'By Jove!' said Merton and Logan in one voice. 'But that was all,' said Bude. 'There was no other trace, except that plainly people had been coming and going, and living there. They had left some empty bottles, and two intact champagne bottles. We tasted it, it was excellent! The Lewis men, who had not heard of the affair, could tell nothing more, except, what is absurd, that they had lately seen a dragon flying far off over the sea. A _dragon volant_, did you ever hear such nonsense? The interpreter pronounced it "draigon." He had not too much English himself.' 'The Highlanders are so delightfully superstitious,' said Lady Bude. Logan opened his lips to speak, but said nothing. 'I don't think we should keep Mr. Macrae waiting,' said Lady Bude. 'If Bude will take the reins,' said Merton, 'you and he can be at the Castle in no time. We shall walk.' 'Excuse me a moment,' said Logan. 'A word with you, Bude.' He took Bude aside, uttered a few rapid sentences, and then helped Lady Bude into the tandem. Bude followed, and drove away. 'Is your secret to be kept from me?' asked Merton. 'Well, old boy, you never told _me_ the mystery of the Emu's feathers! Secret for secret, out with it; how did the feathers help you, if they _did_ help you, to find out my uncle, the Marquis? _Gifgaff_, as we say in Berwickshire. Out with your feathers! and I'll produce my _dragon volant_, tail and all.' Merton was horrified. The secret of the Emu's feathers involved the father of Lady Fastcastle, of his old friend's wife, in a very distasteful way. Logan, since his marriage, had never shown any curiosity in the matter. His was a joyous nature; no one was less of a self-tormentor. 'Well, old fellow,' said Merton, 'keep your dragon, and I'll keep my Emu.' 'I won't keep him long, I assure you,' said Logan. 'Only for a day or two, I dare say; then you'll know; sooner perhaps. But, for excellent reasons, I asked Bude and Lady Bude to say nothing about the hallucination of these second-sighted Highland fishers. I have a plan. I think we shall run in the kidnappers; keep your pecker up. You shall be in it!' With this promise, and with Logan's jovial confidence (he kept breaking into laughter as he went) Merton had to be satisfied, though in no humour for laughing. 'I'm working up to my _denouement_.' Logan said. 'Tremendously dramatic! You shall be on all through; I am keeping the fat for you, Merton. It is no bad thing for a young man to render the highest possible services to a generous millionaire, especially in the circumstances.' 'You're rather patronising,' said Merton, a little hurt. 'No, no,' said Logan. 'I have played second fiddle to you often, do let me take command this time--or, at all events, wait till you see my plot unfolded. Then you can take your part, or leave it alone, or modify to taste. Nothing can be fairer.' Merton admitted that these proposals were loyal, and worthy of their old and tried friendship.