There was a moon somewhere, and the darkness was
not total, but the dreariness and isolation were the more felt from
the absence of all outlines being manifest. They even lost sight of
their own hands if they stretched out their arms, and their light
summer garments were already saturated with damp and would soon
freeze. No part of their bodies was free from that deadly chill save
where they could press against one another.
They were brave boys. Jock had collected himself again, and for some
time they kept up a show of mirth in the shakings and buffetings they
bestowed on one another, but they began to grow too stiff and spent
to pursue this discipline. Armine thought that the night must be
nearly over, and Jock tried to see his watch, but decided that he
could not, because he could not bear to believe how far it was from
day.
Armine was drowsily rubbing the ankle, mechanically murmuring
something to himself. Jock shook him, saying—-
"Take care, don't doze off. What are you mumbling about leisure?"
"O tarry thou the Lord's leisure. Be strong and-— Was I saying it
aloud?" he broke off with a start.
"Yes; go on."
Armine finished the verse, and Jock commented—-
"Comfort thine heart. Does the little chap mean it in a fix like
this?"
"Jock," said Armine, now fully awake, "I do want to say something.
Pages:
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376