of the ladies of the neighbourhood were also present. They had tried waiting in their own houses for news of Mrs Strange’s fate and found it a lonely, anxious business. They had come to Ashfair partly in case they were needed, but chiefly so that they might take comfort in each other’s society.

The last to arrive were Strange and Jeremy Johns. They came, booted and muddy, direct from the stables. Strange was ashen-faced and hollow-eyed. He looked and moved like a man in dream. He would probably not even have sat down, had Jeremy Johns not pushed him into a chair.

Captain Ayrton laid out his maps upon the table and began to question each of the search parties about where they had been and what they had found – which was nothing at all.

Every man and woman present thought how the neatly drawn lines and words upon the maps were in truth ice-covered pools and rivers, silent woods, frozen ditches and high, bare hills and every one of them thought how many sheep and cattle and wild creatures died in this season.

“I think I woke last night …” said a hoarse voice, suddenly. They looked round.