THEY found the old woman indoors; in fact she never could be anywhere
else, since she had nearly lost her walking powers, and was only just
able to creep about the room. A married daughter, living not far off,
used to come in and see to her wants once or twice a day. But most
of the time, she had to manage for herself as best she could. The
basketful of good things, brought by Aunt Judith, was very welcome; and
then Aunt Judith had to sit by her ever so long, listening to the tale
of all her troubles.
Time went faster than anybody knew, while the old woman talked and her
visitor listened.
Jock had been sent into the little garden, to amuse himself. He picked
a big bunch of blue-bells from a bank near, and watched the bees, and
listened to the birds, and could have gone on so for hours.
When at length Aunt Judith came out, a change had come over the sky.
There was a grey mistiness everywhere, and clouds were gathering. Aunt
Judith looked up and around.
"Oh, I don't think it means rain at present," she said. "So we will
keep to our plan, Jock—if you feel inclined for so much walking. I
suppose it will be about a mile and a half longer than the way we came;
and it means going through a lovely little valley. They would call it a
'Combe' in Devonshire, and we always do call it so, Grannie and I. It
is said to be really a very old and disused quarry—all grown over and
full of trees. What do you feel like?"
Jock declared himself perfectly rested, and ready for any length of
walk. He was eager to try the new route. One heavy basket, still
unpacked, had been left with the old woman; and the other was almost
empty. So they could go unburdened.
At a steady pace they set off, and after about a mile re-entered the
wood, but in a different part. And by the time that they emerged from
the wood, the weather had changed still more. The sky was growing
black, and the whole scene looked dark. Aunt Judith began rather to
regret having chosen the longer way. Now, however, it was too late to
turn back.
So they trudged on, beguiling their walk by stories. Jock loved telling
stories of his home-life and his school-fellows, and Aunt Judith seemed
to enjoy hearing them. But the beauty of the day was gone.
"Well, if rain does come, it can't be helped," Aunt Judith said
cheerfully. "You and I are not sugar or salt, so we shall not melt. I
wish we had an umbrella—but who could dream that it would be wanted?
Perhaps we may get in dry, after all."
She had hardly spoken the words when some heavy slow drops fell, each
making a big round mark on the ground, and then, all at once, came a
furious downpour. It was quite a deluge. And Aunt Judith had on only a
thin jumper with a thin serge skirt, for she always dressed lightly in
summer.
"We must find shelter," she said. "Run, Jock—run."
They raced together as fast as wind and laughter would allow, towards a
shed—a very tumble-down affair—in a field close by. It gave protection
from the rain, and hardly had they arrived before a sharp pelt of hail
rattled on all around.
"Good thing we got here in time." Aunt Judith shook her skirt, like a
dog coming out of a pond, and felt Jock over to see if he were very
wet. "Well, it can't be helped," she said once more. "We must wait till
the storm is over."
They had to wait a good while. Though the hail lessened, the rain kept
on.
"I wonder what o'clock it is." She took out her watch, and then put it
to her ear. "Stopped! Now I wonder why."
"Mr. Moore's watch wouldn't go neither."
"Something in the weather, perhaps. How tiresome. It must have stopped
while we were having our tea; and I have not the faintest idea how long
it is since then. I've never given it a thought."
Jock laughed. He found all this very good fun.
"We must get on as fast as we can—directly we can start. I shouldn't
much care to go through the Combe in the dark—it means a pretty stiff
path to the bottom. Beyond the Combe will not matter, for we get then
to a level high road. I wish the rain would stop."
Apparently the rain was in no hurry. They waited and waited, till Aunt
Judith's patience was nearly at an end. The growing darkness might be
only due to clouds and rain, but it "might" mean—lateness.
Another sharp burst of hail came, quite a bombardment of sharp little
pellets rattling on the crazy roof of their shelter. And this time when
it stopped, the rain also lessened. All at once the clouds broke, and
patches of blue sky became visible. Then, suddenly, the sun shone out,
brightly, radiantly, lighting up the gloom with warm gladness.
At all events, he had not set yet, but the setting was very near, for
he was low down, close to the horizon. Judith knew now that she and
Jock could not possibly get home till after dark. The most she could
hope for was that they might reach and pass the little Combe, while
still able to see their way.
Off they set, going at a fine pace, for there was no time to be lost.
Jock enjoyed himself immensely. Coming darkness meant only the more
fun. They hurried on with increasing speed, as Aunt Judith found the
distance greater than she had expected. It was years since she had
taken this walk, and the friend who then went with her declared it to
be at least twice as long as the other way. Aunt Judith had positively
argued that it was nothing of the sort, but only a mile and a half
farther, and she generally held fast to her own opinions. Now, however,
as they pressed on and on, she began seriously to wonder whether she
had not been in the wrong and her friend in the right. The walk seemed
endless, and the sun had long set, yet still the Combe lay ahead.
"At last!" Aunt Judith said with relief, when a hill loomed in front of
them.
"Have we got to go over the top of that hill?"
"Not over it. The Combe is on one side, some way up, and this path
leads us straight through, and comes out at the farther end, close to a
good road. Then we turn to the left, and just keep straight on."
Soon they reached the edge of the Combe, and in front lay a deep
hollow, with steep sides, clothed in masses of trees, big ones fringing
the outer verge, and smaller ones crowded together below. It looked
very dark, and the path which they had to go down was not only steep
and narrow, but the heavy rain had made it sticky and slippery. Aunt
Judith had not reckoned on anything of this kind. She was not so good
at climbing as at walking, for the simple reason that the country round
her home gave few opportunities for practice.
"Take care, Jock; be careful. Don't slip, whatever you do. It would be
a very unpleasant roll to the bottom."
Jock laughed and agreed. He still thought it all amazing fun. But a
little note of anxiety had crept into Aunt Judith's voice.
As they slowly and cautiously made their way down, the remaining
twilight was almost cut off by high rocks and overhanging trees.
However charming a place in sunlight, it certainly did look rather
dismal now. Jock wished that they could have come earlier.
"Take care!" again exclaimed Aunt Judith, as she slid sharply a foot or
more downward, clutching at bushes.
Jock followed, not at all alarmed, and still ready for a laugh. The
next few steps were steeper still, and she paused, not seeing how to
manage them.
[Illustration: SHE WENT ROLLING, ROLLING, FALLING, FALLING, DOWN THE
WHOLE DESCENT]
"I don't like this," she said. "I believe the grass would be easier.
Wait a moment—while I try it."
Jock obeyed. He was just behind and above her. She struggled carefully
to the side of the narrow path, and stepped off on the strip of grass
which bordered it.
And in one instant, before Jock could dream of what would happen,
her feet seemed to slide away from her on the wet, smooth, slippery
surface, and she went rolling, rolling, falling, falling, down the
whole descent, till stopped at the bottom. One quick "Oh!" at the first
moment was the only sound she made.