passed. After they had left the station they had driven through a tiny
village and she had seen whitewashed cottages and the lights of a public
house. Then they had passed a church and a vicarage and a little
shop-window or so in a cottage with toys and sweets and odd things set
out for sale. Then they were on the highroad and she saw hedges and
trees. After that there seemed nothing different for a long time--or at
least it seemed a long time to her.

At last the horses began to go more slowly, as if they were climbing
up-hill, and presently there seemed to be no more hedges and no more
trees. She could see nothing, in fact, but a dense darkness on either
side. She leaned forward and pressed her face against the window just as
the carriage gave a big jolt.

"Eh! We're on the moor now sure enough," said Mrs. Medlock.

The carriage lamps shed a yellow light on a rough-looking road which
seemed to be cut through bushes and low growing things which ended in
the great expanse of dark apparently spread out before and around them.
A wind was rising and making a singular, wild, low, rushing sound.

"It's--it's not the sea, is it?" said Mary, looking round at her
companion.

"No, not it," answered Mrs. Medlock. "Nor it isn't fields nor mountains,
it's just miles and miles and miles of wild land that nothing grows on
but heather and gorse and broom, and nothing lives on but wild ponies
and sheep."

"I feel as if it might be the sea, if there were water on it," said