She glanced furtively over her shoulder: it was only now that Big Archie had made his appearance—coming down the beach to the spot at which young Ross was idly walking about. "Käthchen," she said of a sudden, with something of piteous vexation in her tone, "are you certain you said ’most particularly’?—are you quite certain?—I—I did not mean it—I was in a hurry—you did not say ’most particularly,’ did you? At the same time," she went on, with an abrupt affectation of carelessness, "it is of very little consequence—no consequence whatever: the only thing is that the Highlanders appear to have odd manners—and that again, as I say, is a matter of perfect indifference. Don’t forget to mention the patchwork quilts and the stockings." But Kate Glendinning rose and went to the window. By this time Donald Ross, Big Archie, and the young lad were all in the dinghy, on their way out to the lugger. "There is something strange, Mamie," Käthchen said, thoughtfully. "I cannot imagine what made him refuse to come along to this house—and refuse with such embarrassment. And these are not Highland manners at all. But sometimes a Highlander is too proud to speak." They were soon to learn what all this meant. When the two young men returned from their afternoon expedition, it appeared that they had got thirteen and a half brace of grouse, and a few odds and ends—a very fair bag, considering the size of the moor and the length of time they had been out. But it was not the success of the shooting that caused Fred Stanley to come into the drawing-room with something of a gay and triumphant air. "Well, we have caught your poaching friend at last," he said to his sister, "and I think we have sent him home with a flea in his ear. I knew we should corner him sooner or later, in spite of his cunning. And a very pretty trick it was—to plan this insurrectionary meeting for the Twelfth, so that we should be kept away from the hill, keepers and all. But it didn’t work, you see; for we lost no time in getting up to the Corrie Bhreag, and there he was, sure enough. And very little he had to say for himself—not a word!—but I had something to say to him; and I don’t think we shall be troubled with his presence about Lochgarra for some little time to come." "Are you speaking of Mr. Ross?" said Mary, with a certain calmness of manner that did not quite conceal her alarm. "I should think I was!" "And what did you find him doing?" "I found him on the moor—where he had no right to be; and if the rest of the gang managed to hide themselves or to get safe away, well, I did not care much about that; he was there to answer for them; and so we had it out. Yes, I may say we had it out." Mary turned to Frank Meredyth. "Mr. Meredyth, what is all this about? What happened? Did you find Mr. Ross shooting on the moor?"