Ben Nevis took out his watch.

“Ten minutes to five. Come along, Trixie, let’s go and have some tea.”

Chester and Carrie and Myrtle were in the Great Hall with Alan Macmillan.

“We’re surrounded,” the Chieftain announced as nonchalantly as Leonidas addressing his Spartans the day before Thermopylæ. “What’s the earliest you expect your people, Macmillan?”

“I’m afraid they won’t be here before to-morrow afternoon,” the poet replied.

“Well, we must hold out somehow,” said the Chieftain. “By the way, I’ve found who this fellow Buckham is. He’s an advertisement. Mary, go and get the Scotsman.”

“Donald, you’re forgetting,” his wife boomed tragically. “Our poor Mary isn’t here.”

“Oh no, nor she is. Oh well, we must hope for the best,” said the stricken father.

“I’ll get your paper for you, Ben Nevis,” Myrtle volunteered. “If I’m going to marry over here I guess I’d better begin to practise being a good little wife by British standards.”

“I’ll get it, sir,” said Alan. “Is it in the library?”

“Yes, that’s where it is. Thanks very much,” said the Chieftain, and when Alan was out of the room he looked benevolently at Myrtle.

“I rather like this young man of yours, Myrtle. He has good manners.”

“He has a darned good punch with his left,” said Chester.

“He writes lovely poetry,” Carrie added.

“Oh well, of course I don’t know anything about that, I’m afraid,” Ben Nevis barked. “I’m not great at reading at all, as a matter of fact. I mean to say, you start a book and then you put it down, and then when you pick it up again you can’t find where you left off. I remember once I read a book twice, and I hadn’t any idea I’d already just read this book till I came on a fly I’d squashed in it. Now think what a waste of time that was. Reading a book I’d already read! Heart-breaking, what?”

Alan Macmillan came back with the Scotsman, and with him came Kilwhillie.

“Ah, Hugh, you’ve got here,” his old friend bellowed. “Did you see any hikers?”

“Did I see any hikers? The place is alive with them,” said Kilwhillie. “They tried to stop my car.”

“Good lord, what brutes! Well, I think they’ll attack us to-night.”

“You really do? Hadn’t you better get in touch with the police?”

“Hugh! I never thought I’d live to hear advice like that from a Cameron. Do you think I want to spend the rest of my life watching Wolseley grinning at me down that yellow nose of his?”

“What are you going to do, then?”