nd an
unopened can of ox tongue. Best of all, in the dining-room cupboard he
came across an uncorked bottle of first-class Scotch whisky. He at once
made preparations for a scratch meal.

A pump in the yard ran clear after a good deal of hard working at it,
and he washed out and filled the antique kettle. For firewood, one of
the kitchen chairs was broken up with a chopper. The light, dusty wood
made a good blaze in the grate, the kettle was boiled, and cups were
procured and washed. Ten minutes later the friends were dining in the
library.

Nightspore ate and drank little, but Maskull sat down with good
appetite. There being no milk, whisky took the place of it; the nearly
black tea was mixed with an equal quantity of the spirit. Of this
concoction Maskull drank cup after cup, and long after the tongue had
disappeared he was still imbibing.

Nightspore looked at him queerly. "Do you intend to finish the bottle
before Krag comes?"

"Krag won't want any, and one must do something. I feel restless."

"Let us take a look at the country."

The cup, which was on its way to Maskull's lips, remained poised in the
air. "Have you anything in view, Nightspore?"

"Let us walk out to the Gap of Sorgie."

"What's that?"

"A showplace," answered Nightspore, biting his lip.

Maskull finished off the cup, and rose to his feet. "Walking is better
than soaking at any time, and especially on a day like this.... How far
is it?"

"Three or four miles each way."

"You probably mean something," said Maskull, "for I'm beginning to
regard you as a second Krag. But if so, so much the better. I am growing
nervous, and need incidents."

They left the house by the door, which they left ajar, and immediately
found themselves again on the moorland road that had brought them from
Haillar. This time they continued along it, past the tower.

Maskull, as they went by, regarded the erection with puzzled interest.
"What is that tower, Nightspore?"

"We sail from the platform on the top."

"Tonight?"--throwing him a quick look.

"Yes."

Maskull smiled, but his eyes were grave. "Then we are looking at the
gateway of Arcturus, and Krag is now travelling north to unlock it."

"You no longer think it impossible, I fancy," mumbled Nightspore.

After a mile or two, the road parted from the sea coast and swerved
sharply inland, across the hills. With Nightspore as guide, they left it
and took to the grass. A faint sheep path marked the w