Then suddenly the conjunction of a total stranger--American, too, so she could hear--with a rod on her brother's river, in company with one of her brother's gillies, struck her as odd. "I am afraid my fish and I have detained you very long," she said. "You are fishing at Scarsdale, I suppose." "No, I am fishing here," he said. "At least, I shall walk down a mile or two, and try the lower pools." This was more solidly incomprehensible. Yet the man did not look in the least like a poacher or trespasser. And how did it come about that Duncan was with him? Maud grew just a shade dignified, though she was still quite cordial. "I'm sure you will excuse me," she said; "but, you know, this is my brother's river, Lord Thurso's." Again the stranger laughed with sincere and quiet merriment. "Oh yes, I know," he said. "But, you see, he has been kind enough to let the fishing to me until the end of July." Maud stood quite silent a moment. A situation so horrible was dawning on her that she was unable to speak. What had he said? That Thurso had let him the fishing? Then, what was she? A poacher, caught red-handed by the tenant himself. "What?" she said. "Say it again." The stranger took off his hat. "May I introduce myself?" he said. "I am Mr. Bertie Cochrane. Excuse me; I really can't help laughing. Why, it's just killing!" Maud, already flushed with excitement and exercise, grew perfectly crimson. "Oh, what am I to do?" she said. "It is too awful! How can you laugh? I can never forgive myself." She raised her eyes to his again, and saw there such genuine, kindly amusement that, in spite of her horror, she laughed too. "Oh, don't make me laugh," she said. "It is too dreadful. Poaching! I thought it was you who were going to poach, and it's been me!" "Yes, it's serious," he said; "and it's for me to make conditions." Maud had one moment's fleeting terror that he was going to make an ass of himself, as she phrased it: ask to kiss her hand or do something dreadful. But he did not look that kind of donkey. "Oh, my conditions are not difficult," he said. "I only insist on your not cutting short your day's fishing." "Don't," she said. "I couldn't fish any more. Thank you very much, but I really think I couldn't." "I think you should make an effort. You must consider me as insisting. You won't get in my way, nor I in yours. I meant to go a couple of miles down--I did indeed."