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.I could hear by his labouring breath that he was very blown.Hewalked straight over the crest till he was out of sight of Ranna, and flunghimself on the ground.He was now about fifty yards from me, and I made shiftto lessen the distance.There was a grassy trench skirting the north side ofthe hill, deep and thickly overgrown with heather.I wound my way along ittill I was about twelve yards from him, where I stuck, owing to the trenchdying away.When I peered out of the cover I saw that the other man had joinedhim and that the idiots were engaged in embracing each other.I dared not move an inch nearer, and as they talked in a low voice I couldhear nothing of what they said.Nothing except one phrase, which the strange man repeated twice, veryPage 52ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlemphatically.'Tomorrow night,' he said, and I noticed that his voice had notthe Highland inflection which I looked for.Gresson nodded and glanced at hiswatch, and then the two began to move downhill towards the road I hadtravelled that morning.Mr.StandfastMr.Standfast49I followed as best I could, using a shallow dry watercourse of which sheep hadmade a track, and which kept me well below the level of the moor.It took medown the hill, but some distance from the line the pair were taking, and I hadto reconnoitre frequently to watch their movements.They were still a quarterof a mile or so from the road, when they stopped and stared, and I stared withthem.On that lonely highway travellers were about as rare as roadmenders, andwhat caught their eye was a farmer's gig driven by a thickset elderly man witha woollen comforter round his neck.I had a bad moment, for I reckoned that if Gresson recognized Amos he mighttake fright.Perhaps the driver of the gig thought the same, for he appearedto be very drunk.He waved his whip, he jiggoted the reins, and he made aneffort to sing.He looked towards the figures on the hillside, and cried outsomething.The gig narrowly missed the ditch, and then to my relief the horsebolted.Swaying like a ship in a gale, the whole outfit lurched out of sightround the corner of hill where lay my cache.If Amos could stop the beast anddeliver the goods there, he had put up a masterly bit of buffoonery.The two men laughed at the performance, and then they parted.Gresson retracedhis steps up the hill.The other man I called him in my mind the PortugueseJew started off at a great pace due west, across the road, and over a bigpatch of bog towards the northern butt of the Coolin.He had some errand,whichGresson knew about, and he was in a hurry to perform it.It was clearly my jobto get after him.I had a rotten afternoon.The fellow covered the moorland miles like a deer,and under the hot August sun Itoiled on his trail.I had to keep well behind, and as much as possible incover, in case he looked back; and that meant that when he had passed over aridge I had to double not to let him get too far ahead, and when we were in anopen place I had to make wide circuits to keep hidden.We struck a road whichcrossed a low pass and skirted the flank of the mountains, and this wefollowed till we were on the western side and within sight of the sea.It wasgorgeous weather, and out on the blue water I saw cool sails moving and littlebreezes ruffling the calm, while I was glowing like a furnace.Happily I wasin fair training, and I needed it.ThePortuguese Jew must have done a steady six miles an hour over abominablecountry.About five o'clock we came to a point where I dared not follow.The road ranflat by the edge of the sea, so that several miles of it were visible.Moreover, the man had begun to look round every few minutes.He was gettingnear something and wanted to be sure that no one was in his neighbourhood.Ileft the road accordingly, and took to the hillside, which to my undoing wasone long cascade of screes and tumbled rocks.I saw him drop over a rise which seemed to mark the rim of a little bay intowhich descended one of the big corries of the mountains.It must have been agood halfhour later before I, at my greater altitude and with far worse going,reached the same rim.I looked into the glen and my man had disappeared.He could not have crossed it, for the place was wider than I had thought.Aring of black precipices came down to within half a mile of the shore, andbetween them was a big stream long, shallow pools at the sea end and a chainof waterfalls above.He had gone to earth like a badger somewhere, and I darednot move in case he might be watching me from behind a boulder.Page 53ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlBut even as I hesitated he appeared again, fording the stream, his face set onthe road we had come.Whatever his errand was he had finished it, and wasposting back to his master.For a moment I thought I should follow him, butanother instinct prevailed.He had not come to this wild place for thescenery.Somewhere down in the glen there was something or somebody that heldthe key of the mystery.It was my business to stay there till I had unlockedit.Besides, in two hours it would be dark, and I had had enough walking forone day.I made my way to the stream side and had a long drink.The corrie behind mewas lit up with the westering sun, and the bald cliffs were flushed with pinkand gold [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]