She had marked the place where the road dipped below the crest of a long, gradual rise and was momentarily lost from view. When she reached the low spot, she made her move, jumping across the water-filled ditch, worming her way through a bramble-andhawthorn hedge and into the barley field on the other side. The feeling that she was being followed had been growing with every passing mile since leaving the Fox and Geese Inn that morning; and now, almost within sight of Black Mixen Tump, the impression had grown too strong to ignore. Once inside the sheltering hedgerow, she found a place where she could watch the road without being seen and settled back to see whether her fears would be confirmed. The day was fresh and dry, if a bit blustery, and she had time to kill – unfortunately, the ley portal atop the tump would not be active until sunset, and that was a few hours away. If she could just stay out of sight until then, Wilhelmina figured she had an even chance of getting back to where she should be.
