"And if there are any of those mischievous lads about, why, if he were to catch one of them, a little trip across to Dingwall might frighten the others, wouldn’t it?" "Just that, mem." "There is old John at the inn—he seems to do nothing—does he know anything about the river?" "Oh, yes, indeed—he was many a day a gillie," Hector made answer. "Very well; see what wages he wants; and tell him that when he suspects there’s any poaching going on, or any mischief of any kind, you and Hugh will give him a hand in the watching." "Very well, mem." And so the tall, bushy-bearded Hector was going away; but Fred Stanley stopped him. The young man’s sombre suspicions had not been dissipated by those vague references to mischievous lads. "Hector," said he, "is Mr. Ross of Heimra a keen fisherman?" "I could not seh, sir," was Hector’s grave and careful answer. "Does he know the Garra well?" "I could not seh, sir," Hector repeated. "You don’t happen to have seen or heard anything of him of late?" "No, sir," said Hector; and then he added, "but I was noticing the yat coming over from Heimra this morning." "Oh, really," exclaimed the young man, with a swift glance towards Frank Meredyth. "The yacht came over this morning? So Mr. Ross is in the neighbourhood?" "Maybe, sir; but I have not seen him whatever." That seemed to be enough for the cross-examiner. "All right, Hector—thank you. Good evening!" The head keeper withdrew; and Fred Stanley turned to his sister. "I thought as much," said he. "I had a notion that Robinson Crusoe had come ashore from his desolate island. And no doubt he was very much surprised and disgusted to find two strangers intruding upon his favourite salmon pools—on the very first evening there has been a chance of a cast for some time. But he should not have allowed his anger to get the better of him; it was a childish trick, that flinging a stone into the water; a poor piece of spite—for one who claims to represent an old Highland family. Don’t you think so, Mamie?" Well, this at least was certain—that the _Sirène_ had come across from Heimra, and was now lying in the Camus Bheag, or Little Bay. And the very next afternoon, as Mary Stanley and her friend Käthchen were seated at a table in the drawing-room busily engaged in comparing samples of dyed wool, the door was opened, and Barbara appeared. "Mr. Ross, mem!" said Barbara. CHAPTER VI. A THREATENED INVASION.