“I will keep watch,” said Macdonald. “You ought to get a little sleep, my lord.” “I cannot sleep,” answered Lord Towyn, more to himself than to his new ally. “My veins seem full of quicksilver to-night, rather than full of blood. So near to her--so near!” He paced the deck alone in the mist and the darkness. Around him the watery gleams of light flickered upon the river, and from the wharves other watery gleams strayed, looking like reflections of the first. The bells rang the hours with muffled clangor. A strange ghostliness fell upon the dark river and the sleeping city. All through the night Lord Towyn continued his weary tramping to and fro upon the deck. One of the Macdonalds shared his vigil; the other slept. _The Arrow_ lay quietly at her moorings throughout the night, but at daybreak signs of activity were seen upon her deck. The morning had not fairly dawned when the yacht slipped out of the stream, heading toward Moray Frith. The breeze was favorable to her progress, without being astern, and she bowled away at a fine rate of speed. The young earl, looking through a sea glass, could distinguish four figures upon the deck of _The Arrow_, and one of these he recognized as that of Craven Black. “Shall we shake out the sails, my lord?” asked the elder Macdonald. “The yacht goes well, but I fancy we might show her the heels of _The Lucky_ in a fair race. We can keep her in sight the whole distance.” “That won’t do, Macdonald. Black must not suspect he’s followed. This mist is like a vail, and will conceal us if we keep at a reasonable distance behind. Let him get half way to Fort George, and then we will start.” In good time, when _The Arrow_ had made about the distance indicated as desirable, _The Lucky_ slipped from her moorings, and shaking out her sails as a bird shakes its wings, she flew onward over the waters in pursuit. The sloop was half-way to the fort, and the yacht was out of sight, when the baronet, fully dressed, and showing by his haggard face that he had not slept during the night, came out upon the deck. The young earl took Sir Harold’s arm and they walked the deck together, conversing in low tones. A little later, Mr. Atkins and Ryan appeared, and the four passengers adjourned to the cabin, where the younger Macdonald, who acted as steward, had set out upon the cabin table a formidable array of cold meats, bread, biscuits, and fruits, both fresh and preserved. A pot of hot coffee had also been provided, and a bowl of hot punch was ready for those who preferred it. After breakfast, the passengers returned to the deck. They passed Fort George in good time, and came out into the rougher waters of the Moray Frith. Here their progress was less rapid. _The Lucky_ lurched somewhat; but when she turned into the straits, and finally emerged into the smoother waters of Cromarty Frith, she was moving as steadily, although by no means as swiftly, as a bird upon the wing.