"Surely it will be our own fault if we allow them to assume such a position!" he answered.
I left my hands in his another moment. The fact that he held them gave me a sense of peace and security.
"Sometimes on a long walk through field and forest," I said, softly—"one may miss the nearest road home. And one is glad to be told which path to follow—"
"Yes,"—he interrupted me—"One is glad to be told!"
His eyes were bent upon me with an enigmatical expression, half commanding, half appealing.
"Then, will you tell me—" I began.
"All that I can!" he said, drawing me a little closer towards him—"All that I may! And you—you must tell me—"
"I! What can I tell you?" and I smiled—"I know nothing!"
"You know one thing which is all things,"—he answered—"But for that I must still wait."
He let go my hands and turned away, shading his eyes from the glare of gold which now spread far and wide over the heavens, turning the sullen waters of Loch Coruisk to a tawny orange against the black purple of the surrounding hills.