"What a land, or perhaps I should say sea, of surprises this is, to be sure!" he exclaimed. "The _Clansman_, I am informed by the factor, whom I met on his way to preaching, will anticipate her time by three whole days, owing to this Fast and some local market. She takes Carbost on the out instead of the in trip, and is due to-night, some time between seven and two in the morning. So I am afraid, my dear lady, that my delightful visit must come to a somewhat abrupt conclusion. I propose, therefore, going over--" "To Eval House," suggested Eustace. "No-o. To the hotel at dusk, so as to be on the spot." Lady Maud paled visibly. "And Cynthia! of course she and Captain Weeks will go too. Ah! what a sudden breakup of our pleasant party!" "You had better come with us, dear lady, and so reduce our regrets to a minimum," cried the professor gallantly. But the compliment fell flat. That was the fate of most remarks during breakfast, so that conversation dwindled to excerpts from Bradshaw's guide. Captain Weeks, who was generally a stand-by of placid good nature, was peculiarly low. He had made up his mind, come what might, to try his fate with Cynthia Strong before leaving, and now, though still determined, he felt hustled. She, in her turn, knew she had shilly-shallied in a way unworthy of a Girton girl until her opportunities of bringing the professor to book had dwindled to three days; two of them to be spent at sea, where she could not be sure of herself or him. As for Eustace and Maud, their rôle in the comedy of Life had been touched with tragedy for some time past. They felt dimly that the crisis had come. "We have never been to Eilean-a-fa-ash, after all," said Cynthia, pausing at the window on her way to pack, and looking regretfully to where the island lay out in the blue sea. "I thought we shouldn't," murmured Lady Maud in a low voice; "the Island of Rest is not for us." "It has been within reach all the time. It is so still," replied Eustace in the same tone. "We might have gone this morning if it hadn't been Fast Day," continued Cynthia, aggrieved. "Couldn't we bribe somebody? I want to go awfully, and so does the professor." "My failure to do so will be the only regret which can possibly mingle with my memories of Roederay." "Can't think why you all want to see it," remarked the captain, frowning at the professor's complimentary bows. "I went over one day--yes, I did, Miss Strong--to shoot seals. Didn't get any--worse luck! But it wasn't a bit pretty. Sand and bones and a stone coffin or two. The ghillie told me, too, that sometimes, after a north wind, it was awfully grim. The sand blows off, don't you know, and leaves skeletons and things. Not at all the place for ladies, don't you know." "I'm sorry to be obliged to differ," retorted Cynthia sharply. "In my opinion, there are no places where a woman should not be." "Nihil continget quod non ornavit," paraphrased the professor.