The tide, the current, and the wind being with the rowers, it seemed not long till Tooby hinted that Master Holyday would do well to keep his eyes open for the place of landing. The scholar, scanning the blue-black darkness in perplexity, said that he could not for his life see anything of the shore. Tooby asked him whether he knew the different landmarks by name. The scholar was acquainted with those in the neighbourhood of where they should land. Thenceforth the waterman called out the name of each village, wharf, riverside tavern, hill, tributary, or well-known country-seat, the contents of the darkness being known to him perhaps by his sense of distance, perhaps by reference to some far-off light, perhaps sometimes by the smell of marsh or wood. Holyday began to recognise the names; and at last told the waterman to put ashore at the mouth of a certain creek.
The boat glided along a low bank and stopped. Tooby, standing up, held out his lantern to show where there was safe footing. Master Holyday, leaping out too hastily, alighted up to his knees in water. Millicent, aided by the waterman's hand, stepped ashore. Cutting Tom and his men lost no time. Ere it seemed possible, the lights of the boat were moving swiftly away. Its departure, and especially that of Tooby, left Millicent with a sudden pang of loneliness and misgiving. But she reflected that the last stage of her flight was reached; taking new heart, she grasped Holyday's sleeve, and waited to be led.
The party had two lanterns and a torch, all which had been lighted in the boat. Cutting Tom assigned one lantern to Holyday, the other to the slim fellow with the projecting head, the torch to himself. The poet, with a deep sigh, and craning his neck to peer into the mysterious blackness beyond the little area of feeble light, started forward; Millicent clung to his elbow; Cutting Tom placed himself at her other side, and the four men followed close.
The walkers proceeded slowly, Master Holyday having often to stop to ascertain his way. At first the turf under them was springy, then it became softer, and sometimes one's foot would sink into a tiny pool; then the ground became higher, and presently they entered a wood. This seemed interminable; not only was poor Master Holyday compelled to pause every minute to identify his whereabouts but also the protruding roots, fallen boughs, and frequent underbrush made every step a matter of care.