For a moment I thought of a passage at arms with a pretty housemaid as a solution. But it would obviously have been much quicker and simpler for any other party to flee the room than to make for the window and lower the blind. No; something had to be done which took a few minutes to do. I thought instantly of one possibility--the folding up or putting away of maps or plans. No doubt there were several other possibilities, but there seemed the best of reasons for not giving these worthy gentlemen my confidence. In fact quite a different course of action suggested itself. Transfixing the doctor suddenly with a significant eye, I demanded in rather a low voice, "Are there many sheep in this island?" I still think it was a shot well worth risking, but to be quite candid it failed to come off. At least it did not come off entirely. Both the gentlemen certainly looked a little startled, but all Dr. Rendall did was to stare at me very hard, while O'Brien exclaimed. "Faith, he's a dealer!" But again I refused the proffered explanation, even though it was quite evidently the easiest way of accounting for myself. "No," said I, "but I am very greatly interested in your beautiful island, Dr. Rendall. What a convenient spot to own!" I still threw a touch of significance into my remark--especially on the word "convenient"--but this time I got a wholly unexpected answer. "But I am sorry to say I don't own it," said the doctor. "I am afraid you must be mistaking me for my cousin, Philip Rendall. He's the laird; I'm only the doctor." "The damned doctor," added Mr. O'Brien with a grin. I began to apologise, but O'Brien who was by this time in capital spirits, interrupted me with, "Faith, you needn't apologise, Mr. Merton. As long as you're not one of my damned relations I'm delighted to see you, and the doctor here is always pining for a fresh face. He's getting sick of mine!" This remark seemed to have a spice of malice behind it, and the doctor certainly frowned, but I was so anxious to seize this opportunity of putting a question or two that I did not stop to wonder what was implied; not, at least, till afterwards. "I suppose you have little society in this charming island?" I suggested. O'Brien was certainly ready enough to give me exactly the information I was after. "There are just four civilised houses in the whole place, counting this," said he. "There's the laird's--and saving the dear doctor's presence I must say his cousin is a damned queer fish, besides being as poor as he's cranky, and there are the two ministers, only one's away and the other's as dry as my own throat's getting. What do you say to a drink, doctor?" He grinned at Dr. Rendall with a malicious significance I could make nothing of. I could see that it perturbed the doctor, who answered in evident embarrassment, "If Mr. Merton would care for a glass of lemonade"