It was on a soft, dark evening of the following week that they engaged in the adventure.

Tina was to meet her at a point in the highway at which the lane to the village branched off.

Christoph was to go ahead of them to the harbour where the boat lay, row it round the Nothe--or Look-out as it was called in those days--and pick them up on the other side of the promontory, which they were to reach by crossing the harbour-bridge on foot, and climbing over the Look-out hill.
As soon as her father had ascended to his room she left the house, and, bundle in hand, proceeded at a trot along the lane.

At such an hour not a soul was afoot anywhere in the village, and she reached the junction of the lane with the highway unobserved.

Here she took up her position in the obscurity formed by the angle of a fence, whence she could discern every one who approached along the turnpike-road, without being herself seen.
She had not remained thus waiting for her lover longer than a minute--though from the tension of her nerves the lapse of even that short time was trying--when, instead of the expected footsteps, the stage- coach could be heard descending the hill.