“I wasn’t—until the day before yesterday—I think it was the day before yesterday; it seems a long time ago. I am not used to being blind yet, and feel so helpless. I’m so glad you are a friend of good Mrs Jennet’s—then I can trust you,” said Miss Lydia. This was something new for Molly to have people doubtful whether she could be trusted; it was generally the other way about. But when she had heard Miss Lydia’s story she quite understood. It seemed that Miss Lydia had been away from home for a fortnight, staying with her sister in the City, and had returned home the day before yesterday. “When I reached my cottage gate,” she continued, “I heard something coming behind me—a sort of soft, rolling sound. Then something touched me—and I could not see any more. I found my way into the cottage somehow—I live alone. I kept thinking my sight would come back. But it did not come back. And this morning—I knew it was morning by the cocks crowing and the clock striking—I started out, determined to find my way down to the High Road which runs below the hill, so that I might get help. But I lost my way. Presently I heard some one walking past me, and they offered to set me right for the High Road, but they led me here, and then they laughed and went away....” “I suppose you knew who it was that touched you and made you blind?” said Molly. “I didn’t see any one,” answered Miss Lydia. “But I can guess.” Poor Miss Lydia, another of the Pumpkin’s victims! Molly felt very sorry for her helplessness in this deserted place. Molly was fairly certain now that the letter she had received was not from Old Nancy. But why had the spies wished to prevent her from helping Miss Lydia? She would find out. If she had not felt sure that this was indeed Miss Lydia, she would have obeyed the letter and gone straight on to the Brown Hills. “I will lead you home, Miss Lydia,” she said, “if you will trust me. Which is the nearest way?” “Where are we now?” asked Miss Lydia. “This is Lake Desolate,” Molly informed her. “There are several lakes near here,” said Miss Lydia. “But I thought we were somewhere near Lake Desolate, because of the birds.” So she told Molly to look for a big hill shaped like a head, which was somewhere on the west side of the lake. When Molly saw it, towering up behind the other hills, she took Miss Lydia by the hand and led her away from Lake Desolate.