formality.

"There's a bit crack in the creature after all," said the Baron,
displaying embarrassment and annoyance, and he quickly changed the
conversation, but with a wandering mind, as Count Victor could not fail
to notice. The little man, to tell the truth, had somehow laughed at
the wrong moment for Count Victor's peace of mind. For why should he
be amused at the paucity of the visitors from Argyll's court to the
residence of Doom? Across the table at a man unable to conceal his
confusion Montaiglon stole an occasional glance with suspicion growing
on him irresistibly.

An inscrutable face was there, as many Highland faces were to him, even
among old friends in France, where Balhaldie, with the best possible
hand at a game of cards, kept better than any gambler he had ever known
before a mask of dull and hopeless resignation. The tongue was soft and
fair-spoken, the hand seemed generous enough, but this by all accounts
had been so even with Drimdarroch himself, and Drimdarroch was rotten to
the core.

"Very curious," thought Montaiglon, making poor play with his braxy ham.
"Could Bethune be mistaken in this extraordinary Baron?" And he patched
together in his mind Mungo's laughter with the Baron's history as
briefly known to him, and the inexplicable signal and alarm of the
night.

"Your Mademoiselle Annapla seems to be an entrancing vocalist," said he
airily, feeling his way to a revelation.

The Baron, in his abstraction, scarcely half comprehended.

"The maid," he said, "just the maid!" and never a word more, but into a
new topic.

"I trust so," thought the Count; "but the fair songster who signals
from her window and has clandestine meetings at midnight with masculine
voices must expect some incredulity on that point. Can it be possible
that here I have Bluebeard or Lothario? The laughter of the woman
seems to indicate that if here is not Lothario, here at all events is
something more than seems upon the surface. _Tonnerre de dieu!_ I become
suspicious of the whole breed of mountaineers. And not a word about last
night's alarm--that surely, in common courtesy, demands some explanation
to the guest whose sleep is marred."

They went out together upon the mainland in the forenoon to make
inquiries as to the encounter with the Macfarlanes, of whose presence
not a sign remained. They had gone as they had come, without the
knowledge of the little community on the south of Doom, and the very
place among t