TARN 93 



perienced a puff of warm air in passing ; 

 but the cold, grey dew was falling on 

 moor and meadow before the last traces 

 of day had vanished from the western 

 sky. 



When the summit of the first hill had 

 been reached, the way lay across grassy 

 sheepwalks interspersed with bog and 

 rocky ground. Here my ferret-faced 

 companion took the lead. He shuffled 

 along his trousers were always too 

 long for him with a quick, uneasy step, 

 following the path, which was scarcely 

 discernible in the darkness, as if by 

 scent. Instinctively he avoided bump- 

 ing against projecting stones, and by the 

 sound of his footsteps he could say when 

 he was nearing dangerous ground. He 

 threaded his way across the wide moor 

 in silence. The only occasion upon 

 which he looked aside and appeared to 

 forget the dread black lake, with its aw- 

 ful precipitous sides and their uncanny 



