“Am I coming nearer to you now?”
“I can hardly say. I cannot see well. Are you going along the road?”
“Yes. Can’t you come to me?”
“Not yet. We can’t get out. We’re upon your right hand, in a peat-stack.”
“Oh! I know the peat-stack. I’ll be with you in a moment.”
He did not however find it so easily as he had expected, the peats being covered with snow. My father gave up trying to free himself and took to laughing instead at the ridiculous situation in which we were about to be discovered. He kept directing Turkey, however, who at length after some disappearances which made us very anxious about the lantern, caught sight of the stack, and walked straight towards it. Now first we saw that he was not alone, but accompanied by the silent Andrew.
“Where are you, sir?” asked Turkey, throwing the light of the lantern over the ruin.
“Buried in the peats,” answered my father, laughing. “Come and get us out.”
Turkey strode up to the heap, and turning the light down into it said,
“I didn’t know it had been raining peats, sir.”