for ever.'

thought Merton. 'Chicago is the realisation of their dream. Hullo,
there are the lights of a big steamer, and a very low one behind it!
Queer craft!'

Merton watched the lights that crossed the sea, when either the haze
deepened or the fainter light on the smaller vessel vanished, and the
larger ship steamed on in a southerly direction. 'Magic boat of Bran!'
thought Merton. He turned and entered the staircase to go back to his
room. There was a lift, of course, but, equally of course, there was
nobody to manage it. Merton, who had a lighted bedroom-candle in his
hand, descended the spiral staircase; at a turning he thought he saw,
'with the tail of his eye,' a plaid, draping a tall figure of a
Highlander, disappear round the corner. Nobody in the castle wore the
kilt except the piper, and he had not rooms in the observatory. Merton
ran down as fast as he could, but he did not catch another view of the
plaid and its wearer, or hear any footsteps. He went to the bottom of
the staircase, opened the outer door, and looked forth. Nobody! The
electric light from the open door of his own room blazed across the
landing on his return. All was perfectly still, and Merton remembered
that he had not heard the footsteps of the appearance. 'Was it Eachain?'
he asked himself. 'Do I sleep, do I dream?'

He went back to bed and slumbered uneasily. He seemed to be awake in his
room, in broad light, and to hear a slow drip, drip, on the floor. He
looked up; the roof was stained with a great dark splash of a crimson
hue. He got out of bed, and touched the wet spot on the floor under the
blotch on the ceiling.

His fingers were reddened with blood! He woke at the horror of it: found
himself in bed in the dark, pressed an electric knob, and looked at the
ceiling. It was dry and white. 'I certainly have been smoking too much
lately,' thought Merton, and, switching off the light, he slumbered
again, so soundly that he did not hear the piper playing round the house,
or the man who brought his clothes and hot water, or the gong for
breakfast.

When he did wake, he was surprised at the lateness of the hour, and
dressed as rapidly as possible. 'I wonder if I was dreaming when I
thought that I went out on the roof, and saw mountains and marvels,' said
Merton to himself. 'A queer thing, the human mind,' he reflected sagely.
It occurred to him to enter the smoking-room on his way downstairs. He
routed two maid