It was very much like a child's fear of the dark.
But as she turned towards the entrance to the cave and caught the hand of Joan, the child wrenched herself free.
"We'll never come back," she wailed.

"Munner, I won't go!" "Joan, come to me this instant." Grief and fear and defiance had set the child trembling, but what the mother saw was the glint of the eyes, uneasy, hunting escape with animal cunning.

It turned her heart cold, and she knew, with a sad, full knowledge that Dan was lost forever and that only one power could save Joan.

That power was herself.
"I won't go!" "Joan!" A resolute silence answered her, and when she went threateningly forward, Joan shrank into the shadows near the rock.

It was the play of light striking slantwise from the entrance, no doubt, but it seemed to Kate that a flicker of yellow light danced across the eyes of the child.
And it stopped Kate took her breath with a new terror.