ws of
three, 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,--each
apparently too much immersed in his own thoughts to care for
conversation. Margot was quite thankful when the drive came to an end,
outside castle walls, grim and grey, but imposing as ever, though they
were in reality but a shell, surrounding a plot of innocent green grass.
There were isolated towers still standing, however, approached by
winding stone stairways, and short lengths of walks along the ramparts,
and quaint little barred windows through which one could view the
surrounding country. When Margot thrust her pretty laughing face
through one of these latter to greet her friends below, every
photographer 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 wander
round the small, and it must be confessed somewhat uninteresting little
village; then,--since the return home counted as one of the chief
attractions in the programme--the little party broke up into two, the
clergyman 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, and
congenial society, it would be difficult to name a more exhilarating
occupation for a summer afternoon; but, truth to tell, the weather had
taken a decided turn for the worse since midday, and it needed some
optimism to set forth on a long exposed walk.

The subject had been discussed at lunch with special reference to
Margot, as the only lady of the party; but, as she aptly observed, she
was bound to get back somehow, and, as a choice of evils, preferred to
walk through rain, rather than sit still to be soaked through and
through on the seat of the wagonette. It was therefore decided to make
an early start, and allow no loitering by the way; but when the village
had been left about a mile behind an unexpected delay occurred. The
Chieftain thrust his hands into his pockets, and stopped short in the
middle 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 ho