"Yes, indeed, mem," said the old Highland dame, with wondering eyes. "But do you not know that the _Sirène_ is at the bottom of the sea? Was the master not writing to Miss Stanley about it?" "We have not heard a word," Käthchen exclaimed. "Dear, dear me now!" said Martha. "That is a stranche thing." "But tell me—tell me about it," said Käthchen anxiously. "There was no one drowned?" "No, no," said Martha, with much complacency. "There was plenty of time for them to get into the boat. And the master not writing to Miss Stanley at the same time he was writing to me—that is a stranche thing. But this was the weh of it, as he says; that it was an ahfu’ dark night, the night of the first day of the gale; and they were mekkin for shelter between Scalpa and Skye, and they had got through the Caol-Mòr, and were coming near to an anchorage, when they ran into a trading schooner that was lying there without a single light up. Without a single light, and the night fearful dark: I’m sure the men should be hanged that would do such a thing, to save a little oil." "And where is Mr. Ross now?" asked Käthchen. "Just in Greenock. He says he will try to get a place for Coinneach and for Calum, and will not trouble with a yat any more for the present. Ay, indeed," Martha went on, with a bit of a sigh, "and I’m thinking he will not be coming back soon to Heimra, when he says he will not trouble with a yat, and when he could have a yat easy enough with the insurance money——" "Is he at a hotel in Greenock?" "Ay, the Tontine Hotel," the old woman said. "And I am not liking what he says—that he is waiting for a friend, and they are going away from Greenock together. I am not liking that at ahl. There’s many a one sailed away from the Tail of the Bank that never came back again. And he says, if it is too lonely here for me and the young lass Maggie, we are to go over to Lochgarra and get lodgings; but how could I be leaving the house to the rain and the damp? Ay, lonely it is, except when Gillie Ciotach comes out to look after the lobster traps— "Well, Martha," said her visitor, "this time the Gillie Ciotach is going straight back again; for I’m rather in a hurry. And don’t you move over to the mainland until you hear further. I will come and see you sometimes if you are so lonely." And therewithal the industrious Kate hied her back to the lobster boat, and set out for Lochgarra again. Mary was lying on a sofa, her head half hidden by the cushion. She had been attempting to read; but her arm had fallen supinely by her side, and the book was half closed.