nage," said Breton, nonchalantly. "I know the way, and
we're not afraid of a wet skin."

The landlord laughed, and sitting down on his long settle folded his
arms and scratched his elbows.

"There was a gentleman--London gentleman by his tongue--came in here
this afternoon, and asked the way to Fossdale," he observed. "He'll be
there long since--he'd have daylight for his walk. Happen he's one of
your party?--he asked where the old gentlemen's little cottage was."

Again Spargo felt his shin kicked and made no sign. "One of their
friends, perhaps," answered Breton. "What was he like?"

The landlord ruminated. He was not good at description and was
conscious of the fact.

"Well, a darkish, serious-faced gentleman," he said. "Stranger
hereabouts, at all events. Wore a grey suit--something like your
friend's there. Yes--he took some bread and cheese with him when he
heard what a long way it was."

"Wise man," remarked Breton. He hastily finished his own bread and
cheese, and drank off the rest of his pint of ale. "Come on," he said,
"let's be stepping."

Outside, in the almost tangible darkness, Breton clutched Spargo's arm.
"Who's the man?" he said. "Can you think, Spargo?"

"Can't" answered Spargo. "I was trying to, while that chap was talking.
But--it's somebody that's got in before us. Not Rathbury, anyhow--he's
not serious-faced. Heavens, Breton, however are you going to find your
way in this darkness?"

"You'll see presently. We follow the road a little. Then we turn up the
fell side there. On the top, if the night clears a bit, we ought to see
Great Shunnor Fell and Lovely Seat--they're both well over two thousand
feet, and they stand up well. We want to make for a point clear between
them. But I warn you, Spargo, it's stiff going!"

"Go ahead!" said Spargo. "It's the first time in my life I ever did
anything of this sort, but we're going on if it takes us all night. I
couldn't sleep in any bed now that I've heard there's somebody ahead of
us. Go first, old chap, and I'll follow."

Breton went steadily forward along the road. That was easy work, but
when he turned off and began to thread his way up the fell-side by what
was obviously no more than a sheep-track, Spargo's troubles began. It
seemed to him that he was walking as in a nightmare; all that he saw
was magnified and heightened; the darkening sky above; the faint
outlines of the towering hills; the gaunt spectres of fir and pine; the
figure of B