Lady Sylvia followed the track along which the car must have gone, towards the falls. She turned away abruptly, following a barely visible track, noting some freshly broken branches. Clearly her years as a Girl Guide had not been in vain. Breaking through the undergowth, she was soon out on a broad plain. Impala ran, scattering at her approach. It was warm and deinitely romantic, as the young aristocrat drove across the broad plain.
She saw the land-mine just in time. Leaping from the vehicle, she rolled, covering her face. She felt the haet scorch her body, and earth shower her. But she heard no explosion. As she ran for cover, all she could hear was the thunder of the falls, even though she was crashing through undergrowth. The jungle tore at her legs, pain shooting through her, as the shapely limbs were cut in numerous places. By the time she fell to the ground, sure that she had not been followed, her legs were a mass of irritating small cuts.
Now afraid, she moved on slowly, following the trail's course, still hearing none of the sounds she knew she must be making. A little way on, she saw a white wall through the jungle. Lady Sylvia headed towards it, heart beating with anticipation and fear.
There, in the middle of the jungle was a rather severe-looking mansion in the Greek Revival style. Attached to it by a conservatory was an octagonal tower. And the windows of this tower were pulsing with light.Before Lady Sylvia could investigate further, she felt the cold (okay, warmish) steel of a rifle press into her back.
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