was really very sad for poor Jeff that the otter hounds should visit
the neighbourhood at this juncture. He had to watch Uncle Hugh and
Brian starting at daybreak three times a week to participate in the
sport. His poor heart was very sore all the time, for Uncle Hugh had
not believed him, and there was no one in whom he could confide. It
was a terrible anguish to bear all alone, and the injustice of his
punishment was the sorest part of his trouble.

Maggie had gone away to live at her brother Sandy's cottage soon after
her return, and he might not even go down and see her now.

Meanwhile, Brian kept the knife that really belonged to Jeff, for Uncle
Hugh had not given back the delinquent's implement. It seemed to Jeff
that his cousin took delight in parading his possession and assuming
innocence. He went out of his way to assert his virtue.

One evening, watching the waning light from an upstairs window, Jeff
saw a little skiff shoot out into the open space of water, not shadowed
by the hills. There was a little figure in it. Here was a glorious
opportunity to go down and tell Uncle Hugh and establish his own truth.
For a few seconds a conflict went on in his breast, and then with a
heavy sigh he laid his head on the window sill and burst into
passionate sobbing. When it was almost dark the fit of weeping had
passed off. But he remained at the open window, breathing the balmy
air. Suddenly he was startled by a cry from the water. In vain his
eyes sought to pierce the gathering gloom. Again the cry. Forgetting
all restrictions, with a sudden uncontrollable impulse, he rushed down
the stairs and out into the garden to the lake side.

CHAPTER V.

"Papa, papa! oh, come quickly! There's some one drowning in the lake.
And oh! I was standing in the hall when Jeff rushed down-stairs and out
of the front door, with his face all white and his eyes staring. He
must have seen from upstairs--he was standing at the window, you know.
Oh papa, perhaps it is Brian; he never came in to tea."

Little Jessie, with eyes distended and panting breath, astonished Mr.
Colquhoun and her mother by the unusual impropriety of bursting open
the dining-room door at dinner-time. In a moment her father was on his
feet and out of the door, followed by the butler and footman. A
presentiment of how it had all happened flashed upon him as he hurried
down to the edge of the water. There were cries, muffled cries,
growing grad