There were sea-fogs which swept up, and made the Tor so dangerous, Mrs. Grant affirmed; but Oscar always said "Fudge!" to this--a pet word of his, as he did on that fair March morning, when not a cloud or an atom of fog was to be seen anywhere, but all was cold and brilliant, as some March mornings are. "Just the morning for the old Tor," the lad said decisively: "the views splendid, sea and all." "But how about school and your uncle?" inquired Mrs. Grant. "Oh, they'll do very well, if you don't split upon me. I mean to go, and Inna won't be mean enough to go with me and play tell-tale-tit afterwards; and besides, uncle wouldn't refuse me this one day, just to show Inna the Tor." "But suppose we were to wait and ask him?" suggested Inna. "I can't wait. Dick Gregory and his sister are coming over. We shall make such a jolly party, and there'll be more fun to steal a march upon someone:" this was Oscar's reasoning. Perhaps Inna ought to have stood out against this stealing a march, as it was for her the expedition was said to be planned, but she said nothing; she had set her heart upon seeing the Tor, and realising somewhat of the thrilling sensation of an Alpine climber; and she was but nine--no great age for unerring wisdom. "Young people's heads are renowned for folly." Mrs. Grant said something like this when Dick and Jenny mustered at the gates, and the four set off, fortified with a good supply of sandwiches and other nice things in a satchel, which Oscar swung over his shoulder, traveller fashion; and so they started. The two little dwellers at the Owl's Nest looked out at them longingly at the park gates, as they passed that way; not far from the Black Hole, with its thrilling memories, did their road lead them. Then away on through young corn, and other crops that dared put forth their greenness in the cold health-giving March air; and anon they had reached the Tor. Up, up, still mounting up, they went, putting their best foot before, as their two guides admonished the girls, giving them many a tug and many a pull; and when they were half-way up, down they sat in the sunshine, and ate a lunch picnic, taking sundry sips of cold water from a bottle Oscar insisted on bringing, because he said climbing was such thirsty work in the clear cold air of the old Tor. Well, after this they went mounting up again, sometimes, like spiders, on all fours. "It does take the breath out of one," said Dick, tugging at Trapper, who, girl-like, kept slipping back, Oscar doing the same with Inna. Inna, the Londoner, was a very poor climber; but once on the summit, what exultant delight was there!--the blue heavens above their heads; the sunny landscape, in its dainty spring dress, at their feet; the Owl's Nest in the distance not nearly so imposing to look upon seen from that elevation; the sea--they could even discern somewhat of its shimmering upheaving, in this clearest of clear March mornings.