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 was turned half away from me, and it was
clear that he had not seen me at all, for he was staring with all his
eyes over in the direction of West Inch. As I advanced my foot rattled
the rubble that lay in the gateway, and he turned round with a start and
faced me.

He was not a man whom you could put out of countenance, and his face
changed no more than if he had been expecting me there for a
twelvemonth; but there was something in his eyes which let me know that
he would have paid a good price to have me back on the brae path again.

"Hullo!" said I, "what are you doing here?"