But by the time they had started upon their journey
north, his spirits rose a trifle; and when at length
all lowland landscapes were left far behind them, and
they had come into a province of peat streams and
granite pinnacles, with the gloom of pines and the
freshness of the birch blended like a May and December
marriage, all appearance, at least, of disquietude
had passed away.

Yet the Count kept an anxious eye upon him. He
was becoming decidedly restless. At one moment he
would rave about the glorious scenery; the next,
plunge into a brown study of the Tulliwuddle rent-
roll; and then in an instant start humming an air and
smoking so fast that both their cases were empty while
they were yet half an hour from Torrydhulish Station.
Now the Baron took to biting his nails, looking at his
watch, and answering questions at random--a very different
spectacle from the enthusiastic traveller of
yesterday.

"Only ten minutes more," observed Bunker in his
most cheering manner.

The Baron made no reply.

They were now running along the brink of a
glimmering loch, the piled mountains on the farther shore
perfectly mirrored; a tern or two lazily fishing; a
delicate summer sky smiling above. All at once Count