And again, after they had left the Minister, and were on their way back to Lochgarra House, he urgently begged her to abandon this enterprise; and her brother joined in, and quite as warmly. "Why, you are the very person they have come to denounce!" Fred Stanley exclaimed. "You are the representative of the landlords. And what will they think of your appearing at the meeting? They will take it as an open challenge!" "I mean it as an open challenge," she said, proudly. "I want to know what I am accused of. I want to ask what more I could have done—with my limited means. For of course my means are limited. I can’t build breakwaters, and buy fleets of fishing-boats, and make railways; for I haven’t the money. And I can’t change the soil, or alter the climate, or even alter the habits of the people." "What did I tell you, Mamie, at Invershin Station?" said Käthchen; but Mary Stanley went on unheeding— "If there are grievances still to be redressed, I want to hear of them." "Their real grievance is that they haven’t got the land for nothing," observed her brother, who had a short and summary way of dealing with such questions. "Well, if you must go, at least we can promise you a body-guard," said Frank Meredyth, as they were ascending the wide stone steps. "At the same time, I think you would be very much better advised to stay at home." That afternoon the ordinary dull somnolence of a Lochgarra Sunday gave way to a quite unusual, if subdued, excitement. To begin with, about half-past three a waggonette came rattling into the silent little village, and drew up at the inn; while its occupants—the three apostles of Land Liberation—descended and disappeared from view. They were not gone long, however. The cottagers, furtively peeping from behind door or window-blind, beheld the strangers come out again and set off for a walk along the sea-front, scanning every object on each hand of them as they passed. The central figure of the three was a large and heavily-built man, pale and flabby of face, with small, piggish, twinkling eyes, close-cropped and stubbly yellow hair, and a wide but thin-lipped and resolute mouth. He wore a loose-flapping frock-coat, and a black felt wideawake; his hands were clasped behind him; he waddled as he walked. On his right was a tall and elderly woman, spare, and rather elegant of figure; with a thin, sharp face which, either from constitutional acridity of blood or perhaps from driving in the sun, was distinctly violent in colour: this was Ernestine—the fiery Ernestine—who had no doubt brought with her her torch and can of paraffin. As for the lady who had come all the way across the Atlantic to enlighten these poor souls of crofters, no one could say what she was like; for she was entirely enveloped in a brown dust-coat and a blue veil. But she was shorter than either of her companions.