One of the handsomest villas the boys had yet seen, and in the porch thereof stood Colonel Trelawney himself to welcome his guests.
"Right welcome to the Limes," he cried heartily. "Frank is out, but he'll be home to luncheon. Why, what tall hardy chaps you are, to be sure, and I'm right glad you came in your native dress. I wonder how my boy would look in the kilt. It's a matter of legs, I believe."
"Oh, sir," said Duncan, "he'll soon get legs when he comes to the Highlands, and climbs the hills and walks the moors for a few months."
"Well, come in, boys. James, here, will show you your room. We've put you both in the same, as I know young fellows like to talk before turning in."
The room was plainly, yet comfortably, furnished, and the window gave a pleasant view of gardens, shrubberies, and a cloudland of trees to which the autumn foliage still was clinging.
"'Ot watah, young gents."
"Thank you, James."
Duncan and Conal made haste to wash and dress.
James had opened their boxes, and was acting as valet to them in every way. But they were not used to this, and so they told James. God had given them hands and arms, and so they liked to make use of them.
Hark! footsteps on the stairs. Hurried ones, too; two steps, one stride!