His eyes were on Ranna, so he did not notice me, but from my cover I scanned every line of him.

He looked an ordinary countryman, wearing badly cut, baggy knickerbockers of the kind that gillies affect.

He had a face like a Portuguese Jew, but I had seen that type before among people with Highland names; they might be Jews or not, but they could speak Gaelic.

Presently he disappeared.
He had followed my example and selected a hiding-place.
It was a clear, hot day, but very pleasant in that airy place.

Good scents came up from the sea, the heather was warm and fragrant, bees droned about, and stray seagulls swept the ridge with their wings.