Peter trudged on till she came to a big white gate. There was a notice on it in crude red letters - "STRICTLY PRIVATE". The gate was stiff and the hinges screamed as she opened it. Two bats fluttered round her head as she turned up the track. She was so tired now that her legs did not seem to belong to her. She could feel the bruise on her hip, her head ached and she was lonely and a little frightened. The rising wind made an odd rustling sound in the tree tops which bent towards her and made an arch over the path up which she blundered. Peter hated feeling closed in. She was used to the wild, open moorland of the Long Mynd, but here, in these beastly whispering trees, she felt as if the huge bulk of the Stiperstones was going to fall on her.

Then she came to the second gate. This was white, too, but there was barbed wire on the top and she scratched her hand.

Suddenly she heard the sound of someone singing, and ahead, down the track, she thought she caught the gleam of a torch. The clear and lovely voice came weirdly through the dark and Peter's spirits rose. That voice was just what she needed. She hunched the knapsack up on her back, squared her shoulders and held up her chin, determined to arrive at Seven Gates with her colours flying. Then abruptly the singing stopped and a woman's voice called, "Is anyone there?"

"Yes, there is," Peter answered. "It's me, and I can't see where I am."

The voice came nearer. "Is it Petronella? My dear, what has happened to you? We were beginning to get so worried. It's too dark for us to see each other, but I'm your Aunt Carol. Come along and let's get home quickly, for you must be tired out."

What happened next was all very bewildering. Peter could not really see her new aunt, but the hand tucked into her arm was firm, strong and friendly.

Then they passed through another white gate into what seemed to be an enormous farmyard. Now that they were out of the gloom of the wood, there was just enough grey twilight for Peter to see a group of cottages on the left, while in front was a gaunt, austere brick house. Beyond that and to her right was the shadowy bulk of great barns.

Aunt Carol, whom Peter could now see was not much taller than herself, looked at her and said: "You've been here before, haven't you? Do you remember it?"

Peter was puzzled. "I seem to remember the house." She looked up and shivered instinctively. "And I remember the mountain up there."

Then her heart banged uncomfortably as her aunt opened the door. Now for Uncle Micah.