Part 8 (2/2)
”That's why it might prove a suitable place.”
”Yes, in a way. There are glens where a man could lurk for a long time without being seen; but they're hard to reach, and nothing that the enemy would wish to learn is likely to happen here. Then the sands protect this sh.o.r.e. The east coast's our vulnerable point: any important news could best be picked up about Rosyth. If there are wireless installations working, one would naturally look for them on the eastern slope of the Lammermuirs and along the seaboard between Berwick and the Forth.”
”Of course,” agreed Murray. ”And no doubt they've had that district searched. But you must remember we're dealing with remarkably clever people, who wouldn't go to work in the obvious way. Now, suppose some news was gathered about Rosyth, how long would it take a powerful car to bring it here?”
”Four hours and a half, provided that none of your fellows or the police interfered.”
”That's by the Eskdale road. I'd go the other way--a rough country, but there's n.o.body to bother about the speed limit.”
”Well,” said Andrew, thoughtfully, ”I'd prefer the Eskdale. The obvious way's sometimes safest; it's the unusual thing that excites suspicion.”
”There's only one road for Andrew,” d.i.c.k laughed.
Murray got up.
”I must be off,” he said. ”My Terriers are scattered about the mosses, and khaki has its disadvantages when you're looking for your men.”
He turned away and when he went, springing down the western slope of the hill, Elsie looked at the others.
”It was so serene up here,” she said; ”and he has broken the charm.
The war cloud looked a long way off, but it seems closer now.” She glanced across the ranges of sunny hills as she added: ”What a beautiful world this might be if men were sensible and just!”
”True,” replied d.i.c.k; ”but then we'd miss some excitement and get fat and slack. A certain amount of trouble's good for us, and that's why we make it.”
”We didn't make this horrible war.”
”No; I suppose we didn't. As a future landowner, I've naturally no admiration for the Lloyd George gang, but one must admit that they were forced into the fray. To do them justice, they're not the lot to fight when they can help it, and they're certainly getting on better than I expected.”
”You were bound by the 'Sc.r.a.p of paper,'” Whitney remarked.
d.i.c.k chuckled.
”Our politicians have left us nothing to say about that; but I'll admit there's something convenient in the other fellows' theory. I happen to know a little about sc.r.a.ps of paper and there are one or two I'd be glad to disown.”
”So I thought!” Andrew interposed dryly.
”Oh,” d.i.c.k laughed; ”my frankness is always getting me into trouble.”
Soon afterward they went down the hill, talking carelessly, but Elsie's eyes were grave when she saw in the distance small scattered figures moving across the heath. There was something ominous about the soldiers' presence on the quiet moors where the black-faced sheep had long fed undisturbed.
CHAPTER VII
THE GRAY CAR
It was one o'clock in the morning, but Andrew could not sleep. He sat by an open window, looking at the tops of the firs, which stood out in black silhouette. It annoyed him to be so wakeful, as he and Whitney were to make an early start for Edinburgh; but Andrew had something to think about, for he realized that his friends.h.i.+p with Elsie could not be resumed where it had broken off. She had grown up while he was away, and his feeling toward her had changed. To be regarded as an elder brother no longer satisfied him, and if he were not very careful, he would find himself in love with her. This was unthinkable: first of all, because he was lame and poor, and then because it was obvious that Elsie ought to marry d.i.c.k. She had no money; d.i.c.k had plenty and, besides, d.i.c.k needed her. Elsie would keep him straight, and his weak heart would cease to trouble him when he steadied down.
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