"I should dislike to have you buried in it," he said briefly, "and now," he continued briskly, "the next thing is to get away. I have put all my things into the suit case and I will, with your permission, put yours there too. Then we will leave the suit case and the hat box under a pile of old boughs near where I dressed, and the trunk--is there anything in the trunk?" he broke off. "No, I put them all on," she assured him, flushing delightfully. "There was just enough--of everything." "I see. Well, I think we'll simply leave it here. Perhaps I might hide it a little," and he tossed a dusty roll of cocoa matting and a coil of rope over the receptacle, which being small became from that moment unnoticed. "And now," said Antony, when he had conveyed the neat, damp roll she handed him to its hiding place, "let us get along. We can do no better than follow this path, which seems to grow broader, if anything, and it stands to reason we must come out somewhere. I may as well confess that I have a very poor idea of location, and I don't as yet find any landmarks. From the moment that we struck off into that field track I lost my bearings entirely. I should suppose we were opposite--or almost opposite--Brookdale; perhaps a bit lower down. We can get a rig and drive back probably--unless we die of hunger," he ended angrily. "I have only a little change with me --forgot it when I changed my clothes, of course, this morning. I suppose, though, I could get some money on this," and he fingered the scarf pin at his throat. It was a horseshoe of small diamonds of the purest water, and as Nette's eyes fastened on it she started suddenly. "Was that what you had on this morning?" she asked. "No," he answered, flushing a little. "I found it in a jeweller's box on the top of the things in the suit case, with a letter. I have the letter--it says only 'Amory' on it. I put the pin on," a trifle shamefacedly, "more or less to go with the whole rig, you know!" Antony looked very boyish as he made this confession and Nette could but smile as he fingered the little horseshoe consciously. This smile was not lost upon the youth, and turning, he walked on in silence, advancing steadily if delicately along the path, which, though narrow enough to force them into single file, was sufficiently clear to afford a certain margin of safety to Nette's billowy splendours. Antony occasionally held back a threatening bough, and she from time to time moaned apprehensively as some projecting stump detained her drapery for a terrifying second; but for this they exchanged no further conversation.