"I will try very hard," he said, venturing to take her hand. But in his heart he was doubtful. CHAPTER SIX. NIGHT. Margaret did not remove her hand from Geoffrey's grasp, partly because her mind was occupied with the difficulties of the position, partly because she naturally relied upon him. That position, trying to her, was pleasurable enough to Geoffrey, but he was too loyal to prolong it. "I was told to look for the Tump," he said. "Other landmarks were the Castle and Moonlight Firs. I think I should know the Tump, or the Castle, but cannot see either. Can you recognise Moonlight Firs?" "Every hill seems to have a Folly," she said, looking round. "I mean a clump of trees on the top. Yes,"--after a second searching gaze--"I believe that must be the Firs; it is larger than the rest." He took Kitty's bridle, and led the chestnut in the direction of the copse. The distance was increased by the undulation of the ground, but in twenty minutes it grew more distinct. "Yes, I am sure it is Moonlight Firs," she said hopefully. "We shall find the track there." Kitty laboured up the steep slope wearily; Geoffrey patted and encouraged the mare. "But what trees are these?" said Margaret, with a sudden change of tone as they reached the summit. "I am afraid they are beeches," said he. He ran forward, and found that they were. There were no firs. Margaret's heart sank; the disappointment was very great. "Look once more," he said. "From this height there is a better view. See, there are three copses round us; is either like the Firs?" "They are all just alike," she said, in a troubled tone; then pleadingly, "Geoffrey--_think_." "There are the stars still," he said. "Ah, yes," eagerly, and looking up. "I know the north star; there it is," pointing to the faint sparkle that has been the lamp of hope to so many weary hearts on foaming ocean and trackless plain. "And the Great Bear; the men call it Dick and His Team; it shines every night opposite my window, over the dovecot. Why, of course, all we have to do is to turn our backs to it, and ride straight to Greene Ferne." "Not quite, I fear," smiling at her impetuosity, for she was turning Kitty's head. "You see we should start from a different base, and our straight line might be projected for eternity before it came to your window." "Then what's the use of astronomy?" said Margaret promptly. "Well--really,"--puzzled to give a direct reply, "the difficulty is the longitude. But tell me, are there any roads crossing the Downs?" "One or two, I think." "Then we will go towards the north star; that will at least keep us in a straight line, and prevent us from going round in a circle. Sooner or later we must cross a road." "Is that all the stars can do for us?" "Under present circumstances--yes." They descended the slope; on the level ground he began to run, urging the tired mare to trot. "Do not do that," she said; "you will be quite knocked up."