She looked down. Below her, like a pale thread in a green and purple carpet, wound the track down Black Dingle. She followed it down with her eyes until she thought she could pick out the cross roads where she had parted from David and Jenny. On her right was the rocky ridge with the closed entrance to the mine. She could not see the latter, but a splash of green she imagined must be the tree tops of the wood by the ruined cottages. She moved a little farther round the rock, but still could see nothing suspicious there and no sign of movement.

Macbeth barked again urgently, as if trying to tell her something. He was facing in the opposite direction so she turned to the left towards the wooded ridge on the other side of the Dingle. Even as she strained to see if there was anything unusual in this direction, Peter realized that, oddly enough, they had never explored this side, or knew much about it beyond the fact that the slopes from the valley itself were not so precipitous and were fairly heavily wooded. She realized too that somewhere above those tree tops must stretch the wire of the cable railway, and wondered where the wires ended.

Then she saw what had excited Macbeth. On the ridge against the skyline, there was the flash of something bright - just as if someone had caught the sun in a mirror. The flash was not repeated but with the light behind her it did seem as if she could see something moving on the ridge. It may have been imagination but it was the first hint she had had of anything alive within miles; so, without further thought, Peter scrambled down the black rocks, called Macbeth, and started quickly along the mountain path.

Just as soon as they had left the rocks of the Chair behind them, they both felt better. She let Macbeth off the string. A refreshing little breeze sprang up and suddenly the day seemed brighter and she laughed aloud in relief to be doing something definite instead of waiting in the gloomy shadow of the Chair.

Then she saw the flash again, but this time it seemed much farther away. Macbeth was waiting for her at a junction of two paths which here crossed each other at right angles, and Peter saw that she had now reached the unexplored ridge which was the northern side of the Dingle, and that the mysterious flashes must have come from the path that ran along its crest.

She turned along it without hesitation, and Macbeth gambolled beside her.