Yet, mixed with the exhilaration of this cold, bracing air, the memory of the pleasant day before, the sense of recuperation after his excellent night, there came the feeling as he got up and dressed, turning over these events in his head, that he had been tricked. He had no idea how the trick was done, or how it was that he could have gone to sleep when, if he had but kept awake so short a time, he would have enjoyed, and that with no sense of concealment or surreptitious dealing, the one sensation that turned life into paradise. Certainly it had been extremely neatly done. As a conjurer, Cochrane's sleight of mind, so to speak, was of the most finished sort, for, as has been said, Thurso had had no sense of his presence or intimation of his influence. Cochrane, however, would be here to-day, and perhaps he would explain. But the feeling of having been tricked somehow piqued him, and the pique was not lessened by the fact that he could not guess how the trick was done. Of course, it must have been suggestion or hypnotism in some form; but the odd thing was that neither Maud nor Cochrane had suggested to him at all that he should go to sleep. He had gone to sleep by accident without intending to do anything of the sort, and without any feeling that others were intending it for him. While he was dressing he heard the sound of sleigh-bells, which probably betokened Cochrane's arrival, and when he got downstairs he found him and Maud already breakfasting. Cochrane nodded to him. "Good morning," he said. "Now Lady Maud will tell you that neither she nor I have spoken a word about you this morning. I know nothing of what has happened here since I left last night. I told her, by the way, just before I left, to promise to get your drink for you, if you wanted it, at twelve o'clock midnight. Now let's hear what happened." "I went to Thurso's room at twelve and knocked," said Maud. "There was no answer, so I went in. I called him several times, I even touched him, but he didn't wake." Cochrane laughed. "I call that pretty good," he said. "Oh, this is childish!" broke in Thurso. "Maud, do you swear that that is true?" "Of course." "Well, you or Mr. Cochrane must have hypnotised me or drugged me," he said. "I know less about hypnotism than I know of the inhabitants of Mars," said Cochrane. "Or what do you think we drugged you with?" "Well, how did you do it, then?" he asked. "I congratulate you, anyhow. It was very neat." "I didn't do it. I had no idea, at least, whether you were asleep or awake at midnight. I only knew that Divine Love was looking after you." Something rather like a sneer came into Thurso's voice. "Did--ah! did Divine Love tell you so?" he asked. "Yes, most emphatically. He has promised to look after us all, you know, and do everything that is good for us. My word! you've never seen such a beauty of a morning outside. Cold, though."