Not long after, the morning sunshine lighted up a scene of mortal confusion in the East Room, the halls, and gardens of the old Manor House. Jermain, in his first surprise and bitter anger, was not able to make an intelligible inquiry of anyone--either of his following or the household. It was Chaos come again. He questioned without listening to replies, swore furiously at his men, and seemed disposed to think only of the superficial details of affairs. This was not for long. When into the upset room, streaked with sunshine, came Gilbert Boyd, firm of step and hollow-eyed from his long vigil, in which he had wrestled with his God for guidance and support in the desperate crisis now involving him and his house--then was it that Jermain turned upon him like a baited bull. For, Boyd's reputation at Fort Augustus, or elsewhere, might be as Tory as tongues had made it. Possibly a wary Highland prisoner had cunningly corrupted his guard, and the two vanished together, leaving no soul under the Manor's roof responsible for the trick. One chain of thought forbade Jermain to go deeper than this theory, or consider his host as in collusion. But another one instantly asserted it, link by link, and turned the accepted partisanship of Gilbert Boyd, Master of Windlestrae, into a ridiculous error; and, instead of having divined that error, he, Captain Lionel Jermain, stood there, hoodwinked, entrapped, a laughing-stock to the regiments! Oh, his puerile taking all for granted last night--his unsoldierly debauch, that lay also at the bottom of his predicament! The grosser wits and tastes of Roxley and the rest might seem pardonable; his behavior, never! "You have heard of this miserable business, Mr. Boyd?" he demanded, breathlessly, of Gilbert. "I have," was Gilbert's monosyllabic answer. He looked the captain straight in the eye. "It is inexplicable, outrageous! What business had you, Mr. Boyd, to press upon me a servant of whom, by all that I gather, you knew far less than you gave me to understand--a fellow who has played the traitor, disgraced me, and criminated you!" "I am sorry that any gentleman of the service should suffer by the misconduct of one of my household," replied Gilbert, sharply, "but I deny that it criminates anyone of my household, except I shall have proof of it." Jermain stared angrily at Boyd for a couple of seconds. Then, with an oath, he burst into a peal of coarse laughter, ending it with: "Your impudence is a marvel, Mr. Boyd." "And your conduct, at this moment, Captain Jermain, very unlike your behavior last night upon entering my house." "I fancy that I know now a different host," sneered the captain. "Idiot that I have been!" he muttered. "Hark ye, Boyd, I tie, hand and foot, a wounded prisoner. I cast him into yonder strong-room, through whose door he cannot be heard, unless he call--a door that I lock with my own hands----"