Horace drew her onward until she felt and heard hollowness beneath her feet and realized that she must be on a bridge. She groped her way sideways until she felt a stone balustrade. She could hear water rushing below.
When they had been coming from Lindsey Hall in the carriage earlier, she had heard the wheels rumbling over a bridge—and Miss Martin had confirmed her observation.
Was it likely the walkers had crossed this bridge? Was Horace leading her to them? Or had they gone somewhere else?
Was she lost?
For a moment she felt panic well inside her. But that would be silly. She knew from stories her papa had read to her that heroines did not panic but were very brave. And all they had to do was turn around and go back the way they had come. Horace would know the way back. And once they were close, she would hear the sound of voices.
She bent down to talk to Horace, but at the same time she got her foot caught in the leash and tipped over until she was sprawled on the ground. She did not hurt herself. Horace came close to make bleating noises and to lick her face and she put her arms about his neck and hugged him.
“You silly dog,” she said. “You have come the wrong way. You are going to have to lead me back again. I hope nobody will have noticed that we were gone. I shall feel very foolish.”
But the trouble was that by the time she got to her feet and brushed her hands over her best dress to make sure no grit clung to it and repossessed herself of the dog’s leash, she was not sure which direction she was facing.
She let Horace decide. She pulled a little on his leash.
“Take us back,” she commanded.
It did not take her long to realize that they had gone the wrong way. She could feel the coolness of shade on her face and arms and sensed that it was not just that the sun had gone behind clouds but that there were trees overhead—she could smell them.
There had been no trees the other side of the bridge.
And then Horace must have seen or heard something off to one side of the driveway and went darting off over rough ground and among the trees—that was soon obvious to Lizzie—dragging her with him. He barked excitedly.
And then he was moving too fast for her and she let go of the leash.
She found the trunk of a tree and clung to it. She realized, as her hair came cascading down about her face, that she had lost her hair ribbon.
It was without doubt the most frightening moment of her life.
“Miss Thompson!” she yelled. “Molly!”
But she had known some time ago that this was not the way Miss Thompson and the girls had come.
“Papa!”she shrieked.“Papa!”
But Papa had gone to the house with Miss Hunt.
“Miss Martin!”
And then Horace was pushing at her elbow with his cold nose and whining at her. She could feel his leash swinging against one of her legs.
“Horace!” She was sobbing, she realized as she caught hold of the leash. “Take me back to the driveway.”
If she could just get back there, she would stay on it. Even if she chose the wrong way to walk, she would surely get somewhere eventually, or someone would find her. It was not far away.
Butwhichway?
Horace led her onward, much more carefully than before. He seemed intent upon making sure that she did not collide with any of the trees or trip over any of their roots. But after what must have been several minutes, they had not arrived back at the driveway. They must be going deeper into the woods.
Lizzie thought about her story, the first one Miss Martin had written down for her. Panic was hard to hold back. She was sobbing out loud.
And then Horace stopped, panting as if in triumph and Lizzie, feeling with her free hand, felt a stone wall. At first she thought that by some miracle they had arrived at the house, but she knew it was impossible. She felt along the wall until she encountered first a door frame and then a wooden door and then the doorknob. She turned it, and the door opened.
“Hello,” she called, her voice teary and shaking. She was thinking of witches and wizards. “Hello. Is anyone there?”
No one was. There was no answer, and she could hear no breathing except her own and Horace’s.
