Balnillo gave his guest a critical look, and was met by all the soft darkness of a pair of liquid brown eyes which drooped at the outer corners, and were set under thick brows following their downward lines. Gentleness, inquiry, appeal, were in them, and a quality which the judge, like other observers, could not define--a quality that sat far, far back from the surface. In spite of the eyes, there was no suggestion of weakness in the slight young man, and his long chin gave his olive face gravity. Speech and looks corresponded so little in him that Balnillo was bewildered; but he was a hospitable man, and he moved aside to make room for Archie on the hearth. The latter was a sorry sight, as far as mud went; for his coat was splashed, and his legs, from the knee down, were of the colour of clay. He held his hands out to the blaze, stretching his fingers as a cat stretches her claws under a caressing touch. "Sit down and put your feet to the fire," said the judge, drawing forward one of the large armchairs, "and James, do you call for another glass. When did you dine, Mr. Flemington?" "I did not dine at all, my lord. I was anxious to push on to Montrose, and I pushed on to destruction instead." He looked up with such a whimsical smile at his own mishaps that Balnillo found his mouth widening in sympathy. "I will go and tell them to make some food ready," said the captain, in answer to a sign from his brother. Balnillo stood contemplating the young man; the lines round his eyes were relaxing a little; he was fundamentally inquisitive, and his companion matched no type he had ever seen. He was a little disturbed by his assurance, yet his instinct of patronage was tickled by the situation. "I am infinitely grateful to you," said Archie. "I know all the inns in Brechin, and am very sensible how much better I am likely to dine here than there. You are too kind." "Then you know these parts?" "My home is at the other end of the county--at Ardguys." "I am familiar with the name," said Balnillo, "but until lately, I have been so much in Edinburgh that I am out of touch with other places. I am not even aware to whom it belongs." "It is a little property, my lord--nothing but a few fields and a battered old house. But it belongs to my grandmother Flemington, who brought me up. She lives very quietly." "Indeed, indeed," said the judge, his mind making a cast for a clue as a hound does for the scent. He was not successful. "I had not taken you for a Scot," he said, after a moment. "I have been told that," said Archie; "and that reminds me that it would be proper to tell your lordship what I am. I am a painter, and at this moment your hall is full of my paraphernalia." Lord Balnillo did not usually show his feelings, but the look which, in spite of himself, flitted across his face, sent a gleam of entertainment through Archie.