'Come an' lat me see 't direckly,' cried Robert, starting up, with a terrible foreboding at his heart. They were in the street in a moment. Shargar led the way by a country lane to the top of the hill on the right, and then turning to the left, brought him to some houses standing well apart from each other. It was a region unknown to Robert. They were the backs of the houses of which Mr. Lindsay's was one. 'This is the hoose,' said Shargar. Robert rushed into action. He knocked at the door. Mr. Lindsay's Jenny opened it. 'Is yer mistress in, Jenny?' he asked at once. 'Na. Ay. The maister's gane to Bors Castle.' 'It's Miss Lindsay I want to see.' 'She's up in her ain room wi' a sair heid.' Robert looked her hard in the face, and knew she was lying. 'I want to see her verra partic'lar,' he said. 'Weel, ye canna see her,' returned Jenny angrily. 'I'll tell her onything ye like.' Concluding that little was to be gained by longer parley, but quite uncertain whether Mysie was in the house or not, Robert turned to Shargar, took him by the arm, and walked away in silence. When they were beyond earshot of Jenny, who stood looking after them, 'Ye're sure that's the hoose, Shargar?' said Robert quietly. 'As sure's deith, and maybe surer, for I saw him come oot wi' my ain een.' 'Weel, Shargar, it's grown something awfu' noo. It's Miss Lindsay. Was there iver sic a villain as that Lord Rothie--that brither o' yours!' 'I disoun 'im frae this verra 'oor,' said Shargar solemnly. 'Something maun be dune. We'll awa' to the quay, an' see what'll turn up. I wonner hoo's the tide.' 'The tide's risin'. They'll never try to win oot till it's slack watter--furbye 'at the Amphitrite, for as braid 's she is, and her bows modelled efter the cheeks o' a resurrection cherub upo' a gravestane, draws a heap o' watter: an' the bar they say 's waur to win ower nor usual: it's been gatherin' again.' As they spoke, the boys were making for the new town, eagerly. Just opposite where the Amphitrite lay was a public-house: into that they made up their minds to go, and there to write a letter, which they would give to Miss Lindsay if they could, or, if not, leave with Skipper Hoornbeek. Before they reached the river, a thick rain of minute drops began to fall, rendering the night still darker, so that they could scarcely see the vessels from the pavement on the other side of the quay, along which they were hurrying, to avoid the cables, rings, and stone posts that made its margin dangerous in the dim light. When they came to The Smack Inn they crossed right over to reach the Amphitrite. A growing fear kept them silent as they approached her berth. It was empty. They turned and stared at each other in dismay. One of those amphibious animals that loiter about the borders of the water was seated on a stone smoking, probably fortified against the rain by the whisky inside him.