For miles it went, turning now this way, now that, until a
stranger would wonder whither it was leading him, and speculate whether,
at the end, he might not find himself on the same high road which he had
left long ago. At one part, for a mile or more, the lane skirted a
forest, where, down short vistas, could be seen deeper depths beyond,
solemn gloom which might serve to hide in, or might contain lurking
danger. Old cart ruts here and there made short incursions into it,
their limit marked by a small clearing and a few tree stumps, showing
that timber had been brought out; but no such track gave any sign of
penetrating far, and offered little temptation to explore. There was a
track, however, so casual in its departure from the lane that a stranger
would hardly have noticed it, which ran deeply into the forest, losing
itself at intervals in a small clearing, but going on again, although
anyone but those who had knowledge of it might miss it a score of times,
and wander hopelessly amongst tangled undergrowths and into swampy
depressions. This track presently crossed a larger clearing, where was a
hut set up by charcoal burners long ago.
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