Lovat sank into his chair and shook his great white head in a melancholy way.
"I am too old," he said hardly above his breath.
"My lord," said Strange, "this letter is incriminating in the highest degree. Have you recollected yet whether it was Muckle John you met upon the island on Loch Morar?"
Lovat put one fat hand to his ear.
"I cannot catch what you say," he remarked blandly.
Strange repeated his question.
"I am sorry," said Lovat, "but at my age deafness is very prevalent."
And so in due course they took him to Fort William, carrying him in a litter, finding him very querulous over the bumpy places, and apt to gibe at them in Latin to his own cynical pleasure and their vague annoyance.