"Of course, dear, I wouldn't have you do anything else." And she turned and smiled at me, though there were tears in her dear eyes. "And I shall try to be brave, very brave, Ronnie. I'm getting a big girl now," she added pluckily, attempting a little laugh. And though, of course, we afterwards discussed the regiment I was to join, and how the uniform would suit me, and how you kept your buttons clean, and a thousand other things, that was the last that was said about it from that point of view. There are some people who never need to say certain things--or at any rate there are some things that never need be said between certain people. After lunch we strolled round the "fish-table," a sort of subsidiary pier on which the fish are auctioned, and listened to the excited conversations of the fish-curers, gutters, and fishermen. It was a veritable babel--the mournful intonation of the East Coast, the broad guttural of the Broomielaw, mingled with the shrill Gaelic scream of the Highlands, and the occasional twang of the cockney tourist. Having retrieved Sholto, who was inspecting some fish which had been laid out to dry in the middle of the village street, and packed him safely in the bows, we set out to sea, Myra at the engine, while I took the tiller. As we glided out of the harbour I turned round, impelled by some unknown instinct. The parson's dog was standing at the head of the main pier, seeing us safely off the premises, and beside him was the tall figure of my friend J. G. Hilderman. As I looked up at him I wondered if he recognised me; but it was evident he did, for he raised his cap and waved to me. I returned the compliment as well as I could, for just then Myra turned and implored me not to run into the lighthouse. "Someone you know?" she asked, as I righted our course. "Only a chap I met on the train," I explained. "It looks like the tenant of Glasnabinnie, but I couldn't be certain. I've never met him, and I've only seen him once." "Glasnabinnie!" I exclaimed, with a new interest. "Really! Why, that's quite close to you, surely?" "Just the other side of the loch, directly opposite us. A good swimmer could swim across, but a motor would take days to go round. So we're really a long way off, and unless he turns up at some local function we're not likely to meet him. He's said to be an American millionaire; but then every American in these parts is supposed to have at least one million of money." "Do you know anything about him--what he does, or did?" I asked.