‘What are we slaving for?’ I cried. ‘What are we arranging and planning for? I tell you it’s to kill thought that we’re racing and hurrying, Terry—to kill thought!’

I gave up picking blaeberries this evening to watch her where she sat under a rock curtained with berry bushes. She sat there picking the fruit with an air of complete absorption. For every berry that went into her dish half a dozen found their way to her mouth. I grew suddenly afraid of losing her, and such an anguish of terror seized me that my strength went from me and my heart was turned to ice. I watched her and I could not speak nor move.

She turned her face towards me. Her startled look recalled my wits and I strove to smile. Her mouth and cheeks were blue with the blue dust of the blaeberries and when she opened her mouth to laugh she showed a tongue and teeth all black and red with the dye and juice of the fruit.

‘Why! what is it, Hugh?’ she asked, gazing steadily at me.

I smiled as best I could. Then I gave up pretending. I let my head fall on my hands and surrendered myself up to desolate thoughts. In an instant she was kneeling beside me.

‘Hugh! Hugh!’ she cried, ‘are you ill?’

‘I’m all right,’ I articulated, raising my head with an effort.

‘You’re as white as a ghost,’ she went on. ‘What’s the matter, Hugh?’

My tongue was loosened and I babbled like a child, crying, ‘Terry, don’t leave me, never leave me, Terry.’

‘There, there, don’t be afraid,’ she comforted me. ‘I’m here; Terry’s here beside you; what harm can come to us? What nonsense is this you’ve got into your poor foolish head? What, is this all you’ve gathered? Look what I’ve got!’

‘You haven’t such an awful lot,’ I muttered.

‘I have so, pounds more than you, anyway. Come on, hurry up, and we’ll fill our dishes and go home for supper. You’re hungry, I know what’s wrong with you. What’ll we have for supper, fried trout or baked pike? I wish you could see your face, Hugh. Were you eating berries by the handfuls?’

But when I glimpsed her face while she thought my eyes were turned the other way I saw there the same appalled look that I knew my own eyes betrayed.

24 JULY

WE WALKED WITH Duncan almost as far as the Dalwhinnie road. We would have gone farther if he let us. He forced us to stop, he walked from us, and while we watched his retreating figure he did not halt or even turn his head.

‘Good-bye and God keep you,’ he said.

‘Don’t go, Duncan,’ Terry implored, ‘stay here with us, we’ve room and food—’

He smiled and held out his hand.