"
A couple of minutes sufficed to exchange the full-dress regimentals
for undress uniform, covered by military greatcoat, then Ralph hurried
out just as the excise officer came up.
"We are going to have a damp march of it, Mr. Fitzgibbon," Ralph said.
"All the better, sir. There will be a thick mist on the hills that
will hide us better even than night. There is a moon at present, and
as likely as not they will have a boy on watch. Are you ready, sir?"
"Quite ready. Attention! Form fours! March!" and the little party
started.
"How far are we going?" Ralph asked the revenue officer.
"About seven miles, sir. It's about half-past three now; we shall be
there somewhere about six. It does not begin to be light until seven,
so there is no particular hurry."
"I hope you know the way, Mr. Fitzgibbon? It is so dark here I can
scarcely see my hand. And if we get into the fog you talk about it
will be as black as ink."
"Oh, I know the way," the officer said confidently. "We keep along the
road for two miles, then turn up a track leading up a valley, follow
that for three miles; then branch to the right, cross over one or two
slight rises, and then follow another slight depression till we are
within a hundred yards of the place. I could find my way there with my
eyes shut."
"That sounds easy enough," Ralph said; "but I know how difficult it is
finding one's way in a fog.
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