Night at the warehouse:
Where had Miller gone? A noise made them look again. Only two yards from their hiding place, a square of the warehouse floor lifted up and a light showed. A man walked from the shadows, turned and went down under the floor. They watched for some time before the floor opened once more and Miller climbed out. A man, following him, climbed halfway out and said, ‘Don’t forget, you must tell him it’s at the stone in the forest near Swan. He’ll go after us. You join us at the glade of stones. Leave well before curfew. Now get along.’
Wishart pulled Pitchfork back as they watched Miller hurry away. ‘We have to be back before him,’ whispered Pitchfork. ‘Follow me,’ urged Wishart, and he was off at a run. They raced through foul alleys, passed filthy hovels. Rats fled their footsteps, the bright eyes of foxes watched their progress. A few dogs barked but they saw none. They had to dodge the watch in the one or two roads they crossed, however, within a very short time, they were running up the side of the Sheriff’s house. They threw off their filthy boots and flung them down the side of their building. When Miller returned they were in their beds feigning sleep.