Once through the wires—once well among the trees—they flew like birds, Irralie cutting deep and circling wide. It was terribly dark, but the girl knew every inch of the ground. They passed the broken column without a word. They skirted the tents so perilously that the snores of the occupants purred in their ears. Then once more through wires—Irralie held them apart for him—and so to the stables under cover of the night alone. But now there was neither moon nor star, nor as yet any sign of dawn in the inky sky.
The stable had risen in front of them as from the ground; they could have touched it with their hands, and were about to turn a corner of the long, low, pine-log building, when Irralie seized her companion's arm and stopped him dead.
Voices were approaching from the other side.
