Here the great blackness was before her and about her, and she stumbled and laboured on the invisible ground, groping for pits and ditches, and standing breathless again and again to listen. The way was so hard as to seem longer than it was, and in the darkness she must needs surmount obstacles that in daylight she would have turned. Often a ditch barred her way; and when, after long search, a means of crossing was found, it was commonly a plank to be traversed on hands and knees. There were stagnant pools, too, into which she walked more than once; and twice she suffered a greater shock of terror: first at a scurry of rats, and later at quick footsteps following in the sodden turf--the footsteps, after all, of nothing more terrible than a horse of inquiring disposition, out at grass. So she went for what seemed miles: though there was little more than half a mile in a line from where she had left the lights to where at last she came upon a rough road, seamed with deep ruts, and made visible by many whitish blotches where lime had fallen, and had there been ground into the surface. To the left this road stretched away toward the lights of Bromley and Bow Common, and to the right it rose by an easy slope over the river wall skirting the Lea, and there ended at Kemp's Wharf. Not a creature was on the road, and no sound came from the black space behind her. With a breath of relief she set foot on the firmer ground, and hurried up the slope. From the top of the bank she could see Kemp's Wharf just below, with two dusty lighters moored in the dull river; and beyond the river the measureless, dim Abbey Marsh. Nearer, among the sheds, a dog barked angrily at the sound of strange feet. A bright light came from the window of the little house that made office and dwelling for the wharf-keeper, and something less of the same light from the open door; for there the limy man stood waiting, leaning on the door-post, and smoking his pipe. He grunted a greeting as Mag came down the bank. "Bit late," he said. "But it ain't easy over the Cop for a stranger." "Where?" the woman whispered eagerly. "Where is he?" The limy man took three silent pulls at his pipe. Then he took it from his mouth with some deliberation, and said: "Remember what I said? I don't want 'im 'ere. I dunno what 'e's done, an' don't want; but if 'e likes to come 'idin' about, I ain't goin' to play the informer. I dunno why I should promise as much as that, just 'cos my brother married 'is sister. _She_ ain't done me no credit, from what I 'ear now. Though she 'ad a good master, as I can swear; 'cos 'e's mine too." "Where is he?" was all Mag's answer, again in an anxious whisper.