'Here we are, Miss Marjorie,' said Neil. 'If you could be managing to climb up here we would come out on the moor.'
The ascent was broken and dangerous, and was in some places only very imperfectly lighted. Neil, with his sailor's training, swung himself from point to point, sometimes drawing Marjorie up to a ledge, and sometimes instructing her where to set her feet. At last the welcome daylight burst upon them, and grasping the tufts of heather, they drew themselves on to firm ground.
'At last,' said Marjorie, throwing herself down on the heather, and blinking in the sun. 'Now you can go to the lighthouse, Neil.'
'Hullo,' said a voice; and Marjorie looked up to see the laird and Mr. Graham, who had come all this way to watch the storm at the Corrachin Caves, and were very much astonished at this sudden encounter.
'Run, Neil,' gasped Marjorie; but Neil drew himself together.
'It iss no use,' he said; 'they will be watching wherever I will go, and I hev not a chance.'
Then to Mr. Stewart he said, 'I am not for trying to escape. I know I shall be taken. I'd rather give myself up to you than to any one else. If you wass not to be letting my mother know it iss grateful to you I will be, sir.'
The laird looked greatly distressed.
'Neil, my lad,' he said, 'I have no warrant for arresting you. It's none of my business. You may go away if you like; I shall not try to prevent you.'
Neil shook his head.