Vane left her and plodded away across the grass, sinking ankle-deep in
the spongy moss among the roots of it When he had grown scarcely
distinguishable in the haze he turned and waved his hand.

"I know where we are--almost to the head of the beck!" he called.

Evelyn joined him at the edge of a trickle of water splashing in a peaty
hollow, and they followed it down, seeing only odd strips of hillside
amid the vapor. At length the ground grew softer, and Vane, going first,
sank among the long green moss almost to his knees. It made a bubbling,
sucking sound as he drew out his feet.

"That won't do! Stand still, please! I'll try a little to the right."

He tried in one or two directions; but wherever he went he sank over his
boots. Coming back he informed his companion that they would better go
straight ahead.

"I know there's no bog worth speaking of--the Hause is a regular
tourist track."

He stopped and stripped off his jacket.

"First of all, you must put this on; I'm sorry I didn't think of
it before."

Evelyn demurred, and Vane rolled up the jacket.

"You have to choose between doing what I ask and watching me pitch
it into the beck. I'm a rather determined person. It would be a