slope became easier, a jumble of boulders and boiler-plates, till it
reached the waters of the small haven, which lay calm as a mill-pond
in the windless forenoon. The haven broadened out at its foot and
revealed a segment of blue sea. The opposite shore was flatter,
and showed what looked like an old wharf and the ruins of buildings,
behind which rose a bank clad with scrub and surmounted by some
gnarled and wind-crooked firs.

"There's dashed little cover here," said Heritage.

"There's no muckle," Dougal assented. "But they canna see us from the
policies, and it's no' like there's anybody watchin' from the Hoose.
The danger is somebody on the other side, but we'll have to risk it.
Once among thae big stones we're safe. Are ye ready?"

Five minutes later Dickson found himself gasping in the lee of
a boulder, while Dougal was making a cast forward. The scout
returned with a hopeful report. "I think we're safe till we get
into the policies. There's a road that the auld folk made when
ships used to come here. Down there it's deeper than Clyde at the
Broomielaw. Has the auld yin got his wind yet? There's no
time to waste."

Up that broken hillside they crawled, well in the cover of the
tumbled stones, till they reached a low wall which was the boundary
of the garden. The House was now behind them on their right rear,
and as they topped the crest they had a glimpse of an ancient
dovecot and the ruins of the old Huntingtower on the short thymy
turf which ran seaward to the cliffs. Dougal led them along a sunk
fence which divided the downs from the lawns behind the house, and,