Richard Hannay has “some nasty falls into peat-bogs…”

 

“…Twice I lost my way, and I had some nasty falls into peat-bogs. I had only about ten miles to go as the crow flies, but my mistakes made it nearer twenty. The last bit was completed with set teeth and a very light dizzy head. But I managed it, and in the early dawn I was knocking at Mr. Turnbull’s door. The mist lay close and thick, and from the cottage I could not see the highroad.
Mr. Turnbull himself opened to me- sober and something more than sober. He was primly dressed in an ancient but well-tended suit of black; he had been shaved not later than the night before; he wore a linen collar; and in his left hand he carried a pocket Bible. At first he did not recognise me.
“Whae are ye that comes stravaigin’ here on the Sabbath mornin’?” he asked.BA001BE5-79EC-44A9-B506-1EDCC58C8488

Polygon, Edinburgh 2011 isbn 9781846971983

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s