ver
thought that what all these high and mighty people were doing could have
any bearing upon us; and as to war, why everybody was agreed that the
great shadow was lifted from us for ever, and that, unless the Allies
quarrelled among themselves, there would not be a shot fired in Europe
for another fifty years.

There was one incident, however, that stands out very clearly in my
memory. I think that it must have happened about the February of this
year, and I will tell it to you before I go any further.

You know what the border peel castles are like, I have no doubt.
They were just square heaps built every here and there along the line,
so that the folk might have some place of protection against raiders and
mosstroopers. When Percy and his men were over the Marches, then the
people would drive some of their cattle into the yard of the tower, shut
up the big gate, and light a fire in the brazier at the top, which would
be answered by all the other Peel towers, until the lights would go
twinkling up to the Lammermuir Hills, and so carry the news on to the
Pentlands and to Edinburgh. But now, of course, all these old keeps
were warped and crumbling, and made fine nesting places for the wild
birds. Many a good egg have I had for my collection out of the
Corriemuir Peel Tower.

One day I had been a very long walk, away over to leave a message at the
Laidlaw Armstrongs, who live two miles on this side of Ayton.
About five o'clock, just before the sun set, I found myself on the brae
path with the gable end of West Inch peeping up in front of me and the
old Peel tower lying on my left. I turned my eyes on the keep, for it
looked so fine with the flush of the level sun beating full upon it and
the blue sea stretching out behind; and as I stared, I suddenly saw the
face of a man twinkle for a moment in one of the holes in the wall.

Well I stood and wondered over this, for what could anybody be doing in
such a place now that it was too early for the nesting season? It was
so queer that I was determined to come to the bottom of it; so, tired as
I was, I turned my shoulder on home, and walked swiftly towards the
tower. The grass stretches right up to the very base of the wall, and
my feet made little noise until I reached the crumbling arch where the
old gate used to be. I peeped through, and there was Bonaventure de
Lapp standing inside the keep, and peeping out through the very hole at
which I had seen his face. He