m fell at an awfu' place called Lowse. John and me
never had no boys, jist the one lassie that's married on Donald Frew,
the Strontian carrier. I used to vex mysel' about it, but now I thank
the Lord that in His mercy He spared me sorrow. But I wad hae liked to
have had one laddie fechtin' for his country. I whiles wish I was a
Catholic and could pit up prayers for the sodgers that are deid. It
maun be a great consolation.'

I whipped out the _Pilgrim's Progress_ from my pocket. 'That is the
grand book for a time like this.'

'Fine I ken it,' she said. 'I got it for a prize in the Sabbath School
when I was a lassie.'

I turned the pages. I read out a passage or two, and then I seemed
struck with a sudden memory.

'This is a telegraph office, mistress. Could I trouble you to send a
telegram? You see I've a cousin that's a minister in Ross-shire at the
Kyle, and him and me are great correspondents. He was writing about
something in the _Pilgrim's Progress_ and I think I'll send him a
telegram in answer.'

'A letter would be cheaper,' she said.

'Ay, but I'm on holiday and I've no time for writing.'

She gave me a form, and I wrote:

_Ochterlony. Post Office, Kyle.--Demas will be at his mine
within the week. Strive with him, lest I faint by the way._

'Ye're unco lavish wi' the words, sir,' was her only comment.

We parted with regret, and there was nearly a row when I tried to pay
for the tea. I was bidden remember her to one David Tudhole, farmer in
Nether Mirecleuch, the next time I passed by Wamphray.

The village was as quiet when I left it as when I had entered. I took
my way up the hill with an easier mind, for I had got off the telegram,
and I hoped I had covered my tracks. My friend the postmistress would,
if questioned, be unlikely to recognize any South African suspect in
the frank and homely traveller who had spoken with her of Annandale and
the _Pilgrim's Progress_.

The soft mulberry gloaming of the west coast was beginning to fall on
the hills. I hoped to put in a dozen miles before dark to the next
village on the map, where I might find quarters. But ere I had gone far
I heard the sound of a motor behind me, and a car slipped past bearing
three men. The driver favoured me with a sharp glance, and clapped on
the brakes. I noted that the two men in the tonneau were carrying
sporting rifles.

'Hi, you, sir,' he cried. 'Come here.' The two rifle-bearers--solemn
gillies--brought their weap