"I'm awfully sorry to have landed you in such a hole," said Ralph, "but who would have thought those innocent-looking clouds would have come down on us like feather beds? You really never know what to expect on these hills." "I wonder what we'd better do?" said Monica. "Stay where we are," suggested Irene. "It would be too cold to spend the night here," replied Meta. "We haven't even our jackets with us," added Lindsay. "Unless we're quite dead beat, we'd better push on," said Leonard. "I'm hoping we may come to the stream, because we could find our way along the banks to Whitcombe, at any rate. I've been listening for it all the time, but I haven't heard a sound." "I wish we had a divining rod!" groaned Rhoda. "That would tell us in what direction the water lay. We've been going south-east all the time, haven't we?" "Yes, I believe the stream lay due south from where we started," answered Ralph, "but I didn't dare to turn that way, because of the quarry. Perhaps we may strike it higher up. If you're rested, girls, we'll be going." The damp, clinging clouds appeared to have settled down to stay. The wind that had been blowing earlier in the day, when they ascended Pendle Tor, had ceased, and there was not even the breath of a breeze to blow away the clammy mist that was already drenching their clothes with a chilly dew. It was now half-past five o'clock, and they had been wandering for more than an hour. "I haven't an idea where we are, nor how far we've come," said Ralph. "I only know I've been steering east by the compass. Of course we've been going very slowly, but I think we shouldn't be far from the brook. If we could find that, it would be an enormous help." "I believe I hear water now," said Rhoda, pausing a moment. "I'm sure I do: to our left. Listen!" All stood still, with every sense on the alert, straining their ears intently for the faintest murmur. In the far distance it seemed to them that they could certainly catch the unmistakable rush of a stream flowing swiftly over a rough, stony bed. Guided by the sound, they stumbled on, till at length, after climbing over a number of rocks, they reached the welcome brook that was to be their path to home and safety. "I'm uncommonly glad to see it!" said Ralph, stooping to take a drink. "I began to think we should never get back again. If we follow it down, it will lead us straight into Whitcombe. Of course, that's far enough out of our way, but we might get a trap there, and drive home." It was a most terrible scramble down the bed of the stream, over jagged rocks, among briers and bushes, and through rushes and reeds. The mist still wrapped them round, and they did not dare to venture away from the water to find smoother walking. The three visitors, who were not accustomed to such exploits, were nearly exhausted, while even sturdy Meta and Rhoda showed signs of giving in.