“Here goes for congestion of the lungs,” he philosophically observed to himself, as he shiveringly munched his wet sandwiches.

Presently Roderick came along the peat-hag.

“Would you like to wait here, sir, for a while?” said he, in his accustomed undertone.  “I’m thinking Alec and me will go aweh up to the top of Meall-Breac and hef a look round there; and if we are seeing nothing, we will come back this weh and go down the Corrie-nam-Miseag—­”

“And I am to wait here for you?” Lionel exclaimed.  “Not if I know it!  By the time you come back, Roderick, you would find me a frozen corpse.  I’ve got to keep moving somehow, and I may as well go on with you.  I suppose I cannot have a cigarette before setting out?”

“Aw, naw, sir!” Roderick pleaded.  “In this weather, you cannot say where the deer may be—­you may happen on them at any moment—­and there will be plenty of time for you to smok on the weh hom.”

“Very well,” Lionel said; and he got up and tried to shake his blood into freer circulation; then he set out with his two companions for the summit of Meall-Breac.

This steep ascent was fatiguing enough; but, at all events, it restored some warmth to his body.  He did not go quite to the top; he sat down on a lichened stone, while Roderick proceeded to crawl, inch by inch, until his head and glass were just over the crest of a certain knoll.  A long scrutiny followed; then the forester slowly disappeared—­the gillie following in his serpent-like track; and Lionel sat on in apathetic patience, slowly getting chilled again.  He asked himself what Nina would say to him if she knew of these escapades.  He held his back to the wind until he was frozen that way; then he turned his face to the chill blast, folding his arms across his chest.  He took a sip from Percy Lestrange’s flask; but that was more for employment than anything else, for he discovered there was no real warmth to be got that way.  He thought Roderick was never coming back from the top of the hill.  He would have started off down the ascent again, but that they might miss him; besides, he might do something fatally wrong.  So he sat on this cold stone and shivered, and began to think of Kensal Green.

Suddenly he heard footsteps behind him; he turned and found the two men coming towards him.

“Not a sign of anything, sir,” was Roderick’s report.  “It’s awfu’ dark and difficult to see, and the clouds are down all along Glen Bhoideach.  We’ll just step along by the Corrie-nam-Miseag.  They very often stop for a while in the corrie when they’re crossing over to Achnadruim.”