“I want you to take me to Castle Douglas to-night--now--as soon as you can get ready. I wish to get there as soon as I can. You will want to have everything right, for we must have no break-down if we can help it. And you must have good lamps.” “’Twill be all right, sir. We shan’t, I expect, break down. But if we do--the motor is a new one and I did not make it--_I_ shall put it right. I am a first-rate _mechanicien_ and an accomplished driver. …” “All right; but don’t talk. Get the car ready, and we shall start at once.” “We can start at once, so far as the car and I are concerned. But we lack something as yet. We must have a pilot.” “A pilot! I thought you knew the way.” “On paper, yes; and I doubt not I could get there all right--in time. But you want to go quick; and we would lose time finding out the way. Remember we are going in the dark.” Then turning to the proprietor he said: “Perhaps you can help us here, sir. Have you any one who can pilot?” “Not a chauffeur; but I have a coachman who knows all round here for a couple of days’ journey. I have no doubt that he knows that road amongst the others. He could sit beside you and direct you how to go!” “Right! Can you get him soon?” “At once. He lives over the stables. I shall send for him now.” He rang the bell and when the servant came gave his message. And so that matter was settled and the journey arranged. The chauffeur went to have a last look over the motor car, and to bring it round to the door. All the time of the interview Colonel Ogilvie stood silent, keeping erect and rigid. He was so stern and so master of himself that Judy wished now that he had less self-control. She feared the new phase even more than the old. Then care for what had still to be done took hold of her. She took her sister away to prepare a little basket of food and wine for Colonel Ogilvie and the men with him; they would need some sustenance on their long, arduous journey. Those kindly offices kept both women busy whilst Colonel Ogilvie was putting on warm clothes for the night travelling. Presently Mrs. Ogilvie joined him. When they were alone she said to him somewhat timidly: “You will be tender, dear, with Joy? The child is young, and a harsh word spoken in anger at a time when she is high-strung and nervous and tired and frightened might be a lasting sorrow to her!” She half expected that he would resent her speaking at all. She was surprised as well as pleased when, putting his hands kindly on her shoulders, he said: