CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.
A MOUNTAIN MIST.
Three days later a wagonette was chartered from Rew, to drive thediminished party to the scene of the haunted castle. Margot felt rathershy in the position of the only lady, but a mild proposition that sheshould stay at home had been so vigorously vetoed that she had nothingmore to say.
"If one clergyman, plus one brother, plus one bald-headed veteran,aren't sufficient chaperons for one small girl, things are coming to apretty pass indeed!" protested the Chieftain vigorously. "If you stayat home, we _all_ stay, so that's settled, and the disappointment andupset will be on your head. Why all this fuss, I should like to know?One might think you were shy."
Margot pouted, and wriggled her shoulders inside her white blouse.
"I _am_ shy!"
"You are, are you? Hadn't noticed it before. Of whom, if one may ask?"
She turned at that, and walked back to the inn, nose in air, butthereafter there were no more demurs.
It was indeed a very decorous little party which sat in two rows ofthree, facing each other in the wagonette during the eight-mile drive.The clergyman and the Chieftain, with Margot between them; and opposite,the three dreamers: the Editor, Ron, and young Mr Menzies,--eachapparently too much immersed in his own thoughts to care forconversation. Margot was quite thankful when the drive came to an end,outside castle walls, grim and grey, but imposing as ever, though theywere in reality but a shell, surrounding a plot of innocent green grass.There were isolated towers still standing, however, approached bywinding stone stairways, and short lengths of walks along the ramparts,and quaint little barred windows through which one could view thesurrounding country. When Margot thrust her pretty laughing facethrough one of these latter to greet her friends below, everyphotographer among them insisted upon snap-shotting her then and there,and for a good half-hour she was kept busy, posing in various attitudes,to give the desired touch of life to the pictures.
Photography over, the next duties were to partake of lunch and to wanderround the small, and it must be confessed somewhat uninteresting littlevillage; then,--since the return home counted as one of the chiefattractions in the programme--the little party broke up into two, theclergyman and his son preferring the longer route, round by the roads,the other four to take the short--cut across the moors.
A five-mile walk across the moors! Given health, settled skies, andcongenial society, it would be difficult to name a more exhilaratingoccupation for a summer afternoon; but, truth to tell, the weather hadtaken a decided turn for the worse since midday, and it needed someoptimism to set forth on a long exposed walk.
The subject had been discussed at lunch with special reference toMargot, as the only lady of the party; but, as she aptly observed, shewas bound to get back somehow, and, as a choice of evils, preferred towalk through rain, rather than sit still to be soaked through andthrough on the seat of the wagonette. It was therefore decided to makean early start, and allow no loitering by the way; but when the villagehad been left about a mile behind an unexpected delay occurred. TheChieftain thrust his hands into his pockets, and stopped short in themiddle of the road, with an expression of dismay.
"Eh, what! Here's a fine kettle of fish! Where's my bunch of keys?They were here as safe as houses, a few minutes back. I was jinglingtunes on them as we passed the school. You heard me jingling 'em!Dropped them on the road, I suppose, and walked on like a blind bat.Serves me right to have to turn back to find 'em. Can't lose my keys,you know. Got to find them somehow, or there'll be the mischief to pay.You'll have to go on, George, and take Miss Vane with you. There's notime for conundrums, if you want to get home dry." He looked towardsRon with questioning eyebrows. "Feel inclined to keep me company? Idon't fancy that walk by my lonesome."
"Of course I do. I should not think of leaving you behind by yourself,sir," returned Ron eagerly. "We can't have far to go, and we can sooncatch up the others, if we make a sprint for it. Go on, Margot. We'llbe after you in no time."
In the circumstances there was nothing else to be done, nor indeed,after a long morning spent in wandering about as a party, was Margotinclined to quarrel with the fate which provided an interesting _tete-a-tete_ for the walk home. She contented herself with expressing profusesympathy for the Chieftain's loss, and with prophesying cheerfully thatthe keys were certain to be found, then promptly dismissed the subjectfrom her mind, and gave herself up to the enjoyment of the moment.
"I really think we are wise not to wait about," George Elgood said, inaccents of self-vindication, as they moved on together. "The glass ishigh, but I don't like the look of things, all the same, and for yoursake shall be glad when we are nearer home. Are you pretty warmlydressed, if the rain should come on?"
"Don't I look it? I couldn't possibly have anything more suitable thanthis tweed coat and skirt. It doesn't matter how wet it gets. It won'tspoil."
"I was thinking about your own comfort, not of the clothes. You nevercarry an umbrella with you, I notice!"
"I can't be bothered! Showers are such an everyday occurrence up here,that one would be doing nothing else. I rather like the feel of therain on my face, and besides,"--she laughed mischievously, "it's goodfor the complexion!"
"Is that so?" he asked gravely, his dark eyes dwelling on the soft,rounded cheeks, which grew a shade more pink beneath his gaze. Suddenlyhis lips twitched, with the one-sided, humorous smile which brought theyouth into his face. "I don't think the need in that direction is sopressing that it could not be postponed with advantage, for to-day atleast. Do you mind walking fairly quickly? I shall feel morecomfortable when we are nearer home."
Margot was serenely indifferent whether it rained or not, but none theless she appreciated the Editor's care for her welfare, which showeditself in a dozen little graceful acts during the first part of theirwalk. For one unaccustomed to women's society he was marvellouslyobservant, and Margot felt a sweeter satisfaction in being so protectedthan in all her former independence. They climbed the hillside whichled to the moor and set out radiantly to traverse the grey expanse; greyand cheerless to-day in very deed, with a thick, blanket-like dampnessin the atmosphere of which dwellers in southern climes are happilyignorant.
George Elgood turned up the collar of his coat, and Margot thrust herhands into her pockets, shivering slightly the while, but neither madeany complaint in words. As usual, it was left to Margot to do most ofthe talking; but though her companion's responses were short, they wereyet so sympathetic and appreciative, that there was never any difficultyin finding a fresh subject. Like most couples with whom friendship isfast making way for a warmer emotion, personal topics were the mostappreciated, and what was happening in the world--the discoveries ofscience, the works of the great writers--palled in interest beforesentences beginning with, "I think," and, "Do you think?"
"I wish--"
"Have you ever wished--?"
They looked at each other as they spoke, with bright, questioningglances, which seemed ever to hail some precious new discovery of mind,drawing them closer and closer together. The hour of enchantment hadcome, when they moved in a world of their own, unconscious of externalaccidents. The moisture hung in dewdrops on the Editor's cap, Margot'shair curled damply on her forehead; but they felt neither cold nordiscomfort. It was unusually dark for the time of day, and had grownmysteriously darker during the last half-hour; but visitors to theHighlands become philosophically resigned to sudden and unpleasantatmospheric changes, and fall into the way of ignoring them as far aspossible.
It was only when they reached a point in the moor from whence the groundsloped sharply downward towards the Glen that they awoke to theconsciousness of danger, for instead of a rolling stretch of greensurrounded by purple hills, they seemed to be looking down into acauldron of floating mist and steam, blocking out the view, confusingthe eyes, and slowly but surely concealing the familiar landmarks.
Margot and the Editor stopped short with simultaneous exclamati
ons ofdismay, then wheeled quickly round, to see what lay behind. Here indeedthe fog was much less dense, but the distance was already obliterated,while long, smoke-like tendrils of mist were closing in on every hand.The signs which they had noted had portended something worse than rain;something which the dwellers in moorland regions learn to fear and dreadabove all other phenomena,--a mountain mist!
George Elgood's face was eloquent with self-reproach.
"This is my fault! Where were my eyes, that I did not see what washappening? The darkness should have warned me long ago. I am horriblyashamed of myself, Miss Vane!"
"You needn't be. It's as much my fault as yours. I did notice the dampon my face, but I thought it was rain. What are we to do?"
It was a simple question, but terribly difficult to answer. With everymoment those rolling masses of mist settled down more densely over thehillsides. To walk forward was to walk blindfold over a treacherouscountry; to return seemed hardly more propitious, though as a choice ofevils it was the one to be preferred.
"We must go back. We can't have come more than two or three miles. Wemust get back, and drive round by the road. Probably we shall meetGeoffrey and your brother _en route_!"
Even as he spoke the Editor turned and led the way towards the littlevillage which had been left behind less than an hour before. There wasno time to waste, for the darkness was increasing, and the clammydankness of the air struck to the very marrow.
"I shall never forgive myself if you suffer through this. It was mybusiness to look after you. There's only this slight excuse--that wewere mounting towards the highest part of the moor, which was naturallythe clearest. The mist seems to have gathered from all around."
Margaret looked and shivered, but hastened to appease his anxiety.
"I think we _did_ notice, but as we were expecting rain, a littlemistiness was natural. We could not tell that it was going to spreadlike this. Never mind! It will be quite an adventure to brag aboutwhen we are back in town. `Lost on the Scotch moors! Touristsdisappear in a mist!' It would make a thrilling headline, wouldn't it?"
She laughed as she spoke, but the laugh had rather a forced tone.Suddenly she became conscious that she was tired and chilled, that hercoat was soaked, and her boots heavy with damp. Though only a few pacesaway, the figure of her companion was wreathed with tendrils of mist;they were floating round her also; blinding her eyes, catching herbreath, sending fresh shivers down her back. A pang of fear shotthrough her at the thought of what might lie ahead.
Like two grey ghosts they struggled onward through the gloom.