“Och, I don’t know if it’s a valve or if the high tension is wrong, but it hasn’t been working for nearly three weeks now. She’s on at me to look at it every time she sees me. ‘What about my wireless, Johnnie, what about my wireless?’ Och, I got tired hearing about her wireless. So I told her I’d look at it this afternoon, but och, a man can’t do everything at once. But that’s the way with women. They think a man has nothing to do except be mending a lot of nonsense for them.”

“That’s true right enough. But they can’t help themselves. No, no. They’re just made that way.”

“Ay, that’s just about what it is, Archie. Just made that way, and that’s all there is to it. I wonder what’s keeping Ben Nevis. One o’clock we were to be here, and it’s nearly six o’clock now.”

“He may have walked back by the other side of Ben Booey,” Archie speculated.

“Ay, he may have. I never thought of that. Perhaps we would be better to go back to the Castle and find out if there’s any news of him.”

The absence of Ben Nevis made all at the Castle realize how much they depended on him in an emergency like this. They recalled the vigour with which he had organized search parties for his missing guest only a week ago. All that Mrs MacDonald could suggest was that after he had had his tea Johnnie Macpherson should drive back to where he had spent the afternoon waiting for his master. Mrs MacDonald was determined to believe a sprained ankle was the explanation of the mystery.

“But, Mother, they can’t all six of them have sprained their ankles,” Catriona protested. “I think they’ve been captured by the hikers.”

“I’m certain of it,” Mary growled.

Carrie and Myrtle supported this theory, and even Mr Fletcher, who had spent so many years in avoiding any difference of opinion either with Ben Nevis or his wife, felt bound to question the probability of the sprained ankle theory.

“Oh dear,” Mrs MacDonald soughed, “I wish Hughie Cameron was here.” All recent criticism of Kilwhillie was forgotten in this anxious hour.

At midnight Johnnie Macpherson came back with worse news than ever. Miss Catriona and Miss Mary had set off together along the path toward Ben Booey and had not been seen since they got out of the Daimler about half-past eight.

“But why did you let them go, Johnnie?” Mrs MacDonald boomed reproachfully.

“How was I to stop them, madam?” he asked. “They just jumped out of the car when we reached the head of the path and were away.”

“The hikers must have captured them too,” Carrie declared.