on my account."

She thought it was very kind of him to enquire.

"The master was only just in and out again," she assured him.

"He came to get his overcoat, I noticed," he remarked.

Mr. Carrington's powers of observation struck her as very surprising for
such an easy-going gentleman.

"Yes, sir, that was all."

"Well, I'm very glad it was all right," he smiled and began to turn
away. "By the way," he asked, turning back, "did he tell you where he is
going to now?"

"He didn't see me, sir."

"You didn't happen to overhear him giving any directions to the
chauffeur, did you? I noticed you at an open window."

For the first time Mary's sympathetic friend began to make her feel a
trifle uncomfortable. His eyes seemed to be everywhere.

"I thought I heard him say 'Keldale House,'" she confessed.

"Really!" he exclaimed and seemed to muse for a moment. In fact, he
appeared to be still musing as he walked away.

Mary began to wonder very seriously whether Mr. Carrington was going to
prove merely a fresh addition to the disquieting mysteries of that
house.

XXXVII

BISSET'S ADVICE

The short November afternoon was fading into a gusty evening, as Ned
Cromarty drew near his fortalice. He carried a gun as usual, and as
usual walked with seven league strides. Where the drive passed through
the scrap of stunted plantation it was already dusk and the tortured
boughs had begun their night of sighs and tossings. Beyond them, pale
daylight lingered and the old house stood up still clear against a
broken sky and a grey waste with flitting whitecaps all the way to the
horizon. He had almost reached the front door when he heard the sound of
wheels behind him. Pausing there, he spied a pony and a governess' car,
with two people distinct enough to bring a sudden light into his eye.
The pony trotted briskly towards the door, and he took a stride to meet
them.

"Miss Farmond!" he said.

A low voice answered, and though he could not catch the words, the tone
was enough for him. And then another voice said:

"Aye, sir, I've brought her over."

"Bisset!" said he. "It's you, is it? Well, what's happened?"

He was lifting her out of the trap and not hesitating to hold her hand
a little longer than he had ever held it before, now that he could see
her face quite plainly and read what was in her eyes.

"I've dared to come after all!" she said, with a little smile, which
seemed to hint that she knew the risk was