In vain Eric expostulated, till at last the question arose—Why should he not seek to be what Pedro thought he was? And at times a real desire, born of the Holy Spirit, arose in his heart that he too, like Ronald and Pedro, might be a child of God; and through the haziness of his desires there glimmered in the far distance a longing for something better than gold.
Pedro's strong belief in him did good to the volatile boy, and enabled him often to say "No" to his cousins when they desired to lead him into temptation.
"They are all very kind," he wrote to his aunt some weeks after his arrival, "but somehow life has a different aim, apparently, here from what it has at Benvourd. The cousins think a great deal about dress, and go to evening parties very often, or else have them in their own house; but Alick and I get on famously. And I like school, tell uncle, and we play no end of games; but for all that I often think of you all. You, aunt, would like Pedro; he is a splendid little fellow, and as good as can be; he sometimes reminds me of Ronald. He has taken such a fancy to me, I can't think why; but for all that I am glad he has."
And now Eric was once again back at Benvourd full of glee, on the day we write of, as the party, accompanied by Mr. Macleod, and Clara and Alick Ross—who were again in the neighbourhood—set off at early morn for a picnic on the side, if not on the summit of Schiehallion.
The long drive at last came to an end. Nora, who had never been there before, was in raptures at the beauty of the scene; though, as they drew near the mountain, they saw with anxiety that a mist had arisen and was covering the mountain-top, wreathing it round as with many folds.
"Here we are at last," said Ronald, as he sprang off the hardy Highland pony on which he had ridden for miles alongside of the waggonette. "See, Nora, yonder is the inn where we are to put up the ponies whilst we climb the hill. Doesn't it look grand—Schiehallion I mean—towering so high, though you can't see its head just now, as it has got its night-cap on; but the wind will soon blow that off—don't be afraid."
But Mr. Macleod eyed with a suspicious look the rising mist and a bank of dark clouds that was now distinctly visible on the horizon. "One thing is certain, boys," he said, "we must have a guide, especially if there is any idea of your trying to reach the top."
"Oh yes, uncle," said a number of voices in one breath; "we are bent on going to the very top. Why, that is to be the great fun."
"Girls and all!" said Mr. Macleod. "What say you, Miss Stewart?"
That lady had kindly accompanied the party, chiefly to look after the girls. She shook her head, saying, "I am afraid the girls will hardly reach the top, but we'll try."