as
done to-night."

"Ah! then you have found your needle in the haystack after all?" cried
Doom, vastly interested.

"Found the devil!" cried Montaiglon, a shade of vexation in his
countenance, for he had not once that day had a thought of all that had
brought, him into Scotland. "The haystack must be stuck full of needles
like the bran of a pin-cushion."

"And this one, who is not the particular needle named Drimdarroch?"

"I shall give you three guesses, M. le Baron."

Doom reflected, pulled out his nether lip with his fingers, looking hard
at his guest.

"It is not the Chamberlain?"

"_Peste!_" thought the Count, "can the stern unbending parent have
relented? You are quite right," he said; "no other. But it is not a
matter of the most serious importance. I lost my coat and the gentleman
lost a little blood. I have the best assurances that he will be on foot
again in a week or two, by which time I hope--at all events I expect--to
be out of all danger of being invited to resume the entertainment."

"In the meantime here's Doom, yours--so long as it is mine--while
it's your pleasure to bide in it if you fancy yourself safe from
molestation," said the Baron.

"As to that I think I may be tranquil. I have, there too, the best
assurances that the business will be hushed up."

"So much the better, though in any case this seems to have marred your
real engagements here in the matter of Drimdarroch."

Count Victor's turn it was to feel vexation now. He pulled his moustache
and reddened. "As to that, Baron," said he, "I pray you not to despise
me, for I have to confess that my warmth in the mission that brought me
here has abated sadly. You need not ask me why. I cannot tell you. As
for me and my affair, I have not forgotten, nor am I likely wholly to
forget; but your haystack is as _difficile_ as you promised it should
be, and--there are divers other considerations. It necessitates that I
go home. There shall be some raillery at my expense doubtless--_Ciel!_
how Louis my cousin will laugh!--but no matter."

He spoke a little abstractedly, for he saw a delicate situation
approaching. He was sure to be asked--once Annapla's service was
over--what led to the encounter, and to give the whole story frankly
involved Olivia's name unpleasantly in a vulgar squabble. He saw for the
first time that he had been wholly unwarranted in taking the defence of
the Baron's interests into his own hands. Could he boldly intimate