is the garment of my misery." Isbister looked at all the wild beauty of the sunlit cliffs about them and back to that face of despair.

For a moment he was silent.
He started, and made a gesture of impatient rejection.

"You get a night's sleep," he said, "and you won't see much misery out here.

Take my word for it." He was quite sure now that this was a providential encounter.

Only half an hour ago he had been feeling horribly bored.