its bearings
carefully in relation to the burn and the sea. Then I wrote down all
the details about Gresson and the Portuguese Jew, and described the
latter in minute detail. I described, too, most precisely the cache
where it had been arranged that the messages should be placed. That
finished my stock of paper, and I left the record of the oddments
overheard of the conversation for a later time. I put the thing in an
old leather cigarette-case I possessed, and handed it to Wake.

'You've got to go straight off to the Kyle and not waste any time on
the way. Nobody suspects you, so you can travel any road you please.
When you get there you ask for Mr Andrew Amos, who has some Government
job in the neighbourhood. Give him that paper from me. He'll know what
to do with it all right. Tell him I'll get somehow to the Kyle before
midday the day after tomorrow. I must cover my tracks a bit, so I can't
come with you, and I want that thing in his hands just as fast as your
legs will take you. If anyone tries to steal it from you, for God's
sake eat it. You can see for yourself that it's devilish important.'

'I shall be back in England in three days,' he said. 'Any message for
your other friends?'

'Forget all about me. You never saw me here. I'm still Brand, the
amiable colonial studying social movements. If you meet Ivery, say you
heard of me on the Clyde, deep in sedition. But if you see Miss
Lamington you can tell her I'm past the Hill Difficulty. I'm coming
back as soon as God will let me, and I'm going to drop right into the
Biggleswick push. Only this time I'll be a little more advanced in my
views ... You needn't get cross. I'm not saying anything against your
principles. The main point is that we both hate dirty treason.'

He put the case in his waistcoat pocket. 'I'll go round Garsbheinn,' he
said, 'and over by Camasunary. I'll be at the Kyle long before evening.
I meant anyhow to sleep at Broadford tonight ... Goodbye, Brand, for
I've forgotten your proper name. You're not a bad fellow, but you've
landed me in melodrama for the first time in my sober existence. I have
a grudge against you for mixing up the Coolin with a shilling shocker.
You've spoiled their sanctity.'

'You've the wrong notion of romance,' I said. 'Why, man, last night for
an hour you were in the front line--the place where the enemy forces
touch our own. You were over the top--you were in No-man's-land.'

He laughed. 'That is one way to look