Roger now went along more slowly. He was cautious about where he set his feet, that he might not stray from the path, and occasionally he stooped down, and with his hands he felt the dirt under foot, to be positive he was on the hard, packed path and not travelling over the wood-carpet. He was in better spirits now and was sure he was going back the right way. He even began to whistle a little tune and already saw himself safe in his uncle's house, laughing with Adrian over their adventure. But when he had gone on for some time in this way, there came over him a nameless sense of disquietude. After all, was he really retracing his steps, or was he advancing deeper into the woods? If he had a match or two he could have easily seen his position. But he had not one. However, he reflected, the nature of the ground he was travelling over might now be of assistance to him. He leaned over again to feel of the way. As he did so he brushed against some low-hanging branches of the trees, and then, when his hand came in contact with the earth, Roger was startled to find it met neither the hard packed clay of the path, nor the dust of the road, but the dead leaves, the little twigs and broken limbs of trees, and the soft moss of the forest. Now, indeed, he knew he was fairly lost, and, when he stopped, and listened intently, he heard, all around him, the rustle of the foliage, the creaking of the boughs and the rattle of the branches of the deep woods. He had now absolutely no sense of direction, no knowledge of which way to turn. He caught his breath with a gasp, and then, feeling his legs giving way beneath him, he put out his hands, which came sharply up against a tree trunk, as he sank down on a fallen log. For a few minutes Roger thought the fierce beating of his heart would smother him. Then, realizing he must play the man now, he shut his lips firmly, clenched his hands, and stared determinedly into the blackness that was all around him. "What a baby I am," he said. "All I have to do is to sit here until it's light. Then I can easily get back into the path, or some one will find me. That's what I'll do. I'll not move from this spot until I can see where I am going." So he made himself as comfortable as possible on the log, turned up his coat collar, for it was cold, braced his back against the tree, and made ready to sit out his vigil until morning. His first fear over, he now looked upon the occurrence as a sort of queer little adventure. "It will be something to write to mother about," he said, as he pulled his hat on tightly. For perhaps half an hour the boy sat there. He thought of all sorts of things,--of his father, of his mother, and his little brother at home--of how he had come to Cardiff. He went over all that he and Adrian had done since he arrived. Then he began to nod; a little at first, then more and more, until he caught himself falling forward, almost asleep.