Evidently our shrewd companion suspected that I had either made a mistake or deliberately told him an untruth, but I was quite ready for him. I had no time to consider the ethics of the matter. I was out to obey what I took to be my instructions, and obey them I did.
“Oh, there are quite a lot of ways of getting there,” I replied airily; “but perhaps the easiest would be to take the motor-boat to Corran and walk up the Arnisdale, or follow the road to Corran and then up the river. Miss McLeod has her own ways of getting about this country, though, and she may even know some way of avoiding the difficulties of the Sgriol and the other intervening mountains.”
Hilderman looked at me in considerable surprise for a moment.
“You seem to know the district pretty well yourself, Mr. Ewart,” he remarked.
“Well, I ought to,” I explained; “I was born in Glenmore.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that,” he murmured; “that accounts for it, then.” And at that moment we heard the train approaching, and we hurried into the station to meet our respective visitors.
“Fact or fancy?” asked Garnesk in an undertone as we strolled down the platform, Hilderman having hurried on ahead.
“Fancy,” I replied. “I took it you wanted me to avoid giving him the precise details.”
“Yes, I did,” he laughed. “But you certainly made them precise enough. It is better to be careful how you explain these things to strangers.”
“Why?” I asked. “If we suspected Hilderman I should be inclined to agree with you that we should feed him up with lies; and if you think it will help us at all to suspect him I’m on at once. But as we both feel that his disposition is friendly and that we have no cause to doubt him, what is your reason for putting him off the scent every time? I know you well enough by this time to feel sure that you haven’t been making these cryptic remarks for the sake of hearing yourself speak.”