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.
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