They were riding abreast down the railway lines Hugh had seen from the grove, flanking the grove in almost the opposite direction to the way they had approached. On either side a low embankment sloped to a narrow ditch, beyond which stretched scrub-land. Above them telegraph wires twanged and whined: guitarra guitarra guitarra: which was, perhaps, a better thing to say than dungeons. The railway—a double track but of narrow-gauge—now divagated away from the grove, for no apparent reason, then wandered back again parallel to it. A little further on, as if to balance matters, it made a similar deviation toward the grove. But in the distance it curved away in a wide leftward sweep of such proportions one felt it must logically come to involve itself again with the Tomalín road. This was too m
