"I am a poor enough shot," said he, with a smile, "but I am even a worse fisherman. You see, there is hardly any shooting on Heimra Island, but there is still less fishing—none at all, practically. As for the shooting, there are some rabbits among the rocks, and occasionally I have seen a covey of grouse come flying across from the mainland; but the truth is, when you get used to the charm of quiet in a place like that, you don’t want to have it broken by the banging of a gun——" "Oh, no, of course not," said Mary, with a certain eagerness of assent—for she was overjoyed to find that nothing had come of her fancied indiscretion. "Of course not. I can quite imagine there must be a singular fascination in the solitariness of such an island, and the—the—silence. A fascination and a charm; and yet when Miss Glendinning and I have been up among the hills here, sometimes it has seemed too awful—too lifeless—it became terrible. Then out at Heimra—the sea being all round you in the night—and the bit of land so small—that must be a strange sensation; but perhaps you don’t notice it as a stranger might; you must have got used to it——" "Yes," said he, "it is very solitary and very silent. All the same," he added, rather absently, "I dare say I shall miss that very solitariness and silence when I go away from Heimra, as I hope to do ere long. I should not wonder if I looked back with some regret." "Oh, you are going away from Heimra—and before long?" Mary repeated—and Käthchen glanced quickly at her.