"Well, as we don't know how to deal with the danger when it does arrive," I suggested, "suppose we see as much as we can from the banks. I will go up the centre of the stream and report to you, if you like, but you stay here." "You'll do nothing of the sort," he cried. "I can't imagine what we can possibly learn by standing on that rock, but if either of us goes, we go together, or I, in my capacity of bachelor unattached, go alone." Naturally, I could only applaud such generous sentiments, and at the same time refuse to countenance his proposal. So we sat among the heather, some distance above the bank, and awaited developments. "It is four-twenty now," said my companion presently, looking at his watch. "If anything is going to happen it should happen soon." "Don't you think it was mere coincidence that Myra's blindness and the General's strange illusion occurred about this time? Why should this green ray only be visible between four and five?" "It hasn't really been visible at all," Garnesk pointed out. "Miss McLeod saw a green flash, and the General saw a green rock, which had taken upon itself the responsibilities of transportation. That's all we know about the green ray, except the green veil that Miss McLeod tells us of. I don't expect to see that." "I wish I knew what we did expect to see," I sighed. "Exactly," he replied solemnly. "By the way," he added after a pause, "do you see anything peculiar about the rocks or the pool between four and five; I mean anything that you couldn't notice at any other time of the day?" "Nothing at all," I answered despondently; "it is pleasanter here then than at any other time--or was until we came under this mysterious spell." "Why is it pleasanter?" he asked. "It is just then that it gets most sunshine," I pointed out. I made the remark idly enough, for the course of the river, with its rugged banks and great massive rocks, looked particularly beautiful as the sun streamed full upon it, and I was immeasurably surprised when Garnesk jumped to his feet with a shout. "What is it?" I cried in alarm. "You're not----" "The sun, Ewart, the sun!" he exclaimed, and, snatching a pair of binoculars which I carried in my hand, he dashed up the slope to the foot of a cliff that overhung the stream. I gazed after him for a moment in astonishment, and then set out in pursuit. "Stop where you are, man!" he called to me as he turned, and saw me tearing after him. "No, no; I want you there. Don't follow me." I did as I was told, for I trusted him implicitly, and I knew that he would not run any risk without first acquainting me of his intention, and I took it for granted that he had arranged a part for me to play, although he had not had time to tell me what it was. But my astonishment increased as I watched him climb the rock, for when he arrived a few feet from the summit he sat down on a ledge and calmly lighted a cigarette!