"Not that—oh, no, Mamie, not that!" Käthchen said at once. "Don’t you see how he wishes to ignore it altogether? And surely you remember what he himself said about the pulling down of Castle Heimra? ’There are some things that are best not spoken of.’" "It is very generous of him," said Mary, absently. They drove away up the Minard road; and when they had got some distance past the top of the hill, they dismissed the carriage, and left the highway, striking across the rough high ground by a worn footpath. Presently they found far beneath them the sheltered waters of the Camus Bheag; and the first thing they saw there was the _Sirène_ at her moorings, with all her sails set and shining white in the morning sun. The next thing they perceived was that the two sailors, Coinneach and Calum, were on the beach, by the side of the yacht’s boat; while standing some way apart was Donald Ross. And who was this who was talking to him?—a young girl, whose light brown curly hair was half hidden by her scarlet shawl. "It is Anna Chlannach!" said Mary. "Now I have got her at last! She is always escaping me—and I want to convince her that I will not allow Mr. Purdie to lock her up in any asylum. Käthchen, couldn’t we get down some other way, so that she may not see us?" But at this very moment the girl down there happened to catch sight of them; and instantly she turned and fled, disappearing from sight in an incredibly short space of time. For one thing, the face of this hill was a mass of tumbled rocks, intermingled with long heather and thick-stemmed gorse, while skirting it was a plantation of young larch: most likely Anna Chlannach had made good her escape into this plantation. "Why did you let her go?" said Mary, reproachfully, when she had got down to the beach. "You knew I wanted to talk to her." "It isn’t easy reasoning with Anna Chlannach," said Donald Ross, with his quiet smile. "She still associates you with Purdie; she is afraid of you. And this time she was on other business; she was pleading with me to take her out to Heimra—offering me all the money she has got—her shells, you know—if I would take her out." "And why does she want to go out there?" Mary asked—her eyes still searching that rocky hill-side for the vanished fugitive. "To bring back her mother. Sometimes she forgets her fancy about the white bird, and thinks if she could only get out to Heimra she would bring back her mother alive and well. And it is no use trying to undeceive her." The men were waiting. Mary and Käthchen got into the stern of the boat; the others followed; and presently they were on their way out to the yawl. "How much bigger she is than I had imagined!" Mary said, as they were drawing near.