In an adjoining room they paused, and together bent over the dispatch. It was dated two days since, from Loch Carron, and signed by Captain Strange. It stated that Neil Mackenzie had encountered Muckle John and Rob Fraser in the inn of Loch Carron, and in an attempt to capture them had suffered both in body and reputation, and that unless he was permitted to take vengeance upon them he and his following would cease to interest themselves in the business of the Government further. That Neil Mackenzie, himself, was even now journeying to Fort Augustus to explain the matter, and that he advised that it might reflect less on the Government if the affair was left in Highland hands. The remainder of the dispatch dealt with the state of the district, the capture of Lord Lovat, and concluded with the words: "There are reasons why it would be expedient if neither Muckle John or Rob Fraser stood their trial, but were reduced to silence by some other course, in fact if your Highness could see your way to disarming their suspicions and the suspicions of the Jacobites in some way, it would leave the road clear for Mackenzie." "This Mackenzie," whispered Miss Macpherson, "is like to be the end of Rob I'm thinking. It is evident that he has suffered at the hands of Muckle John...." "And means mischief," added Castleleathers. In the room down the passage the snores of the Duke rolled peacefully on. Miss Macpherson paused, turning the matter over in her practical mind. "Have you ever seen this Neil Mackenzie?" she asked at last. He shook his head. "I never had dealings with Mackenzies," he replied. "Then why not take his place, my man? The Duke canna tell one tartan from another. Hear what he has to say. Tell him your people are mortally offended with Muckle John." "But what of Mackenzie himself?" Her face hardened. "Mackenzie must be sent upon his business," she said, "and what is more, he must never reach the Fort." "One ploy at a time," said Castleleathers, "and here goes for the first." With that he tip-toed back and replaced the dispatch, then with a heavy tread walked down the passage, and knocked upon the door. "Who is there?" cried the Duke starting from sleep. "Neil Mackenzie, your Highness." Cumberland pushed the chair about. In the room he saw a great man standing muffled to his face in a plaid. He had the bearing of a robber chief, but one never knew with these terrible Highlanders. "I 'ave 'eard ov you," said the Duke civilly enough, despite his harsh Teutonic voice, "two hours since I received a despatch from Captain Strange referring to some trouble between you and Muckle John." "My people," said Castleleathers, turning his face to the shadow, "have received an affront which can only be wiped out in one way. We are prepared to serve the Government with loyalty and we look to your Highness to remember it." The Duke took up the paper and read it through very carefully.