“All right.”

“One, two, three. Ca-dell-in! Help! Ca-dell-in! !”

It was like shouting in a padded cell. Their voices, flat and dead, soaked into the grey blanket.

“That can’t have carried far,” said Colin disgustedly. “Try again. One, two, three. Help! Ca-dell-in! Help! ! !”

“It’s no use,” said Susan; “he’ll never hear us. We’ll have to find our own way out.”

“And we’ll do that if we keep going at our own pace,” said Colin. “If whatever caused this had intended to attack us it would have done so by now, wouldn’t it? No, it wants to frighten us into rushing over a precipice or something like that. As long as we carry on slowly we’ll be safe enough.”

He was wrong, but they had no other plan.

For the next few minutes the children made their way in silence, Susan concentrating on the ground immediately in front, Colin alert for any sight or sound of danger.

All at once Susan halted.

“Hallo, what’s this?”

At their feet lay two rough-hewn boulders and beyond them, on either side, could be seen the faint outline of others of a like size.

“What can they be? They look as though they’ve been put there deliberately, don’t they?”

“Never mind,” said Colin; “we mustn’t waste time in standing around.”

And they passed between the stones, only to stop short a couple of paces later, with despair in their hearts, cold as the east wind.

Susan’s question was answered. They were in the middle of a ring of stones, and the surrounding low, dim shapes rose on the limit of vision as though marking the boundary of the world.

Facing the children were two stones, far bigger than the rest and on one of the stones sat a figure, and the sight of it would have daunted a brave man.

For three fatal seconds the children stared, unable to think or move. And as they faltered, the jaws of the trap closed about them; for, like a myriad snakes, the grass within the circle, alive with the magic of the place, writhed about their feet, shackling them in a net of blade and root, tight as a vice.