I had come.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I Hear of the Wild Birds

I saw an old green felt hat, and below it lean tweed-clad shoulders.
Then I saw a knapsack with a stick slung through it, as the owner
wriggled his way on to a shelf. Presently he turned his face upward to
judge the remaining distance. It was the face of a young man, a face
sallow and angular, but now a little flushed with the day's sun and the
work of climbing. It was a face that I had first seen at Fosse Manor.

I felt suddenly sick and heartsore. I don't know why, but I had never
really associated the intellectuals of Biggleswick with a business like
this. None of them but Ivery, and he was different. They had been silly
and priggish, but no more--I would have taken my oath on it. Yet here
was one of them engaged in black treason against his native land.
Something began to beat in my temples when I remembered that Mary and
this man had been friends, that he had held her hand, and called her by
her Christian name. My first impulse was to wait till he got up and
then pitch him down among the boulders and let his German accomplices
puzzle over his broken neck.

With difficulty I kept down that tide of fury. I had my duty to do, and
to keep on terms with this man was part of it. I had to convince him
that I was an accomplice, and that might not be easy. I leaned over the
edge, and, as he got to his feet on the ledge above the boiler-plates,
I whistled so that he turned his face to me.

'Hullo, Wake,'I said.

He started, stared for a second, and recognized me. He did not seem
over-pleased to see me.

'Brand!' he cried. 'How did you get here?'

He swung himself up beside me, straightened his back and unbuckled his
knapsack. 'I thought this was my own private sanctuary, and that nobody
knew it but me. Have you spotted the cave? It's the best bedroom in
Skye.' His tone was, as usual, rather acid.

That little hammer was beating in my head. I longed to get my hands on
his throat and choke the smug treason in him. But I kept my mind fixed
on one purpose--to persuade him that I shared his secret and was on his
side. His off-hand self-possession seemed only the clever screen of the
surprised conspirator who was hunting for a plan.

We entered the cave, and he flung his pack into a corner. 'Last time I
was here,' he said, 'I covered the floor with heather. We must get some
more if we would sleep soft.' In the twilight he was a dim figure, but
he seemed a new