Logan took a lighted candle--the night was frosty, without a wind--and led Merton out under the black, ivy-clad walls. Merton threw his greatcoat on the snow and knelt on it, peering at the object. He saw a large flat clod of snow and earth. On its surface was the faint impress of a long oval, longer than the human foot; feathery marks running in both directions from the centre could be descried. Looking closer, Merton detected here and there a tiny feather and a flock or two of down adhering to the frozen mass. 'May I remove some of these feathery things?' Merton asked. 'Certainly. But why?' 'We can't carry the clod indoors, it would melt; and it _may_ melt if the weather changes; and by bad luck there may be no feathers or down adhering to the other clods--those in the laird's ice-house.' 'You think you have a clue?' 'I think,' said Merton, 'that these are emu's feathers; but, whether they are or not, they look like a clue. Still, I _think_ they are emu's feathers.' 'Why? The emu is not an indigenous bird.' As he spoke, an idea--several ideas--flashed on Merton. He wished that he had held his peace. He put the little shreds into his pocket-book, rose, and donned his greatcoat. 'How cold it is!' he said. 'Logan, would you mind very much if I said no more just now about the feathers? I really have a notion--which may be a good one, or may be a silly one--and, absurd as it appears, you will seriously oblige me by letting me keep my own counsel.' 'It is damned awkward,' said Logan testily. 'Ah, old boy, but remember that "damned awkward" is a damned awkward expression.' 'You are right,' said Logan heartily; 'but I rose very early, I'm very tired, I'm rather savage. Let's go in and dine.' 'All right,' said Merton. 'I don't think,' said Logan, as they were entering the house, 'that I need keep these miners on sentry go any longer. The bird--the body, I mean--has flown. Whoever the fellows were that made these tracks, and however they got into and out of the house, they have carried the body away. I'll pay the watchers and dismiss them.' 'All right,' said Merton. 'I won't dress. I must return to town by the night train. No time to be lost.' 'No train to be caught,' said Logan, 'unless you drive or walk to Berwick from here--which you can't. You can't walk to Dunbar, to catch the 10.20, and I have nothing that you can drive.' 'Can I send a telegram to town?' 'It is four miles to the nearest telegraph station, but I dare say one of the sentinels would walk there for a consideration.' 'No use,' said Merton. 'I should need to wire in a cipher, when I come to think of it, and cipher I have none. I must go as early as I can to- morrow. Let us consult Bradshaw.' They entered the house. Merton had a Bradshaw in his dressing-bag. They found that he could catch a train at 10.49 A.M., and be in London about 9 P.M.