"There are only three of them—there ought to be four," said Frank Meredyth, as the Lochgarra House party were regarding these passing strangers from the drawing-room window. "The big man is Ogden—he is easily recognisable—I’m afraid he has puffed himself out with too much tea-drinking; but where is the Highland Land Leaguer?" "Why, you don’t suppose the vice-president of a branch of the Highland Land League would travel on a Sunday?" said Käthchen. "He will be coming along to-morrow morning,—even if he has to walk or drive all night." Mary was also regarding the strangers. "If the American woman, whichever she is," said she, quietly, "is going to denounce me to-morrow, she has not left herself much time to get information about this place. She will have to begin at once, if she wishes to ascertain the facts." "The facts!" said Meredyth. "She won’t have to search about for them. She has brought them with her—from Connecticut." Truly this was an afternoon of surprises. For while on a rare occasion it might happen that someone arrived at Lochgarra on Sunday by road, it was almost an unheard-of thing that anyone should come in by sea. Boating of any description was quite unknown on the sacred day; there was no ferry—no Queen’s highway to be kept open; while as for going on the water for pleasure, such sacrilege never entered the brain of a native of Lochgarra. And yet here, unmistakeably, was a small black-hulled lugger, with a ruddy brown sail, coming steadily in before the light westerly breeze; and when, having at length gained the shelter of the quay, she was rounded into the wind, and yard and sail lowered, her occupants presently got into the little dinghey astern, and came ashore. From the drawing-room of Lochgarra House they were easily distinguishable: they were Big Archie, Donald Ross of Heimra, and the young lad who was usually in charge of the lugger. When they landed, young Ross left his companions, and went directly up to the inn. "Ha! didn’t I tell you?" Fred Stanley cried, with an air of triumph. "Before the storm the petrel!—I thought we should see him somewhere about, when this affair was coming off. Only, he has missed his confederates. I wonder if they have gone far. I suppose Mr. Ogden has taken his American friend up Minard way to show her what a crofter’s cottage is like—or perhaps she wants to look at the bed-ridden peat-hags. We shall find Ross following them in a moment—only he won’t know which way they have gone." Of a sudden he rose from his seat, as if struck by some new idea. "I’ve a great mind to go down to the inn. What do you say, Frank? I should like to step up to him and tell him that he’ll find his friends if he goes up the Minard road." "You shall do nothing of the kind!" said Mary, angrily. "I should like to see the expression of his face!" her brother observed.