hance?' asked Logan, putting his arm in Merton's in the old
schoolboy way.

'I would rather not speak about it,' said Merton. 'I had meant to go
myself on the Monday. Then came the affair of Sunday night,' and he
sighed.

'Then the somebody before was another somebody?'

'Yes,' said Merton, turning rather red.

'Men have died and the worms have eaten them, but not for love,' muttered
Logan.

IV. The Adventure of Eachain of the Hairy Arm

On arriving at the Castle Logan and Merton found poor Mr. Macrae
comparatively cheerful. Bude and Lady Bude had told what they had
gleaned, and the millionaire, recognising his daughter's hair-pin, had
all but broken down. Lady Bude herself had wept as he thanked her for
this first trace, this endearing relic, of the missing girl, and he
warmly welcomed Merton, who had detected the probable meaning of the
enigmatic 'Seven Hunters.'

'It is to _you_,' he said, 'Mr. Merton, that I owe the intelligence of my
daughter's life and probable comfort.'

Lady Bude caught Merton's eye; one of hers was slightly veiled by her
long lashes.

The telegrams of the day had only brought the usual stories of the
fruitless examination of yachts, and of hopes unfulfilled and clues that
led to nothing. The outermost islets were being searched, and a steamer
had been sent to St. Kilda. At home Mr. Gianesi had explained to Mr.
Macrae that he and his partner were forced, reluctantly, by the nature of
the case, to suspect treason within their own establishment in London, a
thing hitherto unprecedented. They had therefore installed a new machine
in a carefully locked chamber at their place, and Mr. Gianesi was ready
at once to set up a corresponding recipient engine at Castle Skrae. Mr.
Macrae wished first to remove the machine in the smoking-room, but Blake
ventured to suggest that it had better be left where it was.

'The conspirators,' he said, 'have made one blunder already, by
mentioning "The Seven Hunters," unless, indeed, that was intentional;
they _may_ have meant to lighten our anxiety, without leaving any useful
clue. They may make another mistake: in any case it is as well to be in
touch with them.'

At this moment the smoking-room machine began to tick and emitted a
message. It ran, 'Glad you visited the Hunters. You see we do ourselves
very well. Hope you drank our health, we left some bottles of champagne
on purpose. No nasty feeling, only a matter of business. Do h