f sat down at the table, he ate
and drank, and induced Lady Bude to join him. 'Now, do let me persuade
you to go back and to try to sleep,' said Mr. Macrae gently. 'Your
husband is well accompanied.'

'It is not for him that I am afraid,' said the lady, who was in tears.

'I must arrange for the day's work,' said the millionaire, and Lady Bude
sighed and left him.

'First,' he said aloud, 'we must get the doctor from Lairg to see Blake.
Over forty miles.' He rang. 'Benson,' he said to the butler, 'order the
tandem for seven. The yacht to have steam up at the same hour. Breakfast
at half-past six.'

The millionaire then went to his own study, where he sat lost in thought.
Morning had come before the sound of voices below informed him that Bude
and Merton had returned. He hurried down; their faces told him all.
'Nothing?' he asked calmly.

Nothing! They had rowed along the loch sides, touching at every cottage
and landing-place. They had learned nothing. He explained his ideas for
the day.

'If you will allow me to go in the yacht, I can telegraph from Lochinver
in all directions to the police,' said Bude.

'We can use the wireless thing,' said Mr. Macrae. 'But if you would be
so good, you could at least see the local police, and if anything
occurred to you, telegraph in the ordinary way.'

'Right,' said Bude, 'I shall now take a bath.'

'You will stay with me, Mr. Merton,' said Mr. Macrae.

'It is a dreadful country for men in our position,' said Merton, for the
sake of saying something. 'Police and everything so remote.'

'It gave them their chance; they have waited for it long enough, I dare
say. Have you any ideas?'

'They must have a steamer somewhere.'

'That is why I have ordered the balloon, to reconnoitre the sea from,'
said Mr. Macrae. 'But they have had all the night to escape in. I think
they will take her to America, to some rascally southern republic,
probably.'

'I have thought of the outer islands,' said Merton, 'out behind the Lewis
and the Long Island.'

'We shall have them searched,' said Mr. Macrae. 'I can think of no more
at present, and you are tired.'

Merton had slept ill and strangely on the night of Saturday; on Sunday
night, of course, he had never lain down. Unshaven, dirty, with haggard
eyes, he looked as wretched as he felt.

'I shall have a bath, and then please employ me, it does not matter on
what, as long as I am at work for--you,' said Merton. He h