The truth is, however, that Mary was far from encouraging him to accompany her on her expeditions; and would rather have had him go and talk to the keepers about the dogs. For one thing, she did not wish him to know how remote this little community still was from the Golden Age which she hoped in time to establish. For another, she was half afraid that those people whose obduracy she was patiently trying to overcome might suddenly say among themselves, "Oh, here are more strangers come to spy and inquire. And these are the fine gentlemen who have taken away the shooting and the fishing that by rights should belong to Young Donald. We do not want them here; no, nor the _Baintighearna_ either; let her keep to her own friends. We do not wish to be interfered with; we are not slaves; when her uncle bought Lochgarra, he did not buy us." And thus it was that she did not at all approve of those two young men coming with her to the door of this or that cottage, standing about smoking cigarettes, and scanning everything with a cold and critical Saxon eye: she wished that the Twelfth were here, and that she could have them packed off up the hill out of everybody’s way. Meanwhile, what had become of Donald Ross of Heimra? Nothing had been heard or seen of him since the moonlight night on which they had watched him go out to the _Consuelo_; and next day the big steam-yacht left the harbour. Mary, though not saying much, became more and more concerned; his silence and absence made her think over things; sometimes Käthchen caught her friend looking out towards Heimra Island, in a curiously wistful way. And at last there came confession—one evening that Fred Stanley and Frank Meredyth had gone off on a stenlock-fishing expedition. "I hope I am not distressing myself about nothing, Käthchen," Mary said, "but the more I think of it the more I fear——" "What?" "That something happened to offend Mr. Ross the evening he dined here. Oh, I don’t mean anything very serious—any actual insult——" "I should think not!" said Käthchen. "I thought he was treated with the greatest consideration. He took you in to dinner, to begin with. Then you simply devoted yourself to him all the evening——" "But don’t you think, Käthchen," Mary said—and she rose and went to the window, evidently in considerable trouble—"don’t you think that Fred and Mr. Meredyth—yes, and you, too—that you kept yourselves just a little too openly to yourselves—it was hardly fair, was it?" "Hardly fair!" Käthchen exclaimed. "To leave you entirely to him? I wonder what young man would complain of that! I think he ought to be very grateful to us. If he had wished, he could have listened to Mr. Meredyth—who was most amusing, really; but as you two seemed to have plenty to say to each other—we could not dream of interfering——"