Again that rushing of blood to the head and the choking sensation, and Sir Murray Gernon gasped for air, as he staggered about like a drunken man. Could it be possible? Was it Norton, and was he removed from his path?--removed by his own act while engaged in some nefarious scheme? For a few moments a strange sense of mingled exultation and horror oppressed the baronet, and he stood staring vacantly in the faces of his servants. Would he like them to go and try again? though, as the water was so deep, there was not much chance of finding the poor fellow till morning. Yes, he would like them to go; and he would come with them himself; and, entering the boat, Sir Murray made the weary men row on and on, backwards and forwards, through the two openings of the wooden bridge, as, armed himself with the weed-grapnel in the prow, he dragged it over the same ground again and again, expecting at each check it received that it was hooked in the body of the man whom he looked upon as the blight of his existence. At length, the men being completely worn out, the search was given up till daylight, and Sir Murray returned to the Castle, to find McCray sitting up in bed with a blanket round him, sipping whisky and water, hot and strong. "Gude sake, Sir Mooray!" he exclaimed, as his master entered. "We won the day. I ken a' aboot it--how ye shot one and took the ither; and Jock Gurdon's coming round--the villin!--and no more dead than I am. But it had got verra close to the end, Sir Mooray." "My brave fellow!" exclaimed his master--"you did nobly." "Hoot! just naething at a', Sir Mooray. But winna ye try the whuskee?" "No, my good fellow. But I don't know how I am to reward you." "Hoot! then, Sir Mooray, I'll just tell ye," said the Scot, whose eye was even now on the main chance. "Tam Wilkins is a gude servant, but he's auld, and past the gairden. Suppose ye mak' me head-gairdener, and give Jenny Barker a hint that she'd better marry me as soon as we've transported Jock Gurdon." "My good fellow, I'll stand your friend, depend upon it," said the baronet, smiling in spite of himself. But the next moment he frowned heavily, as he said, in a low voice: "Do you know who it was that saved you?" "No, Sir Mooray, unless it was one of the lads in the bit skiff. But this is rare whuskee, Sir Mooray!" Sir Murray frowned more deeply before speaking again. "Did you see any one with the villain you so nobly captured? Though how you came to suspect the attack I don't know." "Not a soul; only the two ye've taken, Sir Mooray," said Sandy, reddening, perhaps from the effect of the whisky. "And as to suspecting, I have no suspicion in me; but I jist like to see of a night that naebody's after the grapes or bit of wall-fruit, for Tam Wilkins is getting past minding it."